Imentet
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"Again."

Aisha carefully nocked an arrow into her bow, sweat trickling down the side of her face.

Her target was stationary. A log of wood, lodged into the sand. Nothing could topple it over.

It should have been easy. But when her second arrow fired, it struck the sand next to her previous failed attempt. Not a single shot had landed within arms reach of the log.

"And again."

Maalik stood with his arms crossed to conceal his gloom, each missed arrow striking his heart instead.

Aisha reached for another arrow from her quiver. Her straight posture remained perfectly steady, her left elbow raised and held high. She inhaled a deep breath as any previous hesitation faded and transfigured into confidence.

Fingers loosened. The air shifted. An arrow took flight. A heavy thunk vibrated. 

It was a clean hit.

Maalik's spirits lifted, but a twitch in his eye forced his forward glare. Although the arrow had penetrated the log, it never appeared to be a direct hit. Rather, it was a low shot.

"Yes! Baba, I got it! Did you see?" Aisha wiped her face with the back of her hand, her pure smile warmed his heart in return. But his heart rejected this embrace when he kept his gaze at the log.

"You did good." He stepped closer towards the target and pointed at the lodged arrow. "But you could do better. Notice how you only struck his leg. He'll stand again or fire back using his hands. This is no time for a premature celebration."

Aisha lost her smile rather quickly. She turned to face the log and slowly readied herself to take aim once more. 

"Aim higher, right for his head. Kill him before he can retaliate."

Brief flashes of his talk with Thutmose invaded his mind. He's training her to kill. He disagreed at first, but he found himself embracing it. His daughter stared back with raised brows and a frown, her hand clenching another arrow for her next attempt.

Another arrow launched into the sky, its trajectory too high. It narrowly grazed the top of the log, gliding towards the sands behind it.

Maalik's disappointed gaze fixed itself onto her, showcasing no positivity whatsoever. "Very clever thinking there. Maybe he'll spare you if you shave his hair. This is why you're so smart, aren't you?"

"I'm sorry." Aisha said in a soft and defeated tone in shame. "I'll try again."

The last time he recalled hearing her voice in such a way was shortly after the raids. He never wanted to hear it again. His senses shifted, and he twitched again.

"No, I shouldn't have yelled." He said, his face lowered and concealed within his own shadow. A devastating headache formed. "I just feel unwell, nothing to worry over. Go ahead and try again, and aim lower this time."

"Let's go home and rest, Baba. I will do better tomorrow."

"No!" He roared back. The sudden force of his response shook his body, his hands formed into fists to stop the trembling. "You'll stay here. Nobody leaves until that log is dead."

Aisha's face continued to sweat, it further reddened by the surrounding heat and growing stress from training. "But it's just a piece of wood."

"Consider it a human."

Aisha only had three arrows left, at least one of them had to count. There were no distractions to stop her this time. No sandstorms to halt her, no screeching birds to startle her, and no nearby wanderers to divert her. It's only one immobile target.

Her breathing broke the silence. With another arrow nocked, she took aim. Her posture slumped, her hold on the arrow was on the verge of slipping. He didn't need to see her take the shot, he already knew it would miss.

"That's still too high!"

She lost her grip suddenly. The arrow dramatically let loose, missing the wooden log entirely as it soared over it. She gasped as she turned towards her father.

"Are you even listening to me, Aisha?" His veins strained against his skin as his blood boiled. "Send the next arrow to the stars in the sky, that seems like an easier target for you!"

"You were yelling, I lost my focus." Her lips quivered. Each heavy breath that entered her lungs frantically escaped.

Maalik on the other hand didn't appreciate what she had to say. "If you were standing amidst an inferno, desperately trying to rescue your dying friends, would you cry and run away because there's too much noise? Learn to maintain your focus no matter what tries to break your gaze. Don't just stand there in defeat."

He walked around her, picturing the very carnage he once had to witness many years ago. "You remember Khemenu, don't you? When those men arrived to rob us of everything, you know what happened. But have you any idea what those assailants would do if they caught you? A young, defenseless girl in their hands; you don't want to know what would happen."

Staring straight into her eyes, he intended to strike the fear of the gods deep inside of her. "I would rather see you die right then and there instead of living to become one of their slaves. Even if you must stab yourself with that arrow, just make sure they don't take you alive."

"Baba, you're scaring me."

He gritted his teeth, edging his head closer towards her. "Good. Now try again."

Stepping back to the sideline, he crossed his arms again. His daughter shivered, her bow shaking in her hands. Her fear was overwhelming her, causing her to lose stability over herself.

He only hoped she remembered one of the rules he taught her. She can't hesitate for too long. He always implied it was so her arms don't tire out and worsen her aim. But that was never the case. The longer she waits, the sooner her enemy will shoot her first. 

Her fingers loosened and the arrow was fired. A small sigh escaped from her when the arrow struck the log. But it still wasn't centered, and it only struck the side of it instead.

Maalik wasn't happy. His hands formed into fists out of instinct. His eyes never blinked once, lingering in a seamless void.

He ignored Aisha reaching for her last arrow. Instead, he already walked towards the wooden log. He yanked the last arrow that struck its side and held it up.

"Hardly an improvement." His disappointment grew, followed by his scowl that emitted towards Aisha. "That's been six arrows thus far, and all you have managed to do is partially wound the log."

Her voice stuttered again. "I'm trying. I still have one arrow left, I can make it."

"Is that so?" Maalik raised his chin. Without moving aside, he tossed the arrow in his hand away. "Do it then."

Aisha nocked the last arrow into her bow, raising her elbow as she looked ahead. But he never moved away from the target. His daughter kept the arrow focused on him, though her eyebrows bent in confusion.

"Baba, you're in the way." Aisha was always happy to make practice shots with her bow, but the worried look on her face showed she wasn't enjoying any of this.

"No, I don't think I am. I'm right where I should be." He responded, keeping his posture.

"But the log is behind you!" Her fingers visibly strained against the bowstring again, she may accidentally shoot him at this rate. But he still didn't step aside.

"Use your head, Aisha!" Maalik snapped back. "Consider your position very carefully. Line your shot and focus on your target, then open fire before it's too late."

Her eyes watered, signalling an imminent breakdown. Her arms shook violently. "I don't want to."

"You either do it, or you die! The gods don't care who you are, they will always be there to test you and that means you must always be prepared for anything they throw your way. I've been gentle on you for far too long, because life certainly won't foster your needs. Find the strength to kill the opposers, or be killed in return!"

Maalik spread his arms out, experiencing the rush of the wind's intensity on the rise. This was the moment of truth.

"So take the shot, Aisha!"

Aisha's expressions were caught in a battle of fear and unfiltered anger, made apparent by the straining and gritting of her teeth. Her hands flinched upwards faster than he could keep up with, and her fingers slipped just when a sudden yell escaped her opened lips. The twang of the bowstring vibrated as the arrow soared vertically towards the stars.

He tried to follow the arrow's trajectory, climbing higher into the sky above his head. But the sound of a softened thud caught his attention. His daughter dropped the bow, impacting the dunes beneath her feet. She sprinted away in a sob. Her tears flowed and dropped over the desert with every step.

Hesitation got the better of him. The further away she ran, the more his own dread washed over him. A rustle of wind brushed him back, accompanied by a heavy splintering sound behind him. His heart jumped in place, the rest of his body slowed down as his head turned back.

The arrow stood upright, penetrating the top of the wooden log.

A quiet gasp slipped past his lips. The irritating ringing in his ears ceased, bringing an eerie silence that surrounded the landscape.

The skin against his arms rattled in the breeze, a series of bumps developed that delivered a cold shiver down his spine. His daughter's figure shrunk in the horizon, her silhouette glowed in the orange haze of nightfall's arrival and the sun's departure.

He called her name to no avail. As he surveyed his surroundings, the anxiety within him grew to a devastating uproar. Every sudden inhale was expelled as his breathing intensified followed by his hands clutching the sides of his head out of desperation.

Only the wind and brief rustling of the nearby palm trees provided any ambient noise to the otherwise silent and dim atmosphere.

This wasn't supposed to happen.

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Historical Notes:

Although archery itself predates as early back as 70 thousand years ago, the Egyptians were amongst the earliest civilizations to adopt archery in 2800 BCE. Bows were produced using wood, animal horns/sinew and glue. The bowstring was sometimes made with sheep intestines.

During the later years (New Kingdom), Egyptian archers would often ride chariots around the enemy and attack them from behind their lines.

Egypt would often recruit pítati (Nubian mercenaries) to aid them in conflicts. The Nubians primarily sent their archers to aid them. They were first used in the 6th Dynasty at around 2300 BCE.

Nubian mercenaries amongst Egyptian soldiers

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