Ancient Persia
During the formative years of Shah Manuchehr's rule, Persia and Turan became locked in a bitter war. In his youth, shortly after becoming Shah, Manuchehr, with his most trusted General Karen by his side, sought revenge for his grandfather Fereydun's death at the hands of the deceased's brothers Tur and Salm. The two were tracked down and killed, but the cycle of revenge and familicide would haunt Manuchehr to his dying days. Tur's grandson, Afrasiab, a fierce and terrifying general, declared war in response, turning the border of their nations into a war-torn landscape.
The years were not kind to Manuchehr and his forces despite his efforts. Swaths of Persia's land were lost to Turan's invading forces. With the war nearing its end and the destruction of Persia imminent, Manuchehr requested a meeting with Afrasiab for peace was here at the shores of the Caspian Sea in the Mazandaran Region where the discussions that would lead to the war's turning the Persian side of the river, Shah Manuchehr, his generals, and one young archer sat across from Afrasiab and his soldiers. Afrasiab wore red robes and brown pants adorned with jewels and trims.
"Thank you for this opportunity, Afrasiab," Manuchehr said.
Manuchehr
(Eighth Shah of the Pishdadian Dynasty of Persia)
"Of course, Manuchehr. What's family for if not hearing out last requests?" Afrasiab said, barely hiding a mixture of spite and pride.
Afrasiab
(General and Crown Prince of Turan)
"Hmm. I will not mince words; my forces cannot stop you. I will not deny this, but I wanted to know if there was a way to ensure the survival of my people. I know many of my citizens could contribute to Turan and would strengthen your great nation."
"True. I know for certain many…" Afrasiab looked at the men surrounding Manuchehr. "Of your citizens would bolster Turan, and we both lost too many to count in this war. However, I cannot see a way to ensure the loyalty of your people following our victory. After all, if their Shah was brazen enough to hunt down and kill family, how do I know his citizens will not do the same to me?"
Manuchehr and his forces knew the context of the two situations was drastically different but wouldn't speak up to keep the situation under control.
"Might I make a recommendation?"
"I'll humor it."
"As a sign of goodwill from Persia's new ruler, why not offer up some of the land taken as spoils of war and hand it back to the citizens? You would still rule, but the citizens would regain their homes and see how generous you are. It would help them in the transition and inspire devotion to you."
Afrasiab pondered on the idea. His grandfather and great-uncle were reckless in their actions, and he knew it would cost him down the road if he didn't make the smart choices. "I accept your proposal, on the condition of whether or not I approve your method to figure out how much I should give back."
Manuchehr straightened up. "I recommend a wager. We have an archer head to the tallest mountain in the land and fire an arrow in the direction of your campaign. Where it lands is how much land you offer back to your new citizens." Manuchehr looks over to Arash. "And the archer will be one of our own, Arash."
"Y... you're serious? That's it? This man, a commoner by the way, will shoot an arrow, and where it lands, I give that back? I got all that, right?"
"Perfectly."
Afrasiab and his men burst out laughing. "What in the heavens are you thinking!?" He said while clutching his sides. "He's good, don't get me wrong, but that's it!?" The laughter started to die down. Manuchehr's forces remained stoic despite the raucous insult to their Shah. "Sure, why not? However, first, he must do it from the highest peak here, Damavand. Second, he must travel up there alone. Observers from both forces will see him off and await his arrival, and I don't want you sending your forces up there to kill my people and make false claims. Third, he must arrive before sunrise. If he's on time, he can shoot, and where it lands, I promise on my name and the name of my father, King Pashang, that land will be returned. Fair?"
Manuchehr bowed. "More than fair. Thank you, future King of Turan."
"Soon to be King of Persia as well, or is that 'Shah?'"
"It is whatever you wish it to be."
"Exactly."
That Evening
"Your Majesty, I don't know how you were able to deal with that snake, but you did far better than I ever could." General Karen said.
Karen
(Son of Kavesh the Blacksmith and General of the Persian Army)
Manuchehr sat in the middle of his tent, watching Karen pace around. Karen's kind words conflicted with the rage boiling under the surface. "I can certainly handle a few barbs sent my way. It also helps that the plan is falling into place, despite the unlikelihood of it."
"It's only unlikely if you underestimate Arash and yourself, Manuchehr." A woman's voice behind Karen said," The opening to the tent was swept aside, and Spenta Armaiti and Arash walked in. "You've put in the work to build the perfect bow. That, along with my arrow in Arash's hands, will stem the tide and rub that idiot's pride in his face!"
"Yes, we will. However, Afrasiab is likely planning to cheat us. Forcing Arash to travel alone will make him easy pickings for Turanian forces, but it's nothing you haven't dealt with before, right, Arash?"
"Can't say I have, Your Majesty."
"Well said. Karen, Lady Armaiti, may I have a word alone with Arash?" Armaiti and Karen smiled, bowed, and left the tent. Manuchehr gestured for Arash to sit across from him. Arash bowed and sat down. "Arash, first, I wish to say thank you. Many of our forces abandoned the war, and I honestly thought we were as good as dead until you offered."
"I just wanted to help, Your Majesty."
"Truth be told, I thought you were just trying to one-up everyone without a clue of what you signed up for. Many of the men I asked were among the greatest of the Army's archers, and all of them would've turned their noses up at you taking this on."
"That doesn't matter to me, Your Majesty."
Manuchehr paused at Arash's response. "Arash, I believe you, but I need you to understand you do not need to do this. I could order any of the others to do this- "
"They'll find any reason to decline, Your Majesty."
Manuchehr sighed. "I know that…and to give any of them credit for the shot after forcing them would be wrong. They know they would bear the responsibility of failing." Arash nodded. "Arash, cutting to the chase. I don't understand why you're here. You're just a commoner, just one of many people pulled into a stupid war of our making, and you will likely die because of a stupid familial squabble that you witnessed firsthand. Why are you doing this? Why are you willing to go up there?"
Arash sat in silence. He knew what his Shah was doing. Shah Manuchehr, despite his prestige, was a Shah who loved his people. He never sought grandiosity or expansion but safety and peace for the Persians. "I'm just following your example, Your Majesty."
Manuchehr sighed, closing his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose. "There's nothing I could say to stop you, is there?"
"I would have offered myself even if someone else said yes. Sorry, Your Majesty."
Manuchehr gave a dry laugh. "Fine. I won't stop you. Now, please get to bed. I need you out there at the peak by sunrise."
"Thank you, Your Majesty."
Another one. Another young soul amongst the many he rules, who would gladly stand in the way of his enemies. Another life snuffed out too soon. The idea made Manuchehr's stomach churn. "Your Majesty?" Karen called from the entrance. "May I come in?"
"Please come in, Karen."
Karen sat down in front of his Shah. "I spoke with Lady Armaiti; she will act on our behalf and wait for Arash at the top of Damavand."
"Thank you, Karen."
"Of course. Now, are you going to tell me what's bothering you?"
Manuchehr leaned back, bracing himself with his palms. He looked up at the roof of his tent. "I'm still soft-hearted. I've tried, Karen, but I cannot ignore the number of children this war has claimed. Maybe I shouldn't have killed Tur and Salm. Had I known this would happen, maybe I would've forgone my pride."
"Your Majesty, may I speak candidly?"
"Speak."
"If we could all see the consequences of our actions, would that have stopped Tur and Salm?" Manuchehr sat quietly. "Would knowing that killing Fereydun invite their deaths at our hands in righteous retribution? I doubt it. They would've still killed him. Would knowing this war would happen stop you? Tur and Salm did far more harm than just killing Fereydun. Whether you had noble or selfish intentions, they needed to be stopped. Fretting over it will not help you and will not help Arash."
"You're right. I just wish it were easier said than done."
"Never quit caring for your people, Your Majesty. The day you do that, men and women like Arash will suffer something far worse than Afrasiab and his bluster."
"Maybe, but it would make such decisions easier." He sighed. "I'm going to bed, and if you're up before me, please wake me."
"Will do."
Karen departed the tent, leaving Manuchehr alone with his thoughts.
The Next Day
Damavand
As dawn approached the following day, many observers from Turan gathered near and at the peak of Damavand. The intense trek could only be completed by a select few due to its sheer height of nearly 5,600 meters. Amongst the Seven Volcanic Summits, it is the fifth highest, and the second highest mountain in Asia behind Mount Everest, but to the Persian people, it is an irreplaceable monument. This sacred place where their future would be determined was chosen by Afrasiab precisely because of its importance. Many amongst Manuchehr's men knew this but followed their Shah's example and remained silent.
Up at the peak, nearly up to her knees in snow, stood Armaiti amongst a crowd of Turanian soldiers and officiants. Many were bundled up due to the cold, but Armaiti remained unaffected. To her right stood Karen, bundled up with only his face showing amongst the fur he wore. "He's not here yet, Lady Armaiti. He didn't leave that long after we did, but he should've been here by now." "Karen said.
"You're right. To be honest, he should've beaten you here. Climbing is something he does in his free time."
"…I mean maybe, but I still think we'd be here before him."
"We are not having this discussion right now. Try and compete with him after he makes his shot."
"It's not a competition. It's just that- "
"Look! Is it him!?" Someone from the Persians yelled.
Shambling up the path dug into the side of the mountain was a figure wearing a fur coat. Karen recognized the coat as Arash's and ran to meet him. As he got closer, all hope drained from his body. It was Arash, covered in blood from head to toe. His brown coat hid the blood, but the wet fur gave it away. "Arash! What happened to you!?" Karen yelled as he closed in on Arash. He pulled Arash's hood away from his face and revealed the blood dripping from Arash's forehead over his right eye.
"…Ran into some people and had a bit of a spat. Nothing to worry about anymore." Arash said, breathing heavily.
Armaiti ran up to them, and the color in her face drained upon seeing Arash. "You mean they ambushed you." Karen's rage could barely be contained. His thoughts wandered to how quickly he could kill the Turanians up on the mountain with them.
"How dare they," Armaiti whispered.
Arash grabbed each of them by the shoulder. "Not the time for this, guys. Look." Arash pointed to his back. His bow rested there and remained in one piece. In his quiver was the arrow fashioned by Armaiti. "I still have everything I need. I just need to get up there and make the shot."
"You're in no condition to do this!" Armaiti whispered. "You're barely standing!"
"Which is why I need your help." Arash met her eyes. Despite his pain and blood loss, his focus remained.
"…What do you need?"
"You two can't be serious," Karen said.
"Karen," Arash said. Karen turned to look at him. Arash's stare meant only one thing. The cold air grew silent, with the occasional murmur from the Turanians as they observed the spectacle in front of them. "I'm happy you were waiting for me up here. Probably wasn't the most fun thing to do, but made my day. Now, please stop. I have to get ready."
Karen couldn't find the words he wanted. The situation went so far south that he could barely think straight. Persia's only hope of surviving a little longer was crippled by an ambush. What happened to the men he had overseeing Arash's excursion? Were they killed before Arash arrived? How long ago did it happen? Was it back at camp? Did something happen to Shah Manuchehr? That last thought made his stomach sink. He could not face the situation in front of him, but he could do both Arash and himself good to return to Manuchehr. "Fine," Karen said curtly. "Just so you know, I'm not staying. If something like this happened to you on the way up, I can only imagine what's happening back at camp."
"Please do. Also, pass this on to the Shah." Arash dug into his shirt under his coat and pulled out a note. Karen took it and placed it under his coat.
"I'll be waiting, Arash." Karen walked past him and headed down the path, leaving Arash and Armaiti alone.
"Lady Armaiti, would you please perform the blessing?"
"Arash, you know what will happen if I do this and you fire the arrow in your condition, right?"
Arash grew a wide smile.
"Absolutely! However, it's all we can do…and they're probably not going to let me do it regardless."
Arash looked past Armaiti, and she turned to face the crow behind her. Each of the observers was now armed with swords, spears, clubs, and bows.
"Let me handle this, Arash," Armaiti said while putting herself between Arash and the Turanians.
"Lady Armaiti, just do the blessing and get me to the peak. After that, get down the mountain as quickly as you can and grab Karen on the way." Arash pulled out the sole remaining arrow from his quiver, presenting it to Armaiti. "They won't attack you since that'll cause the other Amesha Spenta to retaliate." He stepped up to her side. "Please."
Armaiti did not want to, but she acquiesced. She knew it would be easy for her to kill the Turanians, but the situation would not resolve in their favor if she did. She quickly turned around and covered the arrowhead with her hands. Blue energy glowed within her palms, and the arrowhead began to shine the same blue. "Ready?" Armaiti asked. Arash nodded. Feathered wings burst from Armaiti's back, shielding her from view. She grabbed Arash and swiftly took to the air. The Turanians began to shout and fire arrows, hoping to hit Arash. Armaiti swooped down and carefully lowered Arash on the peak. "Hurry! Go!" Arash yelled. Spenta turned away from her friend and flew away. Each arrow that flew in her direction failed to land. "Hey, guys!" Arash yelled as Spenta dove down the mountainside. The Turanians turned to see Arash, bow in hand and the arrow nocked. The arrowhead began to radiate an intense blue light. "Make sure you see this! It's why we're here!"
Armaiti quickly caught up to Karen. He had not made it down very far before she swooped in behind him and carried him off the mountainside. "What're you doing!?" Karen yelled.
"We don't have time to walk! Arash is firing a full-power shot using the arrow! If he releases it now, it'll cause an-" A massive boom erupted into the air. A surge of blue light, like a shooting star, sped away from Damavand's peak. All the snow and ice covering the peak began to crack and fall away, smashing into the path where Karen was walking not but a few seconds ago. The two of them, held in the air by Armaiti's wings, watched as the blue light travelled across the sky as the sun began to rise. It would later be learned that Afrasiab planned for ambushes along the path and at the peak. He never meant to honor his word. However, Arash not only made the shot but did so in such an irrefutable way that Afrasiab honored his bargain lest he be deemed a greater coward and schemer than he already was. The arrow flew until noon, where it landed and created a pillar of blue light at its destination. Parties from both camps travelled to the site; the trip took a few weeks to finally reach it. Upon finding it, it was said that Afrasiab was unable to hold in his temper and embarrassment. The arrow landed on the other side of the Oxus River, now known as the Amu Darya. Manuchehr and his people were with the Turanians when the arrow was found, clutching the letter from Arash and fighting for his life to hold back bittersweet tears.
Arash's body was never found. Many of his assailants' corpses turned up after being dug out of snow and rock. All of them are littered with arrows and pebbles lodged into their bodies from trying to stop him. All of them failed. The time Arash bought the Persians enabled them to hold out longer against the inevitable Turanian victory, but his sacrifice gave his people hope, time, and a chance in the future to finally end Afrasiab's ambitions.
Valhalla Arena
The moment Heimdall made the call, Indra and Arash unleashed their first arrows. Speed, power, and accuracy all in concert with one another. Many would later recall the first exchange as initially a simple arrow nocked and released right at the enemy. The reality began to show itself the moment the two released arrows made contact with each other. Down to the minute point of the arrowhead, they were mirror images of each other. Upon their collision, a loud pop occurred, and the two arrows caved in upon themselves, flew into the air behind their respective fighters, and fell to the ground in pieces. The event playing out in front of them awoke something within them. Without blinking, the two began pulling more arrows out of their quivers and continued their volley. Each arrow fired by Arash collided with one of Indra's and vice versa. No arrow fired survived entering into the beautiful cacophony of projectiles smashing into each other.
The first quiver went empty, but each counted their shots and immediately transitioned to the quivers on their hips. Arash began to walk to his left and continued his volley. Indra followed suit without error, and the two continued to try and bombard the other. "Wha-what is going on, folks!?" Heimdall yelled. "Both fighters have been firing non-stop at each other, but every arrow gets blocked by another arrow!?" Heimdall looked down from his floating perch. Shattered arrows littered the arena floor within seconds. Arash and Indra began walking in the other direction and continued without pause. Neither one blinked. Neither looked away from the other. The two, for a brief moment, were caught in a stalemate. Even as their quivers began to refill, the continuous volley burned through them faster than they could keep up. The point at which the two were expected to arrive came. Their quivers exhausted, the two waited for the next arrow to appear. Once formed in the quiver, it was immediately drawn and fired. Time was now working against them, but the idea of letting an arrow fly past either one of them became a death sentence. Their exchange solidified one fact that the other became certain of.
The one in front of me is strong.
Before long, the tension between the fighters made the air in the arena heavy and quiet. Many within the audience could barely pull their eyes away. Some even refused to blink for fear of missing the turning point. Some even instinctively held their breath and passed out.
In the upper levels, Brunhilde, Göll, and Armaiti watched the fight below, trying their best to keep their focus on the match. "How long can they keep this up?" Göll asked. "Nothing's flown past either of them. It's like every arrow enters a no-fly zone and gets smashed!"
"Arash can keep this up for hours," Armaiti responded. "On the day of his birth...he was blessed by the heavens with a body capable of immense strength and stamina. During our training, I would have him stand between two animals and resist their pull for hours...using only his thumb and index fingers. We even reached the point he could hold two elephants in place!" Armaiti smiled, and her eyes went wild. "When he wasn't doing that, he would rock-climb up mountains; his grip strength is so powerful he could pierce solid rock! There were days in the war when he would continue firing on Turanians from a single outpost for hours and end. The only reason he'd ever quit was because he ran out of anything he could fire or throw."
"What!?"
"Exactly. Along with his strength, his experience, and the rules of this fight granting him an unlimited supply of arrows, we get to see an Arash fight at his fullest." Brunhilde said. A wicked smirk grew on Brunhilde's face to match Armaiti's.
"Wow…"
"Watch, Göll. Watch my protégé in action: the living artillery salvo!"
Back in the arena, Arash and Indra continued their attacks. The two's attacks became synchronized to the point where their arrows began to form at the same time. Their nocking and their firing in perfect harmony. The buzzing of Indra's Vajra bow created a low hum with each fired arrow. "Arash, we need to do something," Thrud said. "I know you're focused right now, but we're stuck here."
"Give me a few more shots. I'll fix it then," Arash whispered, his senses focusing entirely on Indra.
"Okay."
The next arrows were formed and armed. Both fighters released their newest arrows, and Arash pinched down on his arrow just as the drawstring began to pull away from his fingers. The timing had to be perfect; every shot was done to create the ideal moment.
It finally came. Arash let go of his drawstring. Indra's arrow flew straight at Arash's chest. Arash went completely still.
Just before the arrow pierced his chest, Arash snapped his right hand up and caught the arrow before it pierced him. His eyes were not looking away from Indra, he saw the shock in his opponent's eyes. He immediately grabbed his drawstring and fired the halted arrow at his stunned opponent. An arrow managed to form just in time for Indra to arm and counter, but he could not stop the second shot he knew was coming.
He had to concede the exchange to his opponent. Well done! Indra thought as fear crept into his mind. I couldn't have done that! In honor of your accomplishment, I'll reward you with this! Indra reached into his left quiver and pulled out one of his silver arrows, nocking it. Fly, my namesake. Indrastra. Indra released his arrow. As soon as it began to fly, several hundred arrows began to form behind it. The volley of arrows continued to grow and grow, forming a wall of arrows heading straight towards Arash.
"Arash, that's going to hit everything!" Thrud shouted.
"I'm fixing it now!" Arash yelled. Arash wondered why Indra never used the silver arrows during their volley. It came down to two possibilities: they held no real significance, and it was a bluff, or they were extremely powerful arrows he couldn't use sparingly. The latter proving true, Arash inhaled deeply and drew his drawstring back as far as he could and tightened his muscles. The cloud of arrows was close to reaching him. Arash crouched down, putting all his strength into his legs. He sprang back, sending himself flying towards the wall behind him and creating the perfect distance to prepare his shot. "Ridge." Arash exhaled and released his arrow. A loud boom erupted in front of him as the arrow broke through the sound barrier and sailed through the cloud. The dispersed air threw the wall of arrows into disarray, into the ground and walls around the arena. Arash's released arrow sailed past Indra and pulled him into its air current. Indra managed to right himself and land as he heard something behind him shatter. The center target behind Indra fell to pieces from Arash's shot. Several lacerations appeared across Indra's body, and blood spurted out from them. Humanity's side of the colosseum roared with joy at Arash's efforts. "Not too bad, eh? Guess thunder coming after lightning isn't so bad after all!" Arash said while smiling.
"What was that?" Set said as he leaned out of his box seat. Yama sat next to him, and their guest for the match, Shiva, sat at Set's left. Compared to the regal clothing of his peers, Shiva wore only a pair of yellow pants and a green belt that complemented his purple complexion. His bare, chiseled chest and four arms were completely uncovered save for tattoos on his fingers, wrists, biceps, and neck.
Shiva
God of Destruction
Chief God of Svarga
(Hindu Pantheon)
"You're watching the same thing I am, right?" Shiva said, nonplussed. "That human shot an arrow with enough force that it beat an Astra."
"Did you not hear what you just said? That human beat an Astra. Indra's only got two left, and his opponent doesn't look worse for wear."
"Oh ye of little faith. Didn't I tell you Indra would get you a win? Just watch, Set. Indra's true power only comes out when he's under pressure. The stronger the opponent, the better he fights."
"The adage 'pressure makes diamonds,' right?" He inhaled and exhaled slowly. "I won't argue with that since he's Svarga's greatest archer, but this Human is doing what many thought impossible."
"Those Astras are strong, but they're not what makes him the greatest. Indra is more than just an archer and more than his Astras. He's lightning in a godly form. Everything about him is like lightning." Shiva leaned back in his chair. "Now, shut up and watch. Storm's a brewing down there."
Set leaned back in his seat and continued to watch the match, the weight in his stomach steadily growing.
"That was amazing!" Göll shouted.
Armaiti jumped and screamed for joy while pumping her fists in the air. "Now that's exactly what I expect from my boy!" Armaiti shouted.
"Sis, how did Arash pull off that move? I didn't see anything change down there."
"Good eye, Göll. The truth is nothing changed for Arash, except his bow."
"Huh?"
"Thrud's power modifies the resistance of the bow's drawstring. Whenever Arash wants to fire a stronger shot, all Thrud needs to do is increase the resistance and force Arash to exert more power."
Göll lightly tapped her palm with her fist. "That makes sense..."
"The bow has four settings: Base, for 25% power; Slope, for 50%; Ridge, for 75%; and Summit, for full power. What we saw in the barrage earlier was Slope, and now we saw the results of Ridge."
"He's that strong even without his full strength?"
"Exactly, and there's more to come."
"Nothing? Not even a flinch?" Arash said as he readied another arrow while sprinting toward Indra. "Man, that's cool!"
"Arash, be careful. Doing too many shots at ridge level and above will tear your muscles. You need a few minutes to let them recover." Thrud said.
"As you command, beloved." Thrud stayed silent but blushed at the name. Arash skidded to a halt a dozen meters from the line and released an arrow straight at Indra's head. Indra took one step back and caught the arrow centimeters from his head. He then threw it in his quiver amongst the newly forming arrows. Arash readied another arrow. As soon as he drew it back, Indra grabbed three arrows from his quiver, nocked one, and fired. Arash released his own and hit it, but the other two sailed into his peripherals. Arash quickly nocked two more arrows and fired, catching them both. Panic set in as he focused back on Indra and nocked another arrow. Indra held several arrows in between his middle, ring, and pinky fingers. One was already nocked and aimed straight at him. Indra released the arrow. Arash jumped back to create what little gap he could and fired back, colliding with Indra's. He managed to land on his feet as another arrow flew at him. He ducked it just in time; it sailed past his head and embedded in the wall behind him. Indra quickly moved an arrow between his fingers, nocked it, and fired. Arash returned fire, and the two continued their volley from before. However, Arash was starting to fall behind. Indra's method of prepping his arrows, along with the dexterity of his fingers, granted him a powerful advantage; he could fire far faster than Arash could, and some of his arrows were getting past Arash. The silence behind him indicated none of Indra's shots were hitting the targets. Why is he doing this? Arash thought as he tried to keep up with Indra. He's not even hitting the targets. What's his play? Arash dodged another arrow rather than stopping the attack and aimed his shot at Indra's chest. Indra immediately stopped his assault and aimed a single arrow at Arash. The two fired simultaneously. Their arrows clashed in mid-air while Indra jumped to his left, pulling three arrows out of his left hip quiver. He nocked one and fired it. Arash shot an arrow and destroyed Indra's mid-flight. Indra quickly nocked another one as he sailed through the air and fired another. Another of Arash's met it and shattered. Indra's third arrow was immediately nocked after he fired the second, and he fired it. Arash reached into his quiver for another arrow.
It was empty.
Arash could only watch as the arrow flew towards a stationary target, shattering it. Lacerations covered Arash's body, and pain swelled through him. He tried not to show it, but the situation, compounded with his injuries, hit him worse than he had imagined. The wall behind Arash was littered with arrows. Many of them were far from the targets, others nearby, and a few were embedded in the grooves of the target. Arash's disc was held in place by arrows on its left and right. The view Arash took horrified him. His other two targets were stuck in place, barely moving back and forth. He pinned them down! He wasn't just firing at random; he was trying to pin them down to make it easier to hit them! How'd he come up with that plan mid-fight!?
"You did more damage to me than I'd like to admit, Arash. I had to pull out a trick of mine far earlier than planned."
"I'm honored," Arash said, smiling, breathing heavily. Indra smiled back.
"Told you," Shiva said.
"I'm confused. What happened?" Set said.
"Indra's practiced archery longer than anyone I know. Years upon years of experience to try and draw out as much efficiency and polished technique. That technique you just witnessed is called Stampede of Airavata; he keeps multiple arrows between his fingers, rolls them to load them, and fires."
"It doesn't seem like it's doing much good. Most of his shots failed to hit the targets." Yama said.
"It's not meant to hit something accurately; he focuses so much on speed and numbers, he forgoes accuracy. It's a technique designed to kill large groups of people when he doesn't have his Astras. The fact that he managed to turn it into a technique to pin down the targets shows how desperate he is to keep that human from pulling off those power-shots, and I doubt it was his strongest."
Set sank into his chair. Indra is worried and trying new moves. Set's mind raced. Who is this human? I haven't seen archery on this level...An image of a pair of bright orange translucent wings surfaced in Set's mind. ...Gabriel.
"Gotta admit, that's not something I learned to do," Arash said.
"It's not something I like using for one person, and it cramps my hand up something fierce," Indra said, smiling while shaking his hand.
"Well, when I get out of this, I'll make sure to master it and name it after you."
"You're too kind." The kind words here were genuine, an anomaly the spectators thought would never occur. You would think the two weren't trying to kill one another. While the words were genuine, what was happening was the only thing they could do. Their quivers were empty, and they needed to stall for time. "Arash, since we both know what we're trying to do, I have a question for you."
"Shoot."
"I will in a moment; you strike me as a genuine soul. The doctor before you was one, and I cannot fathom what creates men like you two."
A wide smile grew on Arash's face. "Easy. I was surrounded by good people who loved me. A Shah who saw me as more than a soldier, a patron Angel who taught me all I know about archery, and a general who took me under his wing like a younger brother." He ran his right hand through his slicked-back hair and rubbed the back of his neck. "How else could I turn out when I am surrounded by such wonderful people?"
The quivers were close to getting full. Arash and Indra both knew the full weight before the match started. "Wonderful people, huh? Damn, sounds like you got lucky."
"I'd rather say blessed. They gave me more than I could ever think to ask for, and it's time I pay it forward...just like back then."
Indra smiled, knowing the sentiment full well. Memories flooded his mind from years prior. "Well, they're full now. Shall we continue?" Arash asked. Both smiled as they grabbed several arrows with their non-firing fingers. Indra's eyes widened. "I've never done it before, so why not start now?"