“I’m ready,” Skyheart’s words echoed for a moment before Elder Feather took a hard look at him. Though it only lasted a moment, it was enough to take his measure.

  Elder Feather nodded her head in approval of what she saw. Skyheart seemed more mature now. Although saying that wasn’t much, considering the person in question. Still, she had every confidence that he, at the very least, now showed the proper etiquette.

  “Skyheart,” she began as she tapped her cane softly on the rock. “Begin by telling me: what is Quill? Also, how do our beliefs differ from the Church’s?”

  “Yes, Elder,” Skyheart said as he looked back up. “The tribes follow—”

  “Chirp!”

  “Huh?” Skyheart blinked at Sky Child, then his eyes widened slightly. “Oh, right. The tribes adhere to the ancient teachings that existed even before the Churches rose to power. We believe that Quill is the power of the world—a gift granted by the air, nature, and the beating heart of the world itself.”

  “In ancient times it was called magic. It was also the, um... primordial arts.” Skyheart noticed his grandmother’s eyes narrow slightly, and he felt as though he’d made a mistake. He took a breath, his eyes shifting for a moment as he gathered his thoughts, then snapped his fingers with a grin. “We call it magic, but the older races say it is the Laws of the Primordial Realm that manifest themselves in our world, changing our laws to match its own. They believe all magic and power originated from there, a realm of darkness and madness. That realm is said to be long gone now, part of the ancient world lost in time. However, the Netherquills claim the Abyss is the gateway to that realm, and through its unseen laws they gain their power.”

  “The tribes believe magic is the power left behind when the Primordial Realm was still accessible, and that magic has evolved into Quill—though some tribes still call it magic.”

  Skyheart paused for a moment as he organized his thoughts. A task he found truly difficult, as the subject bored him. “The churches believe the Primordial Realm was home to demons, and that magic was power granted by demonic entities. They say it was the Nine Gods who reshaped it into a refined power. That is the origin of Quill from their belief. A power purified from its demonic origins, a power that’s good and not evil, yet if misused can revert to its ancient form. The churches teach its followers that Quill allows them to rewrite the world’s fabric, to bend reality according to divine will. This is different from our own stories where magic was used for good more often than evil even before the gods.”

  “So while the churches believe Quill came from the Nine Gods, we of the tribes believe that Quill came from nature itself. We are born with Quill, and we use this power to communicate with nature, borrowing its mighty strength. Others are unable to do so. They are also children of nature, but not blessed by nature. So those who wield this ability are called Quill, just as the power we wield, or sometimes referred to as Quill scribes, users. Those who don’t have it are just normal mortals. Uh oh and um, yeah what else—that’s right, while we are Quill generally, we can be more descriptive by adding the type we are. Hence a Quill that uses water would be called the same as the power they wield: Aquaquill!”

  Elder Feather nodded. She hesitated to interrupt, knowing her grandson would forget what he was talking about if she did. A few times, she had to give a stern glance to the sky warriors that came along because they were bored. Those times when she glanced, any distraction they had began quickly died down.

  A silence began as Skyheart seemed lost in thought. He scratched his head and said unconfidently.

  “I am blessed with the power of wind hence I am Aeroquill the power I wield is called Aeroquill we are one and the same. The winds of nature have touched me and gifted me the ability to speak with them. Hence, I am part of nature. Quill is not only my power—it is who I am. I am not simply a mortal. I am Quill, and Quill is me.”

  “That’s very good,” Elder Feather nodded. “Although there is more, and you could have worded it better, you have exceeded my expectations and the amount you remembered is enough for us to continue.” She gestured toward the pool with her cane, Skychild perched on a tree branch, resisting the urge to interrupt Elder Feather by chirping in a comment that meant ‘you exceeded it because she didn’t expect much from you Skyheart!’.

  “Now then Skyheart, your mastery over Quill is simply a representation of mastery over yourself. All Quills are cousins, branches of the same tree. What one branch can do, another can echo in its own way. You shall now show me your understanding of this by mimicking what Aquaquill users are capable of. They can manipulate the water. Using your Aeroquill, you shall make the water and fish flow through the air for one minute without doing any harm. That is your first task.”

  Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  Skyheart gave a light nod and began to stare at the water in front of him. He took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. He pointed two fingers at the water, directly at a pair of fish swimming jubilantly without a care in the world. Skyheart then twisted his hand palm-upward and began to circle his other hand around the pointing one.

  A gentle breeze wrapped around the two fish and the water surrounding them, slowly lifting them from the stream. The breeze strengthened as the water floated higher and higher.

  Skyheart continued his controlled breathing, sweat beading on his brow. The water remained undisturbed by his wind, the fish continuing to swim within their floating prison. The sphere of water—about the size of a man’s torso—rose into the air. First a few inches, then a few feet.

  Elder Feather nodded with approval as she thought. His control has gotten much better than before. Though it’s still difficult for him, judging by his expression. But that’s to be expected. At the very least, he’s passing the minimum control needed to become either a Tempest Warrior or a Skywalker.

  The thought ended in a satisfied smirk.

  Her attention shifted from her inner thoughts back to Skyheart—only a moment had slipped by. Skyheart began shaping the ball of water into a miniature stream. At this point, his breathing became sharper. He slowly brought the water down, but when it reached one foot above the pool, his control slipped. The water dispersed and returned to the stream with a splash.

  “Huff... huff...” Skyheart’s breathing came in rasps. Control was not his specialty, and this had taken every ounce he had. If not for his training with the Tempest Form, which demanded more control than most beginners possessed but far from enough to be considered mastery, he wouldn’t have been able to accomplish even this much.

  Windsweeper nodded with an approving expression. Watching Skyheart perform such a feat reminded him of when he first became a Tempest Warrior—though his control had been better than Skyheart’s at the time, he’d also been a bit older when he began his trial.

  Behind him, Pel nodded along. Begotwind leaned toward ThirdMellow. “Do you know why he’s nodding?”

  A shrug was given before his lips parted. “When in doubt...” ThirdMellow said before he began to nod as well.

  Begotwind mimicked the shrug and joined in the nodding.

  Tap, tap, tap. Elder Feather’s cane sounded as she tapped the rock below her. “You passed the first test. Now it is time for the second. Come with me into the air.”

  Elder Feather began to rise, the winds gently carrying her upward. One could barely see the wind wrapped around her unless they focused intently.

  Skyheart sighed internally. I really wish I could catch a break. She keeps testing things I’m not good at, he mentally complained. Unlike his grandmother, who effortlessly floated with her hands wrapped around her cane and no visible effort, Skyheart had to wave his hands around his body. Wind visible to the naked eye—not as strong as a torrent, but still noticeable—swirled around him. He began to rise into the air, wind carrying him beneath his feet.

  “Whoa,” Begotwind said.

  “What’s so impressive? We can all glide in the air,” ThirdMellow said.

  Pel scoffed. “Are you a fool? There’s a difference between gliding on existing air currents and creating your own wind current to carry you. This is the difference between a skilled Aeroquill user and an expert one.”

  “I see,” ThirdMellow said.

  Begotwind looked to the Tempest Warrior, and the other two followed suit.

  Windsweeper sighed and lifted two fingers, wrapping wind around all four of them and propelling them into the air to continue watching the trial.

  “So cool!” ThirdMellow exclaimed.

  “Ok, I’m going to stop carrying you now,” Windsweeper said. “At the very least, the three of you should be able to keep yourselves hovering. If not, too bad—I’m not keeping this up. I’ve had a long day and I’m tired.”

  The wind beneath their feet disappeared. Windsweeper effortlessly sat cross-legged in the air while Begotwind and Pel began controlling their breathing, their hands making small circular motions as though treading water in the air. As for ThirdMellow, he began stepping in place while breathing as though on a morning jog, each step keeping him aloft.

  Skyheart stared at Elder Feather, waiting for her next test.

  Elder Feather looked at the clouds above, then at Skyheart.

  Skyheart trembled for a moment. He did not like the look in her eyes, but before he could think further, he saw her lips part.

  “Pluck one of the clouds,” she said.

  Skyheart’s eye twitched. This level of control was even more difficult than the water. No, not just more difficult, it was considered mastery of control.

  He stared at the cloud, then at his grandmother, then down at the ground far below. His shoulders sagged. “I’m sorry, that’s beyond me,” he admitted.

  “I see,” his grandmother nodded. “I was just curious. It was not part of the test.” Skyheart felt as though the twitching of his eye was a new habit he would gain from his grandmother’s teasing.

  She adjusted her grip on her cane. “Now then, for your actual test: I wish to see that you can maneuver in the air. I will begin throwing wind blades, and you will dodge.”