The air around him began to stir, wisps of wind gathering around his form. With effort, he pushed the energy outward, and a thin, fluctuating aura of sky-blue wind wrapped around his body.

  The Tempest Form’s first level was, rough. While the form that Skysong had shown when they first meet appeared as if it were an armor of solidified wind, Skyheart’s appeared more like he was wearing a violent wind that couldn’t decide what shape it wanted to be. The energy swirled chaotically, occasionally condensing into almost-solid patches before dispersing again.

  Still, it was a marked improvement from his first attempt. Back during his first attempts he’d only managed to blow himself backward. With this he could now be considered having reached the most basic level of Tempest From.

  While Tempest Form had no real levels to make the training easier, Skysong had named the forms with levels and marked them as basic, adept and Expert, or first, second, third forms, with mastery being the complete control a level that elder feather had. One which Skysong currently did not achieve.

  Skysong nodded approvingly. “Not bad. How long can you sustain it?”

  In answer, she snapped her fingers and brought her own hands together. Her transformation was instant and flawless - the wind armor manifesting as a perfect ethereal shell around her form. Even at the first level, though it was not a full solidified armor, hers looked more far more stable and defined than his.

  They stood twenty feet apart, both encased in their vague wind armor. Skyheart could feel the enhancement coursing through him - his muscles felt lighter, his reflexes sharper. The world seemed to slow slightly as his perception accelerated to match his new speed.

  Skysong raised one hand, and blades of compressed wind formed around her fingers. “Begin!”

  She flung the wind blades forward in a spreading pattern. Skyheart’s enhanced speed let him dodge the first two, but the third forced him to counter with his own technique. He thrust both palms forward, creating a wind blade of his own, however while she effortlessly shot out multiple windblades the difficulty in which he unleashed one wind blade that intercepted the blade was evident in his face. The two attacks met in a burst of dispersed air that rustled the grass between them.

  “Better control, and you finally made a perfect shape! Good,” Skysong noted, already preparing her next assault. This time she created multiple wind spears, similar to what Elder Feather had used against Validus, though nowhere near as numerous or refined. Five lances of compressed air materialized above her head.

  Skyheart’s eyes widened. He managed to form two of his own, but his concentration on the technique made his Tempest Form flicker dangerously. The first of Skysong’s spears shot forward. He dodged, his enhanced speed letting him blur to the side as fast as a sparrow in flight yet still trackable to an experienced eye.

  The second and third spears came simultaneously. He deflected one with his own smaller wind spear but had to dive to avoid the other. The motion disrupted his form further, the wind armor guttering like a candle in a storm.

  “Focus on maintaining your form,” Skysong advised, walking forward calmly as her remaining spears circled above her. “The techniques should flow from it, not disrupt it.”

  He gritted his teeth and tried to stabilize his Tempest Form while keeping mobile. The enhancement let him stay just ahead of her attacks, darting and weaving with inhuman agility. But sustaining both movement and technique was draining him rapidly.

  After another minute of exchanges, Skysong smiled beautifully, her silver hair dancing in the wind of her own aura. “Good. You seem to have Form One down reasonably well. Now let’s kick it up.” Her eyes sparkled with mischief. “Form Two.”

  The change in her armor was immediate. Where Form One had been a flowing, ethereal presence, Form Two condensed and solidified. The wind still moved and breathed around her, but now it held shape - a translucent breastplate, greaves, gauntlets. It was as if the wind dedicated itself to protect her. The defensive properties were visible in how the air itself seemed to thicken around her.

  She dashed forward, her speed increasing noticeably. Not significantly faster, but enough that Skyheart cursed under his breath. She was on him in seconds, forcing close combat while seamlessly mixing in wind blades and compressed air bullets.

  “I need to solidify the armor and enter the next level.” he grunted, desperately trying to solidify his own armor while backpedaling. Unlike other quill abilities, Tempest Form did not need the patience and control that he lacked but instead required a strange ferocity that could only be found in the wind.

  Still, techniques such as these required a combination of skills merged into one move. This complicated technique was known as quill battle arts. By combining multiple techniques that could be used for different purposes, such as merging attacking and defensive moves together, it could produce something different entirely or an enhanced version of one or the other. By fusing a set of Aeroquill moves together, Elder Feather had created a battle art of pure ferocity - Tempest Form!

  Skyhearts version was even messier than the previous form - patches of semi-solid wind appearing and disappearing randomly across his body. But it was enough to turn aside her first palm strike, the condensed air around his forearm acting like a bracer.

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  She pressed the assault, her hands and feet becoming a blur of strikes enhanced by miniature wind blades that extended her reach. Skyheart had no time for counterattacks. Every ounce of concentration went into maintaining his unstable Form Two while creating defensive wind barriers and dodging the few fists, kicks, staff strikes, and wind blades that went through. A swirling shield of air blocked her knee strike, only for her elbow to slip through and catch his ribs. The Form Two armor absorbed some of the impact, but he still felt it.

  “Your defense is still lacking,” she said as she swept at his legs.

  He jumped, but she’d anticipated it—her palm caught him mid-air, sending him tumbling despite his armor’s protection.

  “You’re falling back into the same mistakes as last time. You can do better than that. Your armor is both a defensive and supportive technique—remember that.”

  Skyheart rolled to his feet, panting. His Form Two was already failing, wisps of escaped wind streaming off him like smoke. Skysong hadn’t even broken a sweat.

  She tilted her head, studying him with those storm-cloud eyes. “Ready for Form Three?”

  Before he could protest, her armor transformed again. The change was dramatic - where Form Two had been solid, Form Three was magnificent. The wind armor became almost completely opaque, looking like actual battle gear crafted from crystallized air and frozen tempests. Decorative patterns of swirling winds etched themselves across the surface. The power radiating from her made the grass flatten in a circle around her feet.

  She moved.

  Skyheart’s enhanced perception barely registered her approach. She was beyond normal human limits, covering the distance between them in a blink. Her fist came forward, and though the compressed air punch itself was invisible, Skyheart saw its effect as the grass split in a line toward him.

  He threw himself sideways, pushing his failing Form Two to its absolute limit. The air punch passed where he’d been standing, and the boulder behind him cracked audibly from the pressure wave.

  “Chirp chirp chirp!” Sky Child took flight in alarm, circling higher.

  Skysong was already there when he landed, her movements flowing like a hurricane given human form. He blocked desperately, each impact against his unstable armor sending shockwaves through his body. The difference in their abilities was overwhelming, even if there were two, three, four more Skyhearts he doubts he would stand a chance.

  A compressed air punch caught his shoulder, spinning him around despite his armor. Another hit his leg, dropping him to one knee. His Form Two shattered completely, leaving him gasping.

  He desperately tried to reach the classified Form Three, pulling on every ounce of power he had left to reach the armor’s full power.

  For a single second, it worked. Perfect wind armor encased him, beautiful and terrible all at once. He felt the power surge through him, his perception sharpening to an incredible degree, his body feeling like it could move as fast as the wind itself.

  Then it shattered like glass, the backlash dropping him flat on his back with his vision spinning.

  Skysong laughed, a sound like wind chimes in a gentle breeze, and her Form Three dissolved back into ordinary air. She knelt beside him, checking to make sure he was alright.

  “You learned quickly, Skyheart. When Elder Feather beat me up during training, it took me a whole month before I could manifest Form Three at all.”

  “Yeah, well,” Skyheart groaned from the ground, bruises evident across his exposed skin, “I can’t even use Form Three yet. Just that one second nearly knocked me unconscious.”

  “Don’t worry,” Skysong said sweetly, helping him sit up. “When I’m through with you, you’ll be able to use it properly - at least in small bursts.” Her laugh was beautiful yet the implication… terrifying.

  Skyheart was in too much pain to appreciate its beauty and could only wince at the thought of getting pummeled.

  “I see the training goes well.”

  Both turned to see Elder Feather approaching, her weathered face showing approval as she took in Skyheart’s battered condition and Skysong’s barely ruffled appearance.

  “Elder Feather,” Skysong rose and bowed respectfully. “He’s progressing faster than expected. His unconventional style makes him unpredictable, and his raw talent with Aeroquill is remarkable.”

  “Hmm.” Elder Feather poked Skyheart’s bruised shoulder with her walking stick, ignoring his yelp. “I know yet still one day he will need to learn patience and control, Tempest Form is too harsh on the body as you age you will understand! But yes, you’re right, he has indeed improved.” Her expression grew serious. “Which is fortunate, because his trial begins next week.”

  “What?!” Skyheart shot upright despite his injuries. “Next week? That quickly!” He was both excited and worried.

  “Plans change,” Elder Feather said gravely. “The situation has accelerated.”

  Elder Feather gestured toward the edge of the hilltop. “Skysong, walk with me.”

  Skysong’s eyes sharpened as she looked at Elder Feather. Something passed between them in that glance - an understanding of affairs, Skysong was a skywalker after all and knew of the troubles that they faced.

  As the two moved away toward the hillside edge, Skyheart slowly got to his feet, wincing as he brushed dust and grass from his clothes. Sky Child fluttered down to perch nearby, chirping sympathetically.

  “So the other tribes are making their moves?” Skysong asked quietly.

  Elder Feather nodded once, her weathered hands tightening on her staff. “All hundred tribes have begun selecting their representatives. We cannot delay, or risk being left behind in the search.”

  Skysong nodded, then walked back to Skyheart.

  “Well then,” she said brightly, “we’ll have to double the training effort.”

  She sai,d leaving Skyheart ignorant of the conversation she and Feather had.

  Despite her beautiful smile that could melt any man’s heart, Skyheart felt only dread. Every inch of his body hurt from just their regular training. Double intensity?

  “Chirp...” Even Sky Child sounded sympathetic.

  As Skysong helped him hobble toward the healing supplies, Skyheart wondered if surviving the trial might actually be easier than surviving the preparation for it.