Crack!

  Oak met ash in a sharp collision, the impact sending vibrations through seasoned wood. The first staff swept low in an arc, seeking to trip its opponent, but the second twisted away, a foot pivoting while the weapon went up in a defensive spiral.

  Thwack!

  The attacking staff struck nothing but air its opposing staff spinning backwards, then immediately counter-attacking with a lightning-fast thrust. The first staff deflected with a smooth parry, a hand sliding on its wooden shaft to create leverage before attempting an overhead strike.

  Crack! Crack!

  Wood rang against wood in rapid succession now as both staffs blurred through their exchange, the first spinning in a high block, the second sweeping low, both weapons deflecting and striking in perfect rhythm. Neither staff committed fully to any single attack, instead flowing from one technique to the next.

  The first staff pulled back, preparing for a powerful overhead blow, while the second dropped toward the ground, attempting to hook an ankle. The overhead strike came down just as the sweep connected—one staff finding its mark while the other whistled through empty air.

  Thud!

  One staff clattered to the ground. The victorious staff spun in a quick flourish before its tip came to rest, pointing at the fallen opponent.

  “Better,” came the acknowledgment from a man whose robes bore the swirling vortex symbol of the Tempest Warriors. “But your recovery was sloppy. In a real fight, that stumble would have cost you more than just your weapon. But still you have improved greatly. I suppose the clash with Validus and his people a little over a year ago did you some good since you have been taking your training more seriously since then.”

  Skyheart pushed himself up from where he’d fallen, his hair was longer now having grown after a year it reached his shoulders, it was also damp with sweat and sticking to his forehead as he moved to retrieve his staff.

  “Chirp.” Sky Child spoke from its high branched perch.

  “Yeah, yeah, I know,” Skyheart responded, wiping sweat from his brow.

  “Hmm? What’s that mischievous bird of yours saying now?” the Tempest Warrior asked, leaning on his staff.

  “Sky Child is asking me how will I ever be ready for the Skywalker trial if I keep getting my ass handed to me every time we train.” Skyheart shrugged as he retrieved his fallen staff.

  “Haha! Don’t worry about it. You’re doing great! I didn’t pass my trial until I was twenty-two. The training is meant to prepare you, but trust me, you’ll gain even more skills and mastery during your trial. It’s all part of the journey.”

  Windsweeper grinned and gave him a friendly pat on the shoulder. “As for getting your ass handed to you, that’s to be expected. Just because you’re talented doesn’t mean you can win against a near fifteen-year Tempest Warrior veteran. I’m going to be thirty-eight in a few moons—at least wait until you’re in your twenties to beat me, junior brother! Then again, Skywalkers are the best of the best, so... aim for early twenties.” He winked.

  “Yes, Senior Brother Windsweeper,” Skyheart said with a respectful bow.

  “By the way, where is everyone else? I haven’t seen our brothers and sisters today. We might be smaller than the mainland, but we’re still nearly a hundred strong, so... where is everyone?”

  Windsweeper put a hand on his chin in thought. “Well, all the Sky Warriors are helping set up the new settlement half a day away. The Tempest Warriors are on rotation there as well. As for the Skywalkers, they’re visiting other tribes and keeping a watchful eye on Validus’s movements. As for the specifics, I can’t tell you—it’s Skywalker business, so even I don’t know the details. But you’ll probably learn more once your trial starts.”

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  “Chirp chirp,” Sky Child interjected from above.

  “Oh yeah, thanks for the reminder!” Skyheart turned back to Windsweeper. “So can you tell me anything about the trials? I heard that the Skywalker and Tempest Warrior trials have some similarities.”

  “Ah, well, everything is pretty much the same except for the task given at the end, so sure,” Windsweeper nodded.

  “Ok, so listen, the trial will have three main parts,” Windsweeper began, sitting on a nearby rock with three fingers raised. He closed two fingers, leaving one pointed high as he continued, “First, you need your teachers to vouch for both your martial skills and your mastery of Aeroquill. Elder Feather will handle the Quill assessment, while I’ll speak for your combat abilities.” He gestured with his staff. “Honestly, you’re nearly ready for that part now. I’d like to go through a few more sessions but if we needed to rush your trial forward I would give the ok, though I would be a bit hesitant, like I said I would be more comfortable after some more sessions maybe a month’s worth.”

  “That’s a few?” Skyheart asked, eyebrows raised. To which the tempest warrior laughed before continuing.

  “Once the elders approve you, that’s when the spirit comes in, you will journey to the Cloud Mountains. Beware, for the winds there are powerful, and all Aeroquill tribes must climb there for their elites.” Windsweeper looked to the sky in reminiscence. “There, you must seek out Ureal, the ancient wind spirit who dwells among the peaks. She’s the one who grants the blessing of Aeroquill to all who would become Skywalkers.”

  “What kind of blessing?” Skyheart asked, leaning forward with interest.

  Windsweeper paused for a moment, his eyes closed as he prepared to reveal the grand secret.

  “You see…” The tempest warrior paused once more. Skyheart and Sky Child both watching, waiting, ready for the grand secret.

  “Actually I have no idea what the blessing does.” he opened his eyes and shrugged.

  “What do you mean!” Skyheart and Sky Child both nearly fell at the ridiculous suspense.

  “Haha well the blessing is… unique I suppose, for me I was struggling with purpose and questions of my life. But when I met Ureal those questions, uncertainties just disappeared. For another I know she had trouble controlling her wind currents after meeting Ureal. It just clicked for her, she found the answer to her struggles, so she trained and fixed it.”

  “I see, hmm. And after that?” Skyheart leaned on his staff while asking.

  “Then comes the real test—your task. The tribe will assign you a mission that could take anywhere from one to three years to complete. It’s designed to prove you can handle the responsibilities of a true Skywalker.” His expression grew serious. “Many never return from this final trial. Not because they die, but because they discover the world is far larger and more dangerous than they ever imagined, they end up drawn to it and get lost in it.”

  “What was yours? I mean the tempest trial?” Skyheart asked.

  “Mine? I had to face a Skyfallen, one of our brethren who abused his powers and caused a great tragedy.” Windsweeper looked down, saddened.

  “Skyfallen, Skywalkers who break their vows and fall from their original purpose…” Skyheart sighed.

  Skyheart absorbed the weight of Windsweeper’s words, the reality of what lay ahead settling over him. Possible years away from home, facing unknown dangers, with the possibility of never returning—or worse.

  “Chirp chirp,” Sky Child offered from its perch, the sound somehow comforting in the sudden quiet.

  “Thanks, Sky Child,” he murmured, then looked back at Windsweeper. “How long do I have before the trial begins?”

  “That depends on when Elder Feather feels you’re ready for the Quill assessment,” Windsweeper said, standing and brushing dust from his robes. “Your martial skills are nearly there, but Aeroquill mastery...” He shrugged. “That’s between you and your grandmother. So I really can’t tell you.”

  “Speaking of which,” Windsweeper continued with a knowing smile, “didn’t she summon you for additional training sessions? “

  Skyheart sighed. The extra sessions would be the death of him. “She did mention something about that.”

  “Well then, junior brother, I suggest you don’t keep Elder Feather waiting. You know how she gets when people are late.” Windsweeper chuckled, already heading toward the training yard’s exit. “Same time tomorrow for combat practice.”

  “Yes,” Skyheart acknowledged, watching his teacher disappear among the trees.

  He stood alone, Sky Child circling overhead in lazy spirals. With a deep breath, he shouldered his staff and began walking toward his grandmother’s tent.