“Again!” Rico shouted.

  Skye stood, drenched in sweat, and his chest ached terribly. He planted his feet firmly, straightening his back, and punching with both fists. A stream of wind shot out from each arm, spiraling around each other as they streaked across the meadow. They reached the forest’s edge, rattling the branches of the nearest tree.

  “Again!” Rico yelled.

  They’d been at this for hours, and the best Skye had managed were the two streams. It wasn’t enough to release them; he had to constantly reinforce and guide their trajectory.

  He fired off another attempt, then doubled over, hands on his knees, gasping for air. “How am I supposed to increase the number of streams? I can barely control the one.”

  “You have to mentally link the streams to parts of your body: hands, legs, fingers, even your head or chest,” Rico explained. “It’s the easiest way to learn multi-flow channeling. Once you master that, you can use a single part to control multiple streams, like the master. He can command hundreds with just one hand.”

  Skye groaned and threw himself onto the grass. “I need a break.” He sighed. “And food.”

  “I smell Luccello’s cooking from the kitchen!” Rico said. “I’ll go help him. Rest here. I’ll come get you when lunch is ready.” With that, Rico dashed off.

  Skye lay still for a moment, then stood up, restless. A familiar pressure filled his mind, like being caught in a suffocating crowd, jostled around against his will. He paced around, unable to stand still. Ever since acquiring the bell, he’d used it regularly to sneak and steal whatever he needed. Now, days without ringing it had left him with a pounding headache.

  Clenching his fists, he thrust his arms forward, one hand above the other, and released a steady stream of wind. Without the momentum of a punching motion, spiraling the streams proved difficult, so he kept them straight. Despite the growing numbness in his fingers, he kept on blasting, feeling his reserves drain by the second.

  He wished he could find a way to release the Psycho fantasia accumulated in his head. If it were possible, he’d crack his skull open, sift through his brain matter for the stupid bell, and throw it away.

  Coals, he’d do it even if it wasn’t possible.

  “And let everyone die? How typical of you,” Redeyes said.

  Frustrated, Skye amplified the winds so hard the recoil launched him backward, flipping through the air before he slammed into the ground and rolled to a stop. Groaning, he pushed himself up, arms trembling like wet noodles. Blood and drool dripped from his mouth. He’d busted a lip.

  “Are you seriously trying that head-cracking idea?” Redeyes asked, amused.

  “Shut up,” Skye hissed, lying on his back. The Void-spawned pyroxos had been nagging him all day, and he could only ignore him as much. At the forest’s edge, a tree shook violently, one of its branches snapped, its leaves scattered in the wind.

  “A faster way would be to aim your hands downward, throw yourself up, and let gravity do the rest,” Redeyes suggested.

  Skye sat up, eyes narrowing. “What did you say?”

  Redeyes looked at him sideways. “You could fly, then fall to your death… Wait, are you actually considering this?”

  “Not the dying part,” Skye said, gazing up at the blue sky. “I can fly.”

  He hadn’t tried flying since his first day. Rico had blamed the astrum, but it was Skye’s inexperience and depleted reserves that failed him. Now, he felt ready.

  The Avyhandouse were over a hundred miles away, drenched in Nemental’s blue radiance. The journey to their base would take four or five days on foot, assuming he didn’t get lost or hunted by elexii. A bird, however, could cover the distance in hours, avoiding all the dangers in the forest. Aeroxii were a threat to anyone flying too long above the treetops. Against his bell, they weren’t a source of concern.

  “Can you fly?” Redeyes asked.

  Skye aimed his fists downwards, taking a deep breath. “Only one way to find out.”

  With a mighty blast, he propelled himself over fifty feet into the air. Even though he expected the recoil this time, his arms still throbbed. They flailed beside him, numb as if he’d been sleeping on them throughout the night. For two seconds, he continued rising through the rushing winds after he’d stopped channeling, then hung in the air for a single weightless heartbeat.

  He was high.

  The towering treehouse still loomed above, but most of the forest’s birds and squirrels would have to crane their necks to see him. Beyond the treetops, the horizon stretched wide. The white peaks of distant mountains stood like a crowd of ancient giants, the tallest wore a hat of fluffy clouds.

  Gorgeous.

  Gravity remembered him at last, and he plummeted fast, a startled shriek tearing from his lips. At the last second, with strength returning to his arms, he channeled a powerful gust beneath him, softening his fall. His ankles sent a spark of electricity through his spine when he slammed down, and so he collapsed, breathing hard.

  He lay on the ground, grinning like a fool. “I did it,” he said between gasps. “I flew!”

  “Remember when Luccello carried you?” Redeyes interjected. “That was flying. He was in control, stayed airborne as long as he wanted, went wherever he pleased. You’re just a toad who jumped a little high.”

  Skye shot to his feet. “You’re right. I have to try again.”

  Closing his eyes, he aimed his fists downward and focused harder. Channeling through his iris, he summoned two twisting streams of wind. They flattened the grass around him and sent his hair and clothes whipping wildly, but they weren’t strong enough to lift him. Slowly, gradually, he poured more energy into them, feeling the strain as he rose off the ground, fighting to keep his balance.

  This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.

  Higher and higher he went, and despite his aching body he didn’t stop channeling. Not when he could see the top of the treehouse beneath him. Not when the forest’s trees blended into a vast green sea. And not when the whole world unfolded before him.

  His arms ached, his head throbbed, and cold winds bit at his skin, but none of it mattered. He was on top of the world.

  He’d risen higher than when Luccello had carried him, and he could glimpse green valleys beyond the mountains. He wondered whether the thin blue line in the northwest was the ocean or the edge of the horizon.

  Turning in midair, he traced the Cerulean River to where it spilled into Liarna Lake. Red-tipped mountains stood to the east, their peaks alien and uncharted on any map in Troqua. Beyond them, an enormous tree stretched into the sky, its colossal size defying comprehension.

  Has anyone ever been blessed enough to see this before?

  He wanted to travel everywhere all at once. The Avyhandouse were his immediate goal, but he longed to explore every secret this world held. Were there people living atop the red mountains? Was there a city near that immense tree? What lay beyond them?

  “It’s freezing here,” Redeyes complained, floating beside him. He hugged himself against the chill winds, his fires flickering violently.

  Skye shivered too, but he didn’t care. He wanted to stay just a little longer. He knew it was dangerous to remain high for too long, but he didn’t spy any aeroxii around.

  A dangerous idea manifested. He could leave now and cross over the mountains.

  It was tempting. This was why he’d become a windrider in the first place. To reach Kastrala and save his friends. To live his dream of becoming an adventurer. Beyond the river, Solarite’s buildings hid among the trees, while the treehouse had vanished into the grass below.

  “Not yet,” Skye said at last. “I want to train for a bit longer. Plus, I need to say thanks and goodbye before I use the curse.”

  A large cloud passed overhead, blotting out the sun. The air grew colder, and Skye trembled. It was time to go down.

  “Skyyyyeeee!”

  The shout came from below. Rico flew fast, propelled by a swirling tornado beneath him. His speed was incredible, and Skye briefly wondered how long it would take him to reach the mountains at that pace.

  “Behind you!” Rico yelled. Though distant, his voice carried with unnatural force, likely amplified through channeling.

  Frowning, Skye turned and saw only the cloud. It descended rapidly, its pristine white darkening to menacing gray, then inky black. The winds weren’t strong, yet the cloud moved steadily, heading straight toward him.

  “FLYYYYYY!” Rico screamed.

  Skye’s mind froze when he saw the descending cloud unfold like the maw of a gaping beast. Many authors debated whether ‘storm’ was an element with its own strain, instead of many. Yet that discussion was now sealed as he stared down a charging thyelloxos.

  The cloud-clad creature cascaded like an angel of death, leaving Skye shocked, choking for a breath. Its black form expanded like a swelling flood, and lightning coursed through its body like surging blood. Skye retreated stiffly, his eyes wide, his acumen shackled by panic and fear. Foolishly, he searched the air for a place to hide, wary that if he didn’t escape soon, he’d meet his end up here.

  Thunder roared around as he stopped channeling and fell. Violent torrents surged, sucking him higher into their storming hell. The wrathful thyelloxos gave him a taste of its might, flipping, and rolling, and throwing him around like a cordless kite. In the darkness he screamed as the flurries fought to tear him apart. And through the lightning, he glimpsed the giant dragon’s skull glowing at its heart. It brought him close, hanging upside down, air pressure crushing him with a colossal weight. Somehow, the fleshless face wore a loathing frown, the eye sockets empty of all but hate.

  As he screamed, he saw a lightning bolt spell his doom, and tasted bitter misery and regret. A winged figure flew hurriedly through the gloom, blocking the fatal strike with its feathery chest.

  “RICOOO!” Skye screamed as the smoking body of his friend fell limply through the dark cloud.

  “No!” Skye roared. He flailed against the wind, channeling desperate bursts of air to propel himself toward Rico. But the thyelloxos wasn’t finished. Vicious gusts pinned him near its glowing skull, like a cat toying with a cockroach.

  “Let go!” he hissed through gritted teeth, fighting to fly after his friend.

  “He’s already dead, you fool!” Redeyes said, floating beside him. “Worry about your sorry self.”

  “SHUT UP!” Skye screamed. Rico couldn’t be dead. He wouldn’t accept it.

  He channeled again, but his reserves had run dry after all his failed attempts. Being so close to the monster, he resorted to punching its ugly skull with his fists, cursing all the while.

  The lower jaw—full of sharp teeth, each larger than Skye—dangled loosely in the wind while thunder cracked a manic cackle. Blood flew into Skye’s face and mouth as he ruined his knuckles, but he didn’t stop. Even when his fists screamed in pain through the numbness, he kept on hitting the hard bone.

  “You ungrateful sack of horse manure! Think! Come up with a plan! Rico didn’t die so you could throw a tantrum!” Redeyes barked.

  Skye screamed in anger, his mind racing for a solution. He was a windrider, trained by Master Ku—there had to be a way to survive this. Closing his eyes, he forced himself to calm down, breathing deeply, listening to the song of his iris as it resonated with the tempest around him. A thought struck him, and his eyes snapped open.

  If he could charge through falling, he should be able to charge in a storm.

  He fully surrendered to the winds, focusing on drawing the fantasia into his chest. His reserves flared. Curling into a ball, he kicked and punched in unison, releasing a burst of energy that launched him sideways. He shot through the black cloud, pelted by water, and emerged into the open blue sky.

  This time, he didn’t rely on gravity. Repeating the maneuver, he hurled himself downward, wind screaming past him as he picked up speed. A flicker of fear gnawed at him; if he couldn’t slow down, he’d smash against the ground soon.

  The thyelloxos veered toward him, thundering madly, slowing his descent with swirling torrents, and unleashing a barrage of lightning. One bolt, thick as a tree trunk, snaked directly toward him.

  Something slammed into his side, knocking the air from his lungs. Master Ku’s arm wrapped tightly around his waist as they spun mid-air. The master caught the lightning bolt with his bare foot, twisted sharply, and launched it back at the thyelloxos, magnified.

  The strike carved through the creature’s form, scattering the black cloud with an explosive roar. Parts of the thyelloxos’ gargantuan skull shattered, fragments disintegrating into ash. The storm howled, its winds sounding mournful, its clouds turning pale white. Flying skyward, it fled, retreating beyond sight.

  “Are you hurt?” the master shouted, visibly strained.

  “I… I’m fine. But Rico…” Skye’s voice faltered as he caught sight of his friend.

  Rico’s limp body dangled in the master’s other arm. A blanket of crimson and violet plants wrapped around the parrot’s torso, a green, tube-like stem extending through his beak and down his throat. Over his chest, where the lightning struck, an indigo spongy growth pulsed rhythmically like a beating heart.

  Relief swept through Skye when Rico groaned faintly and his eyes twitched.

  “You’ll have to fly,” Master Ku said abruptly, releasing Skye.

  Surprised, Skye spun and floundered before launching four streams of wind from his limbs, stabilizing his descent.

  Master Ku descended more gracefully, six colorful butterfly wings fluttering on the back of his shell where his cane was tied. Taut fuchsia roots held Rico close to his body as the master gestured precisely, his fingers tracing lines over the injured bird. Sweat beaded on his forehead, and his expression tightened with effort.

  Skye landed with a thud and was back on his feet within a second, running toward the master and Rico. “I’m sorry!” he cried, not knowing how to help. “I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean for—he saved me. He—”

  The master didn’t look at him. His focus remained on Rico, waving a steady hand over his chest. Crimson blood trickled through the green tube, staining the grass below.

  “What happened?!” Luccello’s voice rang out as he flew over.

  “Crystalline Iggy’s. Draconis Trifasciata. Mellelly Cacti jelly. Three Ephemeral Cones, green, unhardened. Now!” Master Ku barked the required ingredients as he carried Rico toward the treehouse.

  Without a word, Luccello darted to the garden, leaving Skye alone, staring at the blood-soaked grass.

  ?????Days until Green Eve: 13?????