Gemotions

The weight of the bow felt familiar in Emilia's hand. She’d spent countless hours perfecting her form, her aim, her focus. She had practiced diligently, and it had paid off. She felt the unwavering confidence that comes with mastery. She knew she was destined for this.

She stood at the line, the target centered in her sight. Her release was smooth, the arrow flying true. She was precise, powerful, and ready.

After the final round, the coach gathered the archers. He had the list in hand. He began to call out names. Emilia waited, her posture rigid, her gaze fixed on the coach.

Her name wasn't called. A cold wave of confusion washed over her. She watched as the other archers celebrated their success, their joy a sharp contrast to her own disappointment.