The Archer's Heart by Astrid Amara

repeated.
    “Then loose your arrow.”
    Jandu released the string. It slapped painfully against his arm, but the arrow stayed true to the target. The bird tumbled to the earth. Mazar retrieved the target, and held it up for Jandu’s brothers to examine.
    “Learn from Jandu,” Mazar told the others. “Learn that an archer sees nothing but his target. The rest of the world is lost in shadow.”
    Now when Jandu put his eye to a target and drew back his bowstring, the world contracted until only a pinprick of sight remained. His target. Fragments of sound, doubt, fear and desire: everything melted into the dark. Jandu would release the string, and claim his prize.
    But for the first time, Jandu needed to direct his focus towards something other than archery. If he wanted to befriend Keshan, he would have to think of himself as a hunter stalking prey, rather than just a student aiming at a target. He must lure Keshan to him, take aim and fire. But he was at a loss as to what he could use to ensnare Keshan.
    Jandu’s family was far too busy to indulge his self-assessment. He got Baram alone for an afternoon and went on and on about how he would never be an intellectual. Baram responded by standing up, poking Jandu in the eye, and then walking out. Jandu then tried discussing his qualities as a human being with Yudar. Yudar listened, as he always did. He sat cross-legged in his chambers and smiled benignly at his brother, nodding as Jandu spoke as if Jandu were the center of the universe. But it seemed that Yudar had planned other activities. As Jandu described the different opportunities he had as a youth to better himself in the arts of medicine, he noticed Yudar frequently looking askance at Suraya, a blush forming across his face.
    Jandu stopped talking when it was plain to see that Yudar had become aroused, trousers bulging, and it was probably not from Jandu’s fourteen-year-old medical ambitions. Jandu slunk away, feeling worse when the door shut behind him and he heard Suraya giggle.
    As a last effort, Jandu invited Master Mazar for a private lunch. He had servants bring tea and plied his teacher with sweets.
    “I heard about your success in the temple,” Mazar said. He was a glutton for sugar, and had his mouth filled with candied pastries before he completely sat down at the low table.
    Jandu pushed his own plate towards his master. He himself had no interest in sweets.
    “I am very proud of you,” Mazar said. He smiled widely.
    Jandu nodded. “Thank you.”
    “You are everything I have trained you to be,” Mazar said.
     “But I wonder—am I nothing but a warrior?”
    Mazar scowled. “What?”
    Jandu spoke quickly. “I just mean, shouldn’t I have studied the finer arts as well? Like painting, or music?”
    Mazar stared at Jandu as if he had just grown another head. “Don’t be absurd,” he spat. “You are the finest archer in the world. And you want more?”
    Jandu shrugged.
    “Do you think there is no art in using shartas?” Mazar said. “I have taught everything you know to your brothers as well. And yet they cannot control the weapons like you can. None of them have your focus or concentration.” Mazar grinned. “Remember the bird’s eye?”
    “I remember,” Jandu said, sighing.
    Mazar threw down his honey pastry with unnecessary force. His white eyebrows drew together. “Tell me what this is really all about.”
    Jandu flushed. He hated being so transparent.
    “I just…” Jandu looked at his feet. “I want to befriend a person who has little interest in war and I don’t have anything else to talk about.” The silence hung between them. Jandu felt the gravity of his own words, and wanted to curl up in shame from it all. There could be nothing more embarrassing than this.
    Mazar remained silent for so long, Jandu had to look up to make sure he hadn’t simply left the room. Mazar stared at his pupil with a soppy smile.
    “Oh, Jandu,” Mazar said, shaking his head. “This girl you