The Mountain Breathes

  Winds howled as they slammed into Skye. He screamed and floundered, his fingers clawing at empty air as he plummeted like a chick expelled too early from its nest. The ground rushed up to meet him, ready to crush him like a rat under a stonebear’s paw. Tears stung his eyes, whipped away by the biting wind. Flying had always been his dream, but he’d imagined he’d learn how to land first.

  Too fast, too fast, I’m going to smash and die!

  “At least it’d be painless,” Redeyes said, falling upside down beside him, hands tucked behind his head.

  “Focus on your breathing,” Luccello shouted, diving beside Skye. “Feel the wind on your skin. Let the fantasia flow into you.”

  Skye’s only response was a frantic, wordless scream.

  “We will catch you before you crash. Don’t worry!” Rico encouraged from the other side.

  “Relax your muscles. Empty your mind,” Luccello instructed.

  Skye flailed wildly. His mind would be empty soon enough once his skull cracked open.

  “Imagine you are in a peaceful place,” Rico said.

  Skye closed his eyes, but the list of peaceful places that could kill him in less than two minutes was unhelpfully short.

  “Reject your fears and focus only on your breathing,” Luccello insisted.

  That was a simple thing to ask when the speaker had wings.

  “Catch me!” Skye begged as the meadow below loomed close.

  Seconds from slamming into the ground at a hundred miles per hour, large talons wrapped around his torso, snatching him out of the air. He gasped, lungs burning, as Rico set him down on blessed solid earth. His legs buckled, and he needed a moment to stop screaming and panting.

  “You’ve wasted a valuable opportunity,” Luccello said, perched atop a thin pole of golden light. “Charging is as much a mental and spiritual endeavor as it is physical. Instead of focusing on your breathing, you screeched like a mad chicken.”

  Skye’s face burned, his heart pounded like a war drum. Metallic blood coated his tongue from where he’d bitten his lip. “What in the void is wrong with you?” he shouted, glaring at the bird-brained, arrogant ruff. “You nearly killed me!”

  Redeyes burst into laughter, rolling on the ground. “That was hilarious! You should see your face!“

  “Compose yourself!” Luccello snapped, feathers bristling. “This behavior is unbecoming of a student of Master Ku. Trust your tutors. We’d never let you come to harm. We caught you in time, like we promised, didn’t we?”

  “How am I supposed to focus on anything when all I could think about was me becoming a bloody pancake?”

  Skye glared at him. “I’ve never seen anyone in Troqua charging like this. What sort of incompetent tutor are you?”

  Luccello puffed his chest angrily, but he only looked as threatening as a large ball of cotton. “I conceded to let you train here, not to be insulted, boy. The only harm you suffered was because of your doubts.”

  Master Ku arrived, dragging his feet in a rush, leaning heavily on his cane. “What’s the issue, Luccello?”

  “He dropped me from hundreds of feet in the air without warning!” Skye burst out, pointing an accusatory finger.

  “The process was fully explained beforehand,” Luccello countered calmly. “I informed him we would charge through freefall and emphasized the importance of focusing on his breathing. Rico and I repeatedly assured him he was in no danger and that we’d catch him in time. He chose to panic.”

  Skye wanted to choke the little lying weasel. “You threw me and then you explained!” he yelled, fists trembling.

  Luccello opened his beak to argue, but Master Ku raised a hand. “That’s enough. What’s done is done. Next time, Luccello, ensure you have full consent before beginning a new stage of training. If a student refuses their assigned program, their training will be terminated.”

  Luccello kept his glare at Skye, but nodded. “Yes, master.”

  Turning to Skye, the master softened his tone. “When a birdling leaps from its nest for the first time, it has no experience flying. Yet it must find the courage to flap its wings and try. The first trial for a windrider is always terrifying, but it is vital. Freefall is the fastest way to charge a few thousand auroras and begin casting spells. It also helps ease the fear of flying. Tell me, how do you feel?”

  Skye put a trembling hand on his chest, where his heart refused to calm. A numbness had snuck through his limbs, and his head felt light. He wasn’t sure if it was a symptom of Aero fantasia contamination or lingering shock from the fall. “I’m not sure,” he admitted.

  Glancing at the back of his hand, he was relieved to see the silver iris still embedded there, safe and intact. Its soft, melodic song returned to his awareness after being forgotten during the chaos. “How am I supposed to feel?”

  “Maybe he didn’t charge enough auroras,” Rico said. “Should we go again?”

  Skye backed away in horror. “No, please no!”

  “Yes, please yes,” Redeyes shouted in glee. “Do it again, coward!”

  “Do your fingertips tingle?” Master Ku asked. “Do you feel turbulence in your chest? A slight dizziness, perhaps?”

  Skye’s hands shook violently. He clenched them and inhaled deeply, trying to steady himself. “Yes, yes, and yes.”

  Master Ku nodded with a smile. “Then you’ve accumulated enough fantasia for this training session. Come, let’s test the fruits of your efforts. Aren’t you excited for your first Aero channeling?”

  Skye blinked in shock. “I’ll channel now?” he asked, finding the strength to smile again.

  Master Ku smiled back and twisted the top of his cane, extracting a short wooden wand. Discarding the cane, he shifted into a relaxed pose, his arms hanging loosely at his sides. He took a deep breath, swayed as if about to topple, then snapped his arm in a backhanded motion, launching a gust of wind. It slammed into Skye, pushing him several steps back.

  Skye shielded his face with his arms as the gale roared around him. When it finally subsided, he wiped his watery eyes. “I have to do that?”

  “You can do that. Now I will teach you how,” Master Ku replied. “Stand beside me.”

  Skye scrambled to his side, awkwardly mimicking the master’s stance.

  “What are the problems of this Dunya to a windrider?” Master Ku asked, taking another long breath. Skye followed his lead.

  “Nothing,” Ku answered himself. “A windrider does not concern themselves with the world’s troubles. They are a leaf in the storm, dancing with the current.”

  He relaxed his muscles—shoulders slumping, head drooping, knees slightly bent. A soft breeze stirred, so gentle it barely tousled Skye’s hair, yet it somehow pushed the towering master aside.

  Skye instinctively stepped forward to help, but Master Ku found his footing with a sway, like a reed in the wind. “Why does a windrider trust the winds with their existence?” he asked, moving rhythmically with the air. “Because they understand it sustains them, empowers them. Wind cannot drown you, burn you, or crush you. That is why we freely welcome it, all the way to our heart’s doorstep.”

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  Skye mimicked the master’s deep breaths, exhaling with long, slow sighs. The exercise reminded him of Dr. Stenser’s relaxation techniques, making it easy to follow.

  “You reckon this’ll help when the elexii attack?” Redeyes interrupted, stepping between him and the master. “They’re monsters, not birthday candles!”

  Shut up! Skye thought furiously, craning his neck to watch Master Ku’s movements.

  “When the pyroxii ravage the city, will you fan their flames?”

  Leave me alone!

  Standing straight, Master Ku began kneading an invisible ball in his hands. “What sets windriders apart from other channelers? A windrider does not control their element. Instead, they convince it that their will is its own and then let it control them.”

  His movements grew faster, more deliberate, and forceful. As Skye copied the circular motions, he felt the air concentrate around him. Currents swirled in every direction, as if waiting for his whim to know which way they’d blow. Fantasia surged through his chest, ready to be unleashed. The iris’s song in his mind reached a crescendo, and he couldn’t help but grin.

  “When the windrider and the wind align in purpose…” The master’s hands blurred. “They strike!”

  With a sharp punch, Master Ku released a concentrated gale that bent the distant trees at the edge of the meadow.

  Stuck between awe and doubt, Skye hesitated. How was he supposed to accomplish something this astonishing? Never mind the master, he doubted he’d ever match Ficar or any of the skilled windriders back in Troqua. Why had he ever thought he could succeed as a windrider?

  “Because you’re a fool,” Redeyes sneered. Skye faltered, his hands slowing, letting the winds he’d gathered dissipate. “You’ll mess this up like you mess everything else.”

  “Now it’s your turn,” Master Ku said.

  Skye could only stare at the distant swaying trees.

  “Do not compare yourself to me,” the master said firmly. “The only person you need to overcome is yourself.”

  “You can do it!” Rico cheered, jumping up and down.

  Even Luccello nodded from his perch. “Give it your best shot.”

  Breathing faster, Skye closed his eyes and resumed the circular motions. I can do this, he told himself, quickening his pace. Around him, the winds picked up, though he couldn’t tell if they obeyed him or were merely a natural breeze. I don’t care what anyone thinks. I will become a windrider.

  I am a windrider.

  The winds became a flurry, tousling his hair and tugging at his clothes. This is nothing compared to what I’ll achieve in the future. This is simply my first step.

  He drew his hands back, and the world calmed for a heartbeat. The leaves of the great treehouse stilled in anticipation. The clouds—scattered across the vast blue sky—paused to witness this moment. Even a butterfly standing atop a flower far behind turned to watch.

  The iris sang.

  With a decisive punch, the winds around Skye exploded outward like a shooting cannon with a loud whoosh. It didn’t reach the trees like the master’s gale, but it tore a line through the dirt, ripping out grass and carving a shallow trench.

  “I did it,” Skye mumbled in disbelief. “I actually did it!” He leaped into the air, shouting with joy. Rico joined him, yipping and cheering.

  “Congratulations,” Master Ku said with a smile. “You’re a windrider now.”

  As Skye bounced higher, a heavy weight seemed to lift from his shoulders. He remembered the shame of disappointing Dr. Stenser by running into the Deeps, the terrible sensation of uselessness when he lost his team, and the long, lonely nights of hiding, stealing food, and barely surviving. They all seemed insignificant now, a past someone else had lived. Even the dark memories of the dungeon and his skeletal companions blurred like a forgotten nightmare. For so long, he’d believed himself weak and worthless, that he was destined to fail.

  And now, he was a channeler.

  He stopped jumping and wiped at his eyes, hiding his tears.

  “What’s wrong?” Rico asked.

  “Nothing,” Skye replied, his voice thick. “Something got in my eye.”

  “Don’t let it, dummy! You’re a windrider now; blow it away.”

  Skye laughed with Rico. “I’m a windrider!” he shouted, throwing his arms in the air.

  From his perch, Luccello cleared his throat. “That’s it? One little punch and you’re done? Do it again, show the winds their new master.”

  For the rest of the morning, Skye practiced his wind punches, kicks, and even some head-butts too.

  **********

  As the sun climbed high, Skye took a short break for lunch before resuming his training.

  From the forest, thousands of leaves danced on the master’s swirling squalls, gathering to spin around his arms, legs, and torso, giving the winds a visible form. Unlike the chaotic bursts Skye had summoned, these currents wove together with precision, forming a tapestry of willful nature with the master at its center.

  Green leaves mixed with red, purple, and yellow ones, spinning in a wide sphere as Master Ku tilted and spun. And when he thrust his arms forward, his fingers shaped like a bird, the leaves merged into the form of a giant, colorful hawk. Each feather was distinct, its talons were sharp, and even its eyes seemed alive, radiating malice as it soared against the bright blue sky.

  It was a breathtaking display of control, and impossibly difficult.

  “How long until I can do that?” Skye wondered aloud.

  “Long,” Luccello said, landing lightly on Skye’s head. “Mass control, target sensitivity, high-low dexterity, and multi-flow channeling. You’d need years to master enough aspects of channeling to emulate the master. With a year of dedication, you might manage a crude imitation, but it’ll never measure up to the original.”

  “A year?!” Skye groaned.

  “Stop trying to dampen his spirit, Luccello,” Rico complained. “It is complex, but the basics aren’t that hard.”

  “I’m not dampening anything; I’m telling the truth of it,” Luccello replied. “He’s got much to learn, and he has to train to get better.”

  “Catch,” Master Ku interrupted, shooting a green stream of leaves toward Skye.

  Luccello leaped clear as the leaves scattered in Skye’s direction. Skye dashed about, trying to snatch them out of the air. He managed to grab eight before he noticed Rico was laughing.

  “He meant catch using wind, you dummy, not your hands,” Rico said between giggles.

  “Oh,” Skye intoned, noticing the scowl on Luccello’s face. Feeling stupid, he released the leaves.

  The master approached, extending his palm. Five elm leaves hovered above it, stacked vertically like a miniature, wall-less tower. They bobbed gently, like the chest of a sleeping toddler. “This will be your trial,” he said. “Only when you achieve this level of control will you be ready to complete your journey.”

  The challenge seemed simple enough, but Skye knew looks could be deceiving. So far, he could only summon torrents of wind. He didn’t know what skills were required to levitate something this delicate. Each leaf was a different size, yet they hovered in rhythm as if connected, unaffected by the natural breeze.

  “Take it in steps,” Master Ku said, sending a single leaf floating toward Skye. “Start with one.”

  Skye reached instinctively to grab it, then stopped himself, channeling instead. He waved upward, hoping to lift it, but his aim was off, and it shot sideways, tumbling across the meadow.

  “Coals!” Skye shouted, then winced and apologized for cursing.

  “So far, you’ve learned how to condense and shoot bursts of wind,” Master Ku started. “That’s but one of many motions you’ll need to succeed in this test.” He gestured at the wayward leaf, and it drifted back to his palm as if drawn by invisible strings. “You must learn to pull and steer, to sense the winds around you, calm them, redirect them, and control their pressure. Precision, not force, is the key.”

  “How am I supposed to do all that?” Skye asked as the master sent the leaf back toward him.

  “Practice,” the master replied. “Experiment. Try different motions until you find what works.”

  Skye waved at the leaf, trying to summon it like the master had, but he only shot it farther away. He stomped in frustration. Time wasn’t on his side, and this kind of trial-and-error could take weeks. He still needed to reach Kastrala and maybe other cities to rally help, then return, all before Green Eve.

  “Guessing is a waste of time!” he complained. “I don’t have the luxury of floundering and failing. You have to teach me what I need to do exactly.”

  Once more, the master retrieved the leaf with a flick of a finger. “When channeling, every twitch of your muscles affects the winds around you.” The leaf weaved effortlessly between his fingers, then floated toward Skye. “I cannot teach you how to channel, just as I cannot teach you how to taste, or smell, or see. You must try the motions yourself.”

  Skye attempted to catch the leaf again, only to send it tumbling. Over and over, he channeled, chasing it across the meadow until he was panting and drenched in sweat. Starved for directions, he asked the master, even begged, but the only response he got was “Keep trying.”

  “This is a waste of time,” Redeyes said. “If I were you, I’d ditch this old fool and find a real teacher.”

  “God above, lad,” Luccello said. “What are you frowning for? Did you expect the master would pour knowledge into your head? If you want to improve, you’ve got to work for it!”

  “I understand, but…” Skye started. “Can’t you give me some hints? Or break the challenge into smaller steps?” He trailed off, not knowing how to explain his frustration.

  “A good tutor doesn’t hand out answers; they teach their students how to learn,” Master Ku said. “Yes, there are steps to mastery, but I want you to find them on your own. To stumble, fall, and rise again. To take the wrong turns and search until you find the route to success. I will guide you when you stray, but the journey is yours to take.” For the fifteenth time, he launched the elm leaf toward Skye. “Are you up for the trial, or is it beyond you?”

  Fire lit in Skye’s chest at the challenge. Stepping forward, he caught the leaf between two gusts of wind, one from each hand, steadying it for a fleeting moment. “I’ll do it,” he declared, adjusting the streams, trying to gauge the leaf’s weight and how much power he’d need to keep it afloat in place.

  Hands clasped behind his shell, the master paced around him. “What is the purpose of this task?”

  “To learn fine control over my powers,” Skye said, focused on the leaf.

  “What is your plan to achieve this purpose?”

  “I’ll adjust my strength until it stays still.”

  “Is that the best approach? Must you start with something so light and vulnerable to a breeze?”

  Skye paused, turning to the master. “What should I use then?”

  The old bear-tortoise shrugged.

  Skye let the leaf drift away and picked up a smooth, blueish pebble, feeling its weight in his hand, its smooth texture. He glanced at the master for confirmation, but the old leathery face was stiff as tree bark. Sighing, he tossed it into the air and punched at it with bursts of wind, testing different intensities to keep it aloft.

  “Did you see me jab the leaves?” Master Ku asked.

  “No, you… coiled the winds around your arms.”

  Seeing the master nod, Skye placed the pebble in his palm and channeled, creating a spinning stream around his hand like an airy gauntlet. The wind was too thick and violent, ending in uncontrolled blasts at his fingertips that sent the pebble flying. Retrieving it, he sat on the grass, flexed his arms, then focused on fine-tuning the airy threads.

  ?????Days until Green Eve: 19?????