Cammy felt utterly faint—yet again—as Mr Sultan handed a slick and simple chestnut-wood bow to her, along with a quiver-full of wooden arrows. Their small feathered tail ends fluttering in the wind as he made the motion.

"You'll use these until you earn the real deal. They are your standard-human tools, so be careful where you point, or whom you aim at," he had said with a sly smile, thoroughly enjoying the fact that he was about to teach Krish Kamdev's daughter how to shoot like a real Cupid. An expert marksman must have an expert daughter at least. That fine eyesight and aim of the father surely had to pass down to the daughter, no doubt. He just couldn't wait to have the next-best shot under his tutelage. His last disciple, Cupid 1080, Eros, had been incredible. Bullseye from the very first shot. Never once missed—no pressure at all.

"Just aim true." His smile had grown wider still.

Aim true? Yikes!

A little more than a week earlier, Aziz Sultan had sworn Cammy into the Cadetship of Cupids. He had bound her to a standard issue, enchanted notebook and quill—in that drool incident her dad still chuckled at—and had her oath-bound to keep their secrecy. As far as the wider world—meaning Becca and their school—was concerned, Cupids did not exist.

He had warned Cammy, should she try to reveal herself or anything to do with her real life—and yes, this was her real life now—she would be tongue-tied. Literally.

Aziz had laughed, saying, "Where do you think the saying tongue-tied comes from?" Then he had progressed to show her an aged, sepia-coloured image of a man whose tongue was indeed knotted.

The image had nearly made Cammy barf her breakfast, of course. Not that she was going to let it happen. She was still trying to learn the art of appearing tough around her tutor.

Anyway, as Cammy held the slick, thin bow in one hand and the heavy quiver in the other, her tiny, near-non-existent bicep quivered.

She looked at Mr Aziz with another 'you're kidding?' A look that seemed to be fast becoming her thing when it came to her 'extracurricular' lessons. It had been a week since she missed out on her real lessons: science, maths and English, oh my! Her mum had told her she would not be returning to school until she got a handle on 'things'. Things being those tiny, pesky, fluttering-when-unwanted, bleach-white wings with flecks of lavender she'd started growing on her birthday. 'Things' she couldn't yet control. Things no one wanted her to accidentally 'stretch' in class among twenty-something other students.

Her wings were now the size of her entire back when folded; as wide as her arms when unfurled—a skill she hadn't yet mastered among many, many other things. They even made 'sleeping like a baby', a turd of a task. She'd often wonder how birds sleep in her delirium, only to realise they don't sleep on their backs like humans...

She was tired, sleep deprived, and paddling like a poor swimmer in a deep pool when Aziz had given her the weapons.

"You want me to use these?" she had finally asked.

"Of course. Everyone starts with the basic bow and arrow set for target-practice. You don't think we'd let you handle advanced weaponry this early, surely, Miss Kamdev?" And he'd said it in a 'duh, everyone knows that,' fashion.

Cammy's eyebrows had quirked. Her wee brain imagined Armageddon—a line of Cupids with automatic machine guns designed to shoot love-spells en mass. "Advanced weaponry?" What kind of weaponry could he be talking about, and why were Gods in charge of love using weapons?!

She was afraid to hear the answer.

"Of course! You don't think we're so backward we'd still be using bows-and-arrows like Neanderthals, or god-forbid, those ridiculous baby images of Cupids humans draw? Like those wings could even support our celestial weight! Do they even know how much we weigh? We'd break their little machines. And don't get me started on the accuracy of shooting an arrow in a world-populated with billions. Even the mighty first gods can't work that kind of magic, love. Why do you think Kamdev made us in the first place?"

"My dad made you?"

Aziz had laughed so hard it made Cammy jump with fright and nearly let loose her quiver-full of arrows.

"Your dad? Dear lord, no. Your dad's one of the direct descendants, and by that you are too, but no. I'm talking about the Original Cupid, Kam Dev. The first one to come into existence. The most powerful of us all. The one who lends you a tiny portion of his ability via your essence... the one whose feather you use as your quill. It binds all Cupid and our abilities to him."

Cammy's mouth obviously fell open. Each day she was learning more and more about her 'real' life, and the more she knew about it, the more she wanted to talk to someone about it. Share her shock, horror and joy, and the one person she really wanted to talk to, she wasn't even allowed to call lately. Becca.

Rati, her mother had told Becca she'd gone to visit her sickly grandmother with her dad, and may not be back until the old lady passes—on the brink of death she was—a lot of bullshit as far as Cammy knew. She'd never even heard her parents mention their parents, let alone met any of them. Part of her had always wondered why her family was just three. And now, she was realising why it may have been that way.

Did Gods procreate? Did they have parents like she did? Did she have grandparents? Who knew!

"You're talking about the Cupid, the one and only?" Cammy felt another shock wave course through her body. She couldn't help but picture the divine light of her mother... what would the Real Cupid be like? If his iridescent feather was anything to go by, he'd be magnificent. Marvelous. Indescribable. Impossible to behold.

"What does he look like?"

Cammy hadn't realized she'd asked out loud.

"He hasn't returned to Earth in eons. I couldn't tell you what he looks like, for I've never laid eyes on him myself." Aziz's voice dropped, a little heavy, full of longing and regrets. "Fortunate are those that have seen him and blessed are those who have worked under his tutelage! I can only dream—"

"You haven't seen him? Ever?"

Aziz Sultan shook his head.

"Has anybody?"

Aziz slowly nodded. "Of all the cupids in this world, only one ever has."

Before Cammy could ask who, he added. "Only she could tell you what he looks like."

"She?"

Aziz had smiled. "Your mother. She is not of this world. Not the way you and I are."

Forgetting about the bow and arrow she still held in her hand, Cammy gawked. "My mother?"

"Indeed. Now, shall we begin your first archery lesson? Let's see your aim... maybe ten meters first?"

Mr Sultan walked off, counting his wide strides as Cammy stared.

Her mother was not of this world? Then what world was she from? Or off? What did that mean?

Ten paces away, a small dummy the size of Mr Sultan appeared beside him, bounding like a happy child.

"There. This should do. Let's see what I'm working with first. Aim and shoot, Miss Kamdev."

His voice drifted towards her eagerly.

"Aim and shoot?" she repeated under her breath. "You've obviously never seen me at sports."

"Go on then. Let's see what you can do." Mr Sultan eagerly coaxed, standing far too close to the target dummy to be healthy.

With a shaking hand, Cammy pulled out her first arrow from the human-standard quiver. Aim and shoot—easy to say, hard to do. She didn't even know how to hold the darn things. She was shaking like a leaf.

WC: 1319               TWC: 8354

[A/N: What do you think is going to happen next? 😂 Aziz might come to regret his choice of pupil one day.]