Section Two, Part Three
They walked throughout the streets of Arendelle, as the warm summer breeze blew through the streets and the coolness of the river swept through the kingdom, while merchants sold their precious wares, and the artist painted in the gardens, pouring their souls into their artwork. Sculpteurs worked with porcelain and clay, their hands filled with calluses from years of sculpting masterworks, and their clay-covered hands waved at us as we went past. Marching bands played fanfares as we strolled throughout the middle city, the drummers' sticks twirling and beating their heads, playing ratamacues and paradiddles, drags and rolls, holding their sticks in traditional grip, accenting for added flair. How Archer longed to be part of such an elite team of drummers, how he wished to play with them, but alas, he didn't belong here, he belonged in a time long in the future, when this beautiful land would be completely forgotten, believed to be fiction, when it was thought to never exist. These peaceful, prosperous streets would be in ruins, the castle reduced to collapsing mossy bricks, the whole place overgrown and lost in the woods, the people long absent, the music that once filled the land abandoned and silent. There would be no more artwork shown if in the streets, sculptures and goods no longer for sale, the air of friendliness turned sinister and unwelcoming, and possibly the whole thing would be submerged underwater, becoming the true Atlantis, the drowned city lost forever in the river that once proudly flowed next to it before the dam collapsed from wear and tear, washing away the legacy of the kingdom forever, as nature reclaimed its territory. It ached Archers heart to even think of Arendelle like that, and he tried to not think about it anymore, but a part of it refused to leave his mind as the four of them roamed the crowded streets destined to be abandoned. He looked at Emma, and she looked back, and he could tell from her sad look that she was thinking the same things as he was.
"It's horrible, isn't it?" She whispered to him as they approached the impressive castle in the middle of the kingdom. "What it'll be like in the future? All these people, the beauty of these streets- how it'll all be gone soon?"
He nodded, wishing he could say more. He hoped she didn't think he was empty of emotion, but he could tell from her face that she knew how he felt. They'd been developing an ability to read each other's thoughts based on their expression ever since they had left 2020. Some sort of instinct inside of them allowed them to understand every inch of a frown, smile, or the expression of the eyes, all which seemed like a whole language of emotions that Archer and Emma seemed fluent in without any effort whatsoever.
But only on each other's faces. Archer still couldn't read anyone else's faces to save his life.
Trying to ignore the burning sensation in his heart, and the empty, hollow feeling of his mind, he set off with the three others, as Elsa and Anna led them to the castle, where they were to find the barracks.
"Why exactly do you need to visit the barracks?" Anna asked incredulously as they walked.
"Well," Emma answered before Archer could, "we're going on a possibly deadly quest where somehow magic itself is imprisoned. We have no idea whether we will need to defend ourselves. Elsa already has magic to help, you have training. All Archer and I really have is Scout training in archer and rifle shooting."
"And shotgun shooting," Archer offered.
"And shotgun shooting. Archer's also got magic, but he doesn't seem to know how to use it. Me, I don't have any sort of magic."
As if by answer, she coughed loudly, and the air burned. A small burst of flame flew from her mouth and heated the pavement below. Archer started at her. She looked just as shocked as he was, and so were Elsa and Anna. Anna looked extremely embarrassed to be the only one out of four without magic powers, and as far as they knew, the only three living magic users on the planet.
"Still," Emma continued, "there's no way we will be able to perfectly control our power soon. We'll need to defend ourselves. That's why we need to visit the armory."
After that they walked in silence until they reached the castle gates. The guards there let Elsa and Anna in, but they locked spears and held us back. Elsa waved them off.
"They're with us, Lieutenant."
The guards let us pass and apologized.
The barracks were located in a plaza in the East part of the castle. The plaza consisted of three buildings: a large building where Archer assumed the soldiers slept, a smaller building with targets and dummies where men kept their targets and training equipment, and one last building, with metals and hammers and weapons. Elsa and Anna led them to the third building.
"I never asked you," Archer remembered, "do you guys gave access to powder weapons like guns?"
Elsa gave him a puzzled look. "What are guns?" She asked.
"You've never used guns? They were invented like… 500 years ago from this year, how do you not know of them?"
Elsa shrugged.
Archer explained what a firearm was and started talking about the different kinds of guns, what the abbreviations were, and how they work.
"Hmm, a simple handgun would be useful on a trip like this…" Archer thought out loud.
Before he knew it, Archer was smithing a handgun as if he did it every day, melting metals, carving wood and assembling a wooden revolver with a metal cylinder holding 10 brass shots, with a hammer that automatically reset after shooting for a faster rate of fire. Archer tried not to wonder how he'd done it, he had never before constricted a gun. He melted brass and found some powder that the army must have used for explosives, and built cases and bullets, which he stored in a small pouch attached to a leather belt. Emma helped him construct a holster for the hand cannon, but she refused to use a gun, as she said that firearms were never her style. Instead, she raided the armory, taking a sword and shield. She nodded at Archer.
"I'm ready to go. Are you?"
He returned the nod.
"Ready as I'll ever be," he responded.
"Well then," responded Elsa, "Let's go pick up Kristoff, and then we'll be on our way to… wherever we're going."
They found Kristoff feeding the reindeer in the stables. Archer and Emma quickly introduced themselves, and Elsa briefed him on what was happening and why they were leaving. Despite being a king, Kristoff was very humble towards Archer and Emma. He seemed like a very cool guy, and he didn't act like a king would, he seemed to value his people as equals. This, Archer knew, was someone he could be around with. In fact, all three of them seemed like great friends, yet they'd known each other for less than two hours. Archer and Emma left them to train for a while, and they met at the archery range, talking as they shot.
"So," Emma tried to make conversation, "you ready for this quest? Honestly?"
"Yeah," he said. Emma stared at him. "No," he replied, "but I don't think I'll ever really be ready."
Emma shot an arrow into the 9-zone. "Me neither, I guess."
Archer's arrow sailed right into the bullseye, to his astonishment.
"I was sorry to hear about Jarenne," Emma said, but something about the way she said it didn't annoy Archer in the slightest, though maybe it was because it was Emma speaking. "I never knew you were friends."
She must have seen the pain in his face, and she quickly changed the subject.
"So, um, we haven't really… talked… that much since… you know…"
A knot twisted in Archer's stomach. "No, we haven't," he agreed.
Emma gave him a sort of sad, sympathetic look, one that said, I am so sorry, and I hope things will get better for you.
"So what do you think about this?" She gestured to the land around them.
"It's beautiful," he replied, and with difficulty he did not add, like you. "It's so nice, the air's fresh, the air is clean, it's almost like a Caribbean postcard, but well, we don't have time to dwell on that…" he finished.
"The whole thing will be ruins someday," she confirmed.
An awkward space of silence followed this. Another one of Archer's arrows found its way into the bullseye of the target. Trying to stay blank of emotion and hard to read, he focused completely on shooting the targets, unaware of anything else. As he shot, Archer's recent vices crossed his mind.
A crowded concert. An arrow sailed into the center.
A look of guilt on Emma's face, opening her mouth to speak.
THWACK! Another projectile found its mark.
Reported casualties list.
Another target fell from the force of Archer's arrow.
Jarenne's name and face.
Another bullseye, from 30 feet away.
Gone forever.
An arrow hit dead center of the target, splitting one that was already there in half.
Archer stopped shooting. He realized he'd shot a bullseye in every target in the range within 50 feet of him. Emma was staring at him in amazement. Archer couldn't help but feel surprised as well. There was no way a regular human could have shot that accurately. While Archer had always had a strength in archery, his ranged skills seemed to have increased tenfold. His parents had named him 'Archer' because they thought it sounded cool, and that was their only reason for naming him thus. Still, the fact that Archer was a dab hand with a bow and arrow seemed like a clever joke of some sort. He stared at the two arrows in the dead center of the target in front of him. One had been cleaved in half by the other almost perfectly.
Archer and Emma left the archery range and practiced sparring with swords. Archer, with significant experience in melee combat from video games such as Mount & Blade: Warband, and its sequel Bannerlord, as well as books like Percy Jackson, tried his best to teach Emma swordplay.
"Try disarming maneuvers," he told her after she had kept him back for a while before letting her guard down. "Distract your adversary until you have access to their sword's hilt, then twist their blade with the flat of yours, then throw all of your weight into a downward thrust. This will force them to drop their weapon, giving you an opening and an advantage. This technique is extremely difficult, but if used correctly it could save your life and end a battle quickly."
He demonstrated the move on her, and her blade fell to the ground. Then they kept sparring, occasionally Archer giving her tips on how best to defeat an opponent. He taught her how best to divert an enemy's attention and strike in a weak area. He showed her how when an opponent lunges and thrusts, their balance is thrown off and one simple move could cause them to fall flat on their face. After about an hour, both of them were hot and sticky with sweat.
As they headed toward the barracks to meet Elsa, Anna, and Kristoff, Archer and Emma talked on the way, just like typical friends, something they hadn't been able to do for a long time. This luxury of having someone who cared about him was something he'd taken for granted for years, and he had been deprived of that privilege earlier that year. It felt so heartwarming to have a friend talk to him as an equal, not looking down on him because of his faults, just appreciating the good parts of him, none of the bad. It was one of the things Archer liked most about Emma, she never judged people based on their worst mistakes, only their greatest triumphs.
When they reached the barracks, they found that Elsa, Anna, and Kristoff had prepared. They'd packed sleeping rolls of pure leather, canteens of water, and other materials in five leather backpacks. Additionally, they had a sack of carrots and bread, some meat rations and spare parts for the trip. They packed all of this in a very fancy sled of fine, polished norwegian spruce wood, which somehow managed to fit all five of them comfortably, along with Sven the reindeer, who insisted on coming along.
Elsa noticed them first. She judged her sister and pointed to us. Kristoff turned as well and waved to me.
As we approached them, Elsa asked them, "Ready to head out?"
Emma nodded. "I'll never be more ready," Archer replied.
Elsa smiled, which was probably the first time an adult woman had smiled at him genuinely.
The five of them got in the sled, and Kristoff took the reins, and Sven the reindeer pulled the sled, taking them into the great unknown.