A New Ally Emerges! Mayumi, The Dragon Archer!

Though initially stunned to the spot for a good few moments, Arata had found a notebook in his pocket and had decided to take notes for whatever reason. He had overheard the narrator’s confusion as to why he had decided to make notes for his manga now and not, say, when in Heimstadt…

“What exactly am I going to gain from a story whose Princess is literally called Plot Device?” He responded sharply, and the narrator backed off with his metaphorical tail between his metaphorical legs.

Happy with the notes taken thus far he closed the book and stored it back in his pocket before the rage returned. “Oi, shady guy!” He shouted into the clouds, the shade was too busy partying with a few of the triple B’s. “I didn’t sign up for this! Hell, I didn’t even sign up for the last place and you made it sounds like it was a one and done! Why the hell am I now in Koushun Takami’s garden?!” The silence felt like mockery, he knew the shadow could see him, and he was smiling… “Get me out of here you quack god! Get me out before some psycho murderer comes round that corner and…”

There he was. A good nine to ten foot tall, his face (eyes included) covered in a dark red mask only showing disfigured yellow teeth the size of knives. He was dad bod incarnate, holding a massive wooden mallet bigger than some boulders. He’d literally just broken through the treeline and saw Arata as the words “psycho murderer” left his mouth. Much to Arata’s terror… that was a compliment to him.

*-*-*

“AAAAAAAAAHHHHHH!” Through the shrubbery and away from the giant hammer man, with his arms trailing behind and his legs moving faster than they’d ever moved before. “What was that?! What was that?!” He screamed, hoping to turn back and see that he had left the monster in the dust but as he did, it was following him… walking, but with strides so long he could just about keep up.

“Hehehe…” It laughed, sounding stupid but also menacing enough to make Arata’s soul temporarily leave his body. “Prey… prey… prey!” It repeated, still following closely behind. “Go away!” Arata begged pathetically. “I’m not tasty! Go find a deer or…” Food, he realised the only thing on his person now, was the bow, the arrows… and the water. He’d left the food behind, one more ration gone, and now he would be left without for the remainder of this hellish battle. But, seeing the bow on his back gave him false hope, and like an anime character he jumped off a bolder in his way, spinning mid air and nocking the arrow and, almost in slow motion, released it…

For it to bounce off said boulder. “God damn it all!” He raged, and almost fell on his face when landing. Luckily he secured his footing and kept running like the wind. Even the monster following was laughing out loud.

Eventually, Arata was tiring, and that thing behind him was still there. He’d tried to take different routes, make turns in the road and hide when he could but each time the beast would be right behind him once more.

And now, slowly stumbling through the grass, wheezing, he searched for an escape. “Can I go left? It’s uphill, maybe he’ll get tired and lose interest.”

He saw that the beast was still happily skipping towards him without a care in the world. “Well… it’s been nice knowing you, world.” Taking the left route, he’d momentarily lost sight of the beast for the moment, and in a fight or flight panic, his mind kicked into gear. “The pen!”

Skillfully, he drew a perfect replica of himself from behind, the front, nothing more than a stick figure. He quickly launched himself headfirst into the bushes, and commanded his döppleganger to rush further on ahead. A few moments later, the beast was mere footsteps away from him, reading the footprints on the ground, unable to see the quivering artist sat motionless next to him. The beast smiled a toothy grin, “Hunt…” It whispered, before swinging its hammer in the air and following the trail of the pseudo Arata.

*-*-*

Somehow, he had managed to shake off the giant and, after a few minutes to assure he was safe, set up a zone for himself. He’d drawn several stick figures and spread them out in a large circle around him so that if any foes appeared, he had ample time to retreat or hide. Now, it was more about how to keep himself safe and fed, and first on his agenda… How to use a bow.

Within a few minutes he’d made his own archery range, complete with an over the top sign and a drinks bar… without any drinks… “yeah, that was a waste of time.”

Some of the targets were standard, some hanging from tree branches and others were spring loaded to pop up at random to mimic a chaotic battlefield. He stood at the start line like a seasoned professional, drawing in the air and holding his bow steady. “3…2…” the string loosened, and the arrow dropped to the floor. He still hadn’t properly trained how to actually fire anything yet, he stared at the arrow with a silent disappointment.

Attempt two came a lot later, after he had learned the basics and managed to hit the first target consistently… he did miss one shot, losing the arrow in the process but, he felt like he could always just draw more if needed. Now, he was ready. The first target hit dead centre, a step forward and two targets facing him, one at eye level and another on the incline. His first shot was good but the other was low, still he moved on, rolling forward to a section of moving targets. They were slow enough he could hit them well enough, and the static one tied to the tree.

It was going well, the final section was here. One target flipped down from the tree branch on his left and he hit it slightly to the right. The next swung around a corner, he ducked under the branch he had given it (as a sort of sword) and fired close range. “Last one!” He celebrated. It flipped up from the ground just ahead. Unfortunately for him, it wasn’t secured to the ground well enough and it broke away, spiralling just past his head, close enough he could hear the air bend beside him.

Despite his good form, the trial was a bust. He’d slumped down on a tree stump within his borders, dejected, throwing his weapon to the floor. “Great… at least if that hammer guy finds me he’ll have a few toothpicks.” He looked longingly at the moon as his stomach grumbled. “What was that shadow guy thinking? I’ve good next to no chance surviving in this place let alone make it out in one piece. I mean, maybe the other five would want to work together but, that thing sure as hell doesn’t and running into it again like this is a one way trip to the land of halos… wonder if they have pizza there…” his stomach growled again just thinking about it. An empty stomach makes for an active brain, the pen was in his hand. “I wonder…” he pondered. If he could draw a person back to life, what’s to say he couldn’t draw a piping hot stew, or a nice onigiri, hell, pizza makes everything better!

And, if this worked, he could produce food infinitely. The competitors should want for nought (fully forgetting this battle royale had a time limit, and they had enough food to last… or at least the others presumably did, this idiot ran away from his). But, this was the playing card, he wouldn’t be a dead shot archer, he would be the king of sustenance! “Control the food, control the universe!”

One triangle shape later, with a good layer of marinara and another of mozzarella, and a sprinkling of magic, a slice was born. He’d acted as if he’d just seen some faceless lover deliver him a son, raising it to the sky telling the world “this is my child”. Then, he took a hefty bite…

…

“Tastes… like ink.”

He was close to tears. The dream of an empire built on pizza and curry molded in his mind, falling apart to dust. Had he the strength, he’d have drawn a rope there and then. Alas, the pen did have its uses. “I can’t fire this thing, and for some sick twisted reason, I can’t create true beauty with it either. But, I brought Leona back, I drew her into existence… couldn’t I just try doing the same thing?” He thought. The shape of a person was sketched out quick enough, but he wanted to be certain this would be a good idea. “I can’t afford to have more mouths to feed, that and when I brought Leona back it drained me completely… maybe I should try just one instead of both Leona and Franz. But, can either of them use a bow? They’re both heroes but, neither of them even use swords so… maybe someone else?”

She was the first character he had drawn as a child. He didn’t even need to think when drawing her, it was all muscle memory. Slender and beautiful, short black hair covering her left eye. Japanese inspired of course, quiet and complicated but sweet and gentle beneath the walls she built. The protagonist of his masterpiece, Gale Force Wings. And, most importantly, was trained by her elder sister Megumi in archery when she was only six.

His magic flowed into the art, draining him and illuminating the greenery close by. Skin formed where ink was, fabrics flowed in the wind, and when the lights died down, she dropped to the ground, and took her first breath in this new world. Arata reached out when she opened her eyes, greeting her like his own daughter and smiling gently.

“I’ve wanted to meet you for so long…”

“Mayumi.”