Aiming True by Hunter Huntsman
All week people have been asking me if I'm nervous about the archery event today. I can't blame them — they're just hexcited. But am I nervous? Not. At. All. Look, it isn't because I'm over-confident. Quite the opposite. All the best archers in the land will be at Tri-Castle-On to compete, and I'll have to be at the top of my game to have a chance at winning. But that's why I'm not nervous.
As a student at Ever After High, I'm prepared for my fairytale destiny. But as The Son of the Huntsman, my destiny involves at least three of four different fairytales. I don't always mind, but sometimes the hexpectations do get a little overwhelming. Today, though, I won't have to think about anything except the center of that target. When I'm on the field, the fans may cheer, the competition may jeer, but I won't hear any of it. It will just be me, my bow, and that bullseye. For one long moment as I draw back the arrow, I'll feel the sun warm my outstretched arm, the breeze against my brow. On instinct my hand will release the arrow, and I will simply watch the arrow fly. To me, it happens in slow-motion.
Did you know an arrow releases wavers as it flies? It does, though it flies too fast for you to see. But if an arrow has been sent with practiced skill and care, that arrow will fly true, hitting its mark as surely as if destiny were its guide. Of course I'd like to win today. But when I'm on that field, I'll know that I am now hexactly who I was always meant to be. And that is truly winning.