“Wake up, wake up, wake up!” my father called out boisterously as the ramming of a spoon against a metal pan startled the living daylights out of Varis and me.

  We screamed as the cnging jolted me upright and sent Varis scrambling beneath his covers. Meanwhile, Father stood in the doorway and ughed.

  “What the heck!” I whined. I was having such a nice dream, too: I was older, prettier, casting spells, and pying with someone cute… everything was going so well. I shook my head and sighed as Father set the spoon and pan on a desk.

  “It’s time you two get up, get dressed, and meet me outside in fifteen!” he ordered in a drill-sergeant tone. He’d used it before, and it suited him far too well. “Up! Up!”

  We groaned as Father left the room. The two of us rolled out of bed. “Couldn’t he have just woken us up normally?” I said.

  “I guess not,” Varis said. “I swear, if he’s making us do chores, I’m going to be so mad. I already need to shovel the snow ter.”

  “Well, he said he wanted to show us something, not make us do something.” I groggily stepped out of my one-piece, then stopped.

  “I’m already looking away,” Varis said, and I sighed with relief as I continued to get changed. Today’s outfit was simir to the one before, though this time I chose a dark-blue dress and a vest with white trimming, the skirt stopping slightly above my ankles. Beneath the dress, I wore two yers of bck stockings, calf boots, and to top everything off, I grabbed my heavy hooded cloak.

  My brother changed into thick overalls that covered his bck button-up shirt. Over that, he had his thick brown winter coat and fur scarf. He pced a matching ft cap on his head and side-eyed me, his green and blue eyes reflecting the light from the mp nearby. Something about him seemed different today; had he gotten taller, or did I shrink?

  “Something wrong, Luna?” he asked.

  “No, I just think you look nice today.”

  Pying the cute card made him flustered. “Th-Thank you; you do as well.” He took a deep breath before suddenly challenging me! “Race you down the stairs!” He bolted out the bedroom door.

  Oi, what does he think he’s doing?!

  “Hey! No running inside!” I yelled as I scurried after him.

  I nearly tripped down the steps and stumbled over the rocking chair in the living room, my dress doing me no service in the struggle to keep up with Varis. Thankfully, our ruckus didn’t wake up our mother as we made it outside to our backyard.

  A few dozen feet behind the house was the cabin Mother always snuck off to, which was also her bakery and the pce where Madam Soza stayed; to its left was an outhouse where a small pile of cans sat stacked; and the rest of the yard was just a big, wide-open field with a sycora tree and a short wooden fence. I did see one new addition: a small, makeshift table that my father had set up by stacking two columns of rocks and pcing a board over the two of them. On that board was a line of cans.

  He had just finished setting these up when he turned to us and said, “About darn time you two got out here!” He stuck his hands in the pockets of his dark trench coat. “Almost thought taking the day off of work was a waste with how slow you are.”

  “Luna was fussing over her underwear, that’s why!” Varis joked.

  “No, I wasn’t!” I puffed my cheeks out as Father came over shaking his head.

  “Well, anyway, gd to see you two munchkins out here. So, are you ready?”

  I blinked and cocked my head. “Ready for what?”

  Without warning, Father reached into his back pocket and pulled out what looked like a revolver. My heart froze. A vision of people running and screaming, the man in the white hoodie aiming his gun at me, made my breath shallow. I nearly fell backwards.

  Varis turned and grabbed me by the arm, stopping my fall. “Luna, what’s wrong?”

  My father stowed the gun away and raised his hands. “Luna, Luna, it’s okay; it’s unloaded. What’s wrong?”

  I shook my head, snapping myself out of it, my little heart racing faster than ever. With a deep breath, I said, “N-Nothing… nothing… I just… I just… don’t like…” I coughed. “I don’t like guns.”

  My father looked ashamed, not of me but of himself. “I’m sorry, Luna. I didn’t know; I should’ve warned you,” he sighed. “Well, Merlin’s beard… That’s not what I was expecting.”

  Now I couldn’t help but feel bad. “Don’t worry, Father, I-I’m okay. What did you want to show us, the gun?” Judging by the context clues, he was going to show us how to shoot. Even in my past life, I’d never shot a gun before, so this would be interesting.

  “I was going to teach you two how to use a gun so that maybe we could go out hunting in the future,” he expined as he stepped closer. “Are you sure you’re okay, Luna? You look faint.” He pced his hand against my forehead, checking my temperature. “Well, you feel fine.”

  “I am, Father,” I said. “I just had a couple nightmares before, that’s all.” That was a lie. Honestly, I didn’t know what was wrong with me. Yesterday I had a panic attack over what happened to Varis and now I almost had one again at the sight of a firearm. It’s not like it was the first time I’d seen one in this world. I recalled seeing hundreds of weapons at the Frostnd March, and I’d read about and seen even more in my family’s books. So why did I feel this pressure? This… heaviness at seeing the gun my father carried, why did it unnerve me?

  You know exactly why, a voice inside said, but before I could dwell on it, I closed my eyes and stuffed those thoughts away. I took a deep breath and noticed my father was speaking to me.

  “You get into reading my war books again?” Father looked down at me, his eyebrows cocked. “I warned you not to read those. They’re quite graphic.”

  They were; I’d snuck a peek at a couple of them. Reading about a man having his blood frozen inside of him by an ice magister was quite brutal.

  “I haven’t,” I lied. “But I’m okay; I am. I want to learn how to shoot!” Another lie, I wasn’t really interested, but part of me feared how my father and brother would react if I declined. Besides, maybe it would be a useful skill to learn.

  “Me too!” Varis pumped his fist. “I always wanted to know what it was like!”

  Father beamed and motioned us over to his makeshift shooting range.

  “I already warned your mother and Isa about what we’re doing this morning, so don’t be afraid when things get loud.” He chuckled. “Now, Varis and Luna, stand right here. I’m going to give you the rundown first.”

  I wasn’t too surprised to hear that firearm safety was pretty much the same here as back on Earth. A gun is a gun no matter where you are in the universe… that is, if I was even in the same universe. The weapon Father presented us with did make me incredibly anxious: it was a revolver, like the one that had killed me in my other life. In this world, though, it was called a cycler simply because it cycled through the chambers.

  Well, technically the Maurich name for the gun could have about fifty different meanings, if I just shifted the tones a little. A ton of words were like that. Even a slight change to their pronunciation could give them a whole different definition. That was the hardest part about learning both the Maurich and Common nguages. Once I’d mastered the basics, they turned out to be quite fluid and efficient, but my inner American still had the occasional stumble.

  If I ever get a job transting Maurich or Common into English, the pay better be worth it.

  Anyway, what was I talking about? Oh, right, guns.

  The cycler only had four chambers rather than the six I was used to. Not only that, but when Father pulled out a few bullets, my eyes widened at the sheer size of them. One round was half the size of his thumb and just as thick. They seemed to have a silvery lead casing, except the tips. Those instead were red crystals that glowed faintly.

  “These here are .44 elis hardened mag rounds.” Father expined, “Big boys that can punch through even the toughest of hides and armor. It’s said that they can even bring down a charging yogi.”

  When he mentioned mag, I didn’t think he meant magnum. “Father, what does mag mean?” I asked.

  “Mag is short for magrite. These bullets are made from depleted magrite crystals, the same crystals that run the lights in our home.”

  “So, they’re magical bullets?” Varis asked, and Father thought for a moment.

  “Essentially yes. The weapon draws out what little power is left and uses that to propel the projectile it creates forwards. That energy is stored inside the bullet.” He stuffed them back into his pocket. “When holding a gun, always keep your finger off the trigger; make sure this safety switch is on, it stops you from accidentally pulling the trigger; and keep it pointed at the ground. Never, under any circumstances, point a weapon at anyone, including yourself, of course. Unless, and this is the only exception, someone is coming to hurt you.” He looked at Varis, his expression serious. “I mean it. If I ever see or hear that either of you pointed a weapon at someone, even if it’s unloaded, I’ll unleash the hells upon you.”

  Varis and I nodded silently, to which Father said, “No, no, don’t nod your heads. I want to hear it. Do I make myself clear?”

  “Yes, Father,” we said in unison.

  He smiled. “Good. We’re going to start with you, Varis.” My brother pumped his fist as Father chuckled and motioned for him to step up.

  With his back to us, Father opened the cycler to make sure it was empty. Then he knelt beside Varis, walking him through how to hold it.

  I shifted on the sidelines. Despite my early apprehension, I couldn’t help but feel a sense of anxiety and excitement coursing through me. I’d never even held a firearm before. I’d shot a crossbow once, but that was back in camp at age eleven, which was so long ago. Still hesitant, I watched as Father took the gun away from Varis and turned his back, seemingly loading the weapon, before handing it back.

  He showed him the safety switch, then pointed at a nearby can. “Take a deep breath, calm your breathing, hold it with both hands, line the sights with the can, and gently squeeze the trigger,” Father expined. Then Varis, shaking, squeezed the trigger of the gun.

  He yelped, scaring me as the gun jerked upwards, but… nothing happened. No bst, no smoke, no crack of the round ripping through the air. “Wh-What happened?” Varis asked. He looked to Father, who smiled and shook his head.

  “Nothing; that’s exactly what I expected. There’s no bullets in the gun. When you pulled the trigger, you expected the kick, didn’t you?” he asked.

  Varis hesitated and gnced at the gun then nodded. “Yeah.”

  “And because of that, you flinched and yanked the gun upward.” Father pointed straight up with his thumb. “If that was really loaded, you would’ve completely missed that can just a couple dozen garos ahead of you. So, you need to get used to pulling the trigger without flinching.” He took the gun from Varis and loaded it in front of him. “This time the kick will be there, but don’t be scared. Brace yourself and focus on the can.”

  My brother lined up his shot, breathed as Father instructed, and focused for a few tense seconds. Finally, there came an immensely deep and loud pop. A red and blue fre erupted out of the gun and its gas ports, followed by a red energy bolt that shot forth for a split second, striking the first can. There was a fsh as the spot where the bullet struck exploded in a spray of molten metal fragments. The can flew back, somehow spiraling.

  Magic bullets, I guessed, my eyes wide as the smoking can sank into the snow a few feet away from the table. The gun sounded like a mix of a Star Wars bster rifle and a hand cannon.

  “Excellent!” our father cheered. “See, it isn’t that bad when you’re expecting it. As long as you don’t flinch and focus, you’ll be a crack shot in no time. C’mon, we got three more shots. Let’s see if you can hit the others.”

  Varis shuddered with excitement and beamed with joy as he began to line up the next shots. More tense seconds passed before once again a loud, deep crack of energy erupted from the gun, unleashing another red bolt. He struck the second can, then the third and fourth in quick succession.

  “Attaboy!” Father appuded.

  Varis cheered, jumped in the air, and high-fived Father. “Luna, did you see that?” he called out.

  “Yeah! You really knocked them out!” I gave him a small fist pump.

  “Would you like to give it a try, Luna?” Father asked. He took the gun back from Varis and began to unload the spent cartridges.

  There’s no harm in trying it; besides, it might be fun. “I’ll be right over.” Lifting my skirt a bit, I trudged through the snow.

  Father asked Varis to grab some new, untouched cans from near the outhouse. Varis nodded and ran off while I took his spot.

  “How are you holding up?” Father murmured. “Are you feeling more comfortable?”

  I nodded. “A little. It’s just a bit scary.”

  “It can be, though it doesn’t have to be. Once you get used to it, I can see both you and your brother being deadeyes.”

  “Are you one, Father?” I asked him. He pulled back a bit, and I swore for half a second he cringed.

  Yet as quickly as he did, he recovered, his mustache lifting in a smile, his cheeks blushing. “Well, heh… I don’t like to brag, but…” Oh, he’s going to act full of himself now. “I actually met your mother at a shooting range when I got first pce in the province during a shooting competition.” He gave me a smug look.

  “Is that so?” I said.

  “What, do you not believe me?” He frowned, acting as if he were offended, and I couldn’t help but giggle.

  “No, no, I do. Where did you learn how to shoot?”

  His expression changed again after yet another question he didn’t expect. “Oh, uh… oh boy, how long has it been?” he said. “I started way back when my father got his first gun, some eighty years ago.”

  Wait, eighty?

  “Eighty?”

  Father cocked an eyebrow. “Yeah, why do you sound confused? Hasn’t Soza taught you about us elves yet?” He pyfully poked my forehead. “We live pretty long lives, Luna. You have so much time ahead of you. Hence, it’s best we learn this kind of stuff now.” He chuckled.

  “Cans are ready, Father!” Varis called as he rushed back over to us.

  If Father got his first gun some eighty years ago… “Father, how old are you?”

  He gave Varis another high five, then turned to me. “Well, aren’t you just full of questions this morning, missy?” he teased. Then he hung his head back in thought, as if it were hard to remember such a thing. “If I’m right, uh, I should be about a hundred and ten this year, in, uh… two weeks, actually.”

  “Oh!” Varis squeaked out. “How old is Momma? She never tells me when I ask her.”

  “Oi, that’s because you never ask a dy her age,” Father said sternly, though a mischievous smile crossed his face. He knelt close to us, cupped a hand around his mouth, and whispered, “But don’t tell her that I told you she’ll be a hundred and two this spring, so you both better get ready for her birthday.”

  My eyes widened. A hundred and ten and a hundred and two? My parents looked no older than thirty. How long did elves live in this world? How old was I going to be?

  “Speaking of birthdays,” Varis said, “isn’t Luna’s coming up too?”

  “I think so,” I said. I hadn’t been paying attention to the calendar.

  Father remained silent, staring off into the distance.

  “Papa?” Varis poked him.

  “You forgot, didn’t you?” I said bluntly.

  “No.” He lied as easily as he breathed. After a second, he shook his head. “How about we get back to the task at hand, Luna?” Father motioned me closer as he began to break down how this weapon worked.

  The cycler was surprisingly light in my hands. It was a bit big; I had to hold it with both. Learning more about the safety features calmed me down somewhat. What I was really scared about, though, was the kickback. I recalled all those old YouTube videos of people firing Desert Eagles and .44 Magnums and, because they held the weapons wrong, throwing the weapons on accident or giving themselves bck eyes.

  After Father had gone over the gun with me, he took it and, like Varis, turned his back on me. I felt ready, just knowing he was doing the same trick. He’s going to try and make me look like a fool, I thought, or maybe he knows that I already know that he’s going to fake-reload it, so to fake me out, he’s going to load live ammunition?

  Father turned back around and handed me the “loaded” gun. “Here you go, little dy; be very careful.” He pced a hand on my shoulder, the other pointed towards the can on the right end of the makeshift table. “Line the sights up, take a deep, steady breath, and as you exhale, pull the trigger slowly.”

  I nodded, raised the gun, and did my best to align my swaying arms so that the iron sights overpped with the can. As I exhaled and my arms stilled, I pulled the trigger, then yelled as my arms jerked upwards and the gun almost went straight up into the air. Yet nothing had happened.

  Darnit, I still fell for it! I whimpered as Father sighed and smiled at me.

  “It’s okay; that’s to be expected.”

  “You tricked me,” I whined.

  “I did, but it was for this exact reason. You saw your brother. He flinched too, and like him, you would’ve shot some poor bird.” He smiled. “Now, c’mon, let’s try that again. You need to get used to pulling the trigger and not flinching.”

  Unlike Varis, I wasn’t so easy. How he was able to master this in no time at all, I had no clue. I spent a long while dry firing the gun as Father gave me pointers and adjusted my grip.

  After about twenty minutes, Madam Soza joined us. She came out of the cabin dressed in a long, flowing dress with a heavy bck cloak.

  “So you are the ones making all the ruckus out here.” She sounded tired, though her purring suggested she was in good spirits.

  “Yeah!” Varis was practically bouncing up and down. “You should’ve seen me, Madam Soza; I shot all the cans in one go!”

  “I heard. That means you’re the one who woke me up.” She smiled widely, her fangs showing.

  Varis ughed nervously and backed away. “Y-Yeah, sorry.”

  Father snickered. “I did warn you and Cailynn about this,” he said as he loaded the cycler with four live rounds, then handed it to me. “Alright, Luna. You’ve gotten a little better, but now we need to test with the real thing. Just like before, line your sights and grip the gun hard, and don’t try and compensate. Just point, aim, and shoot. Breathe deeply and pull the trigger on your exhale.”

  I nodded as butterflies began to build in my stomach. Now that Madam Soza was here watching, I felt like I had a whole audience before me, and stage fright was setting in. Yet I raised the weapon and followed my father’s instructions, I lined up my sights, exhaled, and squeezed.

  The force of the gun’s kick rode down my arms, jerking me back just a bit. The weapon rose only about an inch or so upwards on the recoil. My ears rang slightly, but I could still hear the sharp ping and tiny explosion as the energy bolt struck the can and sent it flying with sparks and shards of molten metal.

  “Fantastic!” Father cheered.

  “Good shot, little one!” Madam Soza cried, giving a little golf cp.

  “Nice one, Luna!” Varis bounced. “Bet you can’t hit the other ones!”

  “Oh, shut it!” I said over my shoulder. I swung around to the next one, but my father stopped me.

  “Whoa, whoa, not so fast.” He was guiding my arms away gently. “Take your time. Don’t rush shooting, or else you’ll make mistakes.”

  Moments ter, he released me, allowing me once more to aim on my own. After repeating the same steps, I pulled the trigger. Crack! The shot struck the second can. I turned to the next, breathed, squeezed, and crack; the third one was sent tumbling down. On to the st can. I aimed and fired, but nothing.

  The bolt whizzed over the can and into the distant rolling hills. “Darnit!”

  “You swiveled a bit too fast on the st one there,” Father said. “But three out of four is still excellent.”

  “Ha, told you!” Varis teased, and I gred at him from over my shoulder. He stuck his tongue out at me.

  Father said, “Hey now, this isn’t a competition. At least not yet.” He winked. “Maybe as you both get better, we all can have a family contest. But for now, this is just practice.”

  I nodded and sighed. “Can I try again?”

  He paused before reaching into his trench coat to pull out his pocket watch. “Your mother should be waking up now if she hasn’t already, and I’d like to see her. Why don’t we all eat breakfast, and afterwards we can come out and shoot some more?” He looked to Madam Soza. “Would you like to shoot with us? I have a lever rifle you could use, Isa. If memory serves me right, you are quite the markswoman.”

  “Wait, what?” both Varis and I said.

  Madam Soza blushed. “That was long ago; I haven’t fired a rifle in many years. But if you’re offering, I wouldn’t mind.” Her tail swished gently.

  “You mean our teacher used to shoot guns?” Varis blurted as he looked between Father and Madam Soza.

  She chuckled and said, “There is a lot I haven’t told you two. But as I said before, story time can come ter. If you remember to ask, I’ll tell.” She purred. “But now I am hungry. Let us go eat.”

  “Agreed. C’mon, kids.” Father motioned for us all to follow him inside and enjoy a fine breakfast before a day’s worth of practicing.

  One question that has always puzzled me whenever I step outside at night and gaze upon the stars and moons is, “Are we truly alone?” Are we truly the only people in all of the void to have developed as we have? It’s indefensible that life on other worlds can’t exist. The Wylde has been proven to exist, and simply gazing up at Radiance shows that life out in the void is there. But what I’m asking is if there’s intelligent life. Otherworlders from nds far from here, on pnets not so different from ours, or maybe completely different. Radiance shows us that other pnetoids can develop like our own, and if so, why isn’t Radiance showing signs of intelligent life like here on Enora? Why do we not see the lights of cities and towns like ours? Perhaps if there is life beyond Enora, the next question would be about how to communicate. How would we travel? These are the questions that keep me thinking at night.

  —Life Beyond Enora, Elin Tenure.