The archer felt hunger grip him as he drew his arrow and aimed at the elusive buck that he’d been stalking for days. His strength left him and he fell forward, catching his weight with his free hand. He was acutely aware of the energy in his body, the earth, and all around.

Clutching the earth, he pulled the energy up into his arm. He couldn’t miss again. He drew another arrow and imagined it striking it true, the feast to follow. He whispered a prayer and loosed the arrow.

The arrowhead flashed brilliant light and slew the startled stag.

Author’s Note: When doing archery, I always felt a connection to nature. Perhaps it was because the range my father took me to was far out in the bush, but I feel that magic could have come from places like this.

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Grimm bounced his rubber ball off the ceiling. He loved mercenary work, but the travel between planets was killer. They were en route to investigate attacks on Phobos’ mining facilities, and the flight from Venus took three days.

He glance at his elf partner, who was playing with his mobile communicator. There’s no signal in hyperspace. They’d been partners for years but never connected off of the battlefield.

Grimm bounced his ball again and his partner turned and opened his mouth. At that moment the alarms sounded.

“Exiting hyperspace, assume battle positions, prepare for orbital drop.”

Saved by the bell.

Author’s Note: I’m sure that I would not be the first person to be intrigued at the idea of fantasy elements in space. I mean, picture an orc squeezing into a space craft, or a dwarf with a blaster rifle.

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