The Moment to Reflect - Part 1

"Come on, Conrad. Back on your feet."

More than two months had passed since Conrad's arrival at the farm. Over that course of time, Conrad had worked tirelessly, building up his borrowed body with a variety of different exercises. He was beginning to notice small amounts of visual muscle growth, and his attitude towards his intensive labor has markedly improved. Cassandra and Joshua, out of appreciation for his efforts, had even begun teaching him some...supplementary skills. Skills pertaining to protecting one's self from the beasts and creatures of the land.

Dusting himself off, Conrad returned to his feet and readied his sword, holding it in front of him in a defensive position. Cassandra stood in front of him, weapon in hand as well. Conrad focused on his breathing, attempting to regain his stamina. After he finished up here with Cassandra, he still had archery practice with Joshua. He couldn't let himself gas out yet. But something felt wrong.

His eyes drifted back to the floor. Cassandra cocked an eyebrow. "You're distracted. What is it?"

The structure that Conrad had set up for himself had done a decent job of keeping him too distracted for intrusive thoughts. For a time, at least. A day or so ago, they started interfering during training. A shot missed during archery that he otherwise would have landed. A hit landed against him during sword practice that he otherwise would have parried. Thank goodness they were using practice swords.

In truth, Nana's words to Conrad a couple months back had struck a chord. The idea of being forced to take on the identity of someone else in the future was bothering him. He already wasn't actually the person whose body he was inhabiting. He had no idea whether or not this young man had friends or family waiting for him somewhere. He had to be ready to learn an entirely new skillset whenever Nana suddenly decided they were done with Conrad's current body. And to top it all off, he was beginning to forget details about what his actual face looked like, which was scaring him for reasons that he hadn't fully wrapped his head around.

"Cassandra...I...I feel like I'm going through a bit of an identity crisis. I don't really know what my goals are right now. I'm having a hard time figuring out who, or what, I'm supposed to be. Does that make sense?"

Cassandra was quiet for a moment, observing Conrad carefully. Then, she put her practice sword down, motioning for Conrad to do the same. "Sit, my boy."

Conrad and Cassandra settled down into the grass.

"Listen to me, Conrad. Back when I was around your age, I was a member of the guard working at the royal capital. I built my skill with blade and bow, enforced the king's rule, and kept the people in line and safe from threats, internal and external. It was a gratifying life. I became feared by criminals for my strict treatment, and adored by many law-abiding citizens for my efforts."

"My life seemed to be perfect. I certainly thought it was. And then, a disruption entered the picture. And that disruption was none other than Joshua, my own future husband."

Conrad's eyes widened. "Was he a criminal or something when you first met him?"

Cassandra huffed. "No. But he was still a pain, in his own way. When I met him, Joshua was quite a trickster. He was some dopey-looking punk that approached me outside a tavern. Oher members of the guard and I were practicing archery there that day."

"I saw him walk up with a bow. He was holding it wrong, I remember that vividly. He was holding his bow by the string. Just carrying it like that without a sling or case. Looked like a complete idiot. But as the day's events proved to me, the actual idiot there was me."

"Joshua challenged me. Told me he needed money to cover his dues at the tavern next to us. We'd each shoot ten arrows. Whoever hit more bullseyes paid the sum he owed. Simple as that."

"I wasn't impressed by anything I saw of him, obviously. My friends were cackling and goading me on, urging me to accept. I hesitated, since it almost felt like bullying to me. But he was the one who had laid down the challenge. Eventually, I relented, and the competition was on."

"How did the challenge go?"

"He beat me. Decisively. I went first. All of my arrows hit or came near dead center. I was no slouch myself, having trained for a long time. Ended up getting five bullseyes."

"Then that punk stepped up to take his turn, and before he even fired his first arrow, I knew something was off. His body language had changed. His posture was immaculate. He took less time than I had to aim, every single time, and still walked away with eight bullseyes. I'm still confident to this day that he could have pulled off at least nine bullseyes if he had just taken his time more with each shot."

"My friends and I were floored. He smiled, waved at me, and took off without a care in the world. He was a con artist. Good at passing for an incompetent fool, but underneath that, he was the most prodigal archer I've ever seen in my life."

"What did you do once you realized he had tricked you?"

"Well, I paid for the meal, first. Throughout my whole life, I've always been very serious about keeping my word. But something had been rattled in me. My ego was bruised in a way it had never been before."

"Once his debts were squared away, I left the tavern and headed in the direction I had seen him leave. He hadn't actually committed a crime, so even as a member of the guard, I had no additional authority to detain him. But I still wanted to give him a piece of my mind. I was absolutely fuming."

"He was a slippery one. I spotted him sneaking into the city neighboring the capital shortly after. Not sure how we has able to move that fast. I was barely able to keep an eye on him from a distance, and it wasn't like he had that much of a head start on me."

"Ended up ambushing him a few hours later at a different tavern. No doubt he was going to pull the same routine on another unsuspecting fool. After I got my hands on him, he had the nerve to respond by challenging me again. But this time, he told me that if he won this new match, he wanted a date. I was so angry and fixated on getting back at him that I accepted. I knew how good he was before we started this time, and I wanted to get even."

"What happened that time?"

"It was a tie."

"Seriously?"

"Yes. I knew he was better than me overall. I knew I'd lose to him at least nine times out of ten. But something was working to my advantage in that match."

"My anger was focusing me, instead of making me sloppy. Maybe he was excited at the prospect of taking an impressive woman out on a date. Maybe the wind worked in my favor. Honestly, it was probably all of the above."

"We both hit eight bullseyes that time. We had a quick tiebreaker match where we each took turns shooting once until one of us missed a bullseye. He won the tiebreaker. But it flabbergasted him that I had actually tied with him in the match beforehand. He was a one-in-a-million talent with a bow, and wasn't used to being pressured like that. And then, infuriatingly, he didn't cash in on the date he had won."