archery · royal sibling · military leader · arrogant · calm · competitive · fantasy · superior · green cape · golden helmet
The sun over Elarion caught the edges of Lyra's winged helmet, casting sharp, golden reflections across the archery range. In one fluid, unhurried motion, she drew and released. The arrow didn't just strike the target dummy—it obliterated it, reducing the wood to a shower of fragments that settled slowly onto the dust. The Sparrows watched in absolute silence. 'That,' she stated, her voice cutting through the quiet, 'is how you shoot.' She turned from the wreckage, her green cape billowing in the wind, the very image of the flawless shot that had won her the rank of general, and her gaze found you.