The Fisherman class had taken a turn for the intense. This was supposed to be another sparring session, another chance to practice our positions in the Tower. But it had quickly turned into something far more personal.
Endorsi and Anaak—two Jahad Princesses with an unmistakable rivalry—were locked in a duel that none of us Regulars could ignore. We all stood on our respective pillars, watching the drama unfold in front of us. The tension between them was palpable, a sharp contrast to the usual discipline of the Position Tests.
Our instructor, a bubbly woman but didn't tolerate much nonsense, had allowed the fight to begin, though I got the sense she anticipated it would go this far.
From the start, it was clear Endorsi had the upper hand, taunting Anaak with every dodge, every step that kept her just out of reach. Her movements were graceful, precise. Anaak, meanwhile, charged after her with raw, explosive power, enhancing her speed with shinsu. They darted from pillar to pillar, their attacks pushing other Fishermen aside as they battled, their rivalry consuming everything else.
I remained on my own pillar, watching closely. As a Fisherman in training, I needed to observe everything. The way Endorsi moved, her footwork and use of the needle—those were things I could learn from. But this wasn't just a test. There was something deeper here, something personal that had spilled out into the arena.
"You see the difference now, right?" Endorsi sneered, her voice carrying across the pillars. "A real Princess, like me, earned her position. But you… you're nothing but a fake."
Anaak's expression darkened at the words. She wasn't one to lose her temper easily, but I could see the cracks forming. Without a word, she tossed her training needle aside, the sound of metal clanging against the ground reverberating through the arena. She was done playing by the rules.
Anaak powered up with shinsu again, her legs glowing as she launched herself at Endorsi, faster than before. This time, Endorsi was taken by surprise, barely managing to dodge in time. Even as she evaded the attack, I could see the surprise in her eyes. Anaak was already capable of enhancing her body with shinsu—a technique not easily mastered.
But Endorsi wasn't about to lose. She countered quickly, slamming Anaak down onto one of the pillars with a powerful strike. The impact echoed throughout the arena, and for a moment, it seemed like the fight might be over.
As Anaak lay on the pillar, momentarily stunned, Endorsi stood over her, her expression cold. "You've got the strength of a Princess, I'll give you that. But it doesn't change the fact that you're a fake. The real Anaak Jahad is dead."
Endorsi leaned in closer, her voice dripping with disdain. "Your mother broke the rules. She gave you this power, the Green April, everything—without you having to earn it. While I had to fight my way to the top, you were handed a legacy you didn't deserve."
Anaak's eyes flickered with something—pain, maybe? But she didn't respond. Instead, she gritted her teeth, pushing herself up slowly.
"You don't get it, do you?" Endorsi continued. "Your mother defied Jahad's rules, and because of that, you've been living with a power that was never yours to begin with. I earned my place, Anaak. I climbed the Tower like everyone else, and I became a Princess. But you? You're just a mistake."
The words hit hard, even from where I stood. I didn't know much about the politics of the Jahad Princesses, but from the way Anaak's face twisted in anger, I could tell Endorsi had hit a nerve.
Without warning, Anaak attacked again, moving with even more ferocity than before. This time, she aimed directly at Endorsi's feet, striking one of her shoes and throwing her off balance. Endorsi stumbled, teetering dangerously at the edge of the pillar. I held my breath, thinking for a moment that she might fall.
But Endorsi wasn't about to go down alone. In a quick move, she grabbed hold of Anaak's arm, pulling her down with her. The two of them tumbled off the pillar, crashing to the ground below with a sickening thud.
The entire arena fell silent. Even the instructor, who had been watching the fight with a critical eye, seemed taken aback by how far things had gone. I could see that both Anaak and Endorsi were injured—badly. Neither of them moved for a moment, both too hurt to continue.
—-
After a long day of training, I found myself drifting towards Hansung Yu's chambers. My body was sore from the grueling sessions, and the shinsu in my veins still thrummed from the exertion, but none of that compared to the disquiet growing inside me. The feathers—they weren't just extensions of my Skybending anymore. There was something more, something I couldn't grasp, and it gnawed at me with every passing day.
As I approached Hansung's chambers, I was hesitant. No one knew about these feathers. Not yet. I hadn't told anyone, not even Lero-Ro, and certainly not my fellow classmates.
I knocked lightly, unsure of what to expect. Moments later, the door opened, revealing Hansung Yu's calm, composed face. He studied me for a brief moment before stepping aside to let me in. His chambers were as quiet and serene as ever, an oasis in the chaos of the Tower.
"You're here early," he said, his voice as even as always. "I assumed you would come later to discuss your progress in the Wave Fisher class."
Hansung Yu believed I had come for guidance about my new role as a Wave Fisher, but there was more at play here. Something that needed clarity.
I stepped inside, trying to keep my voice steady. "Yes... I mean, that's part of it. But there's something else."
Hansung raised an eyebrow, intrigued but not surprised. "Go on."
I took a deep breath, steadying myself. "I've been using my wings as a shinsu generator for my Skybending technique. But lately, they've been... different. They're not just tools to enhance my abilities. They're acting on their own, almost like they're responding to something inside me. And I don't know how to control it."
For a brief moment, silence filled the room. Hansung's gaze never wavered, and then, with the smallest tilt of his head, he gestured for me to follow him into the training area at the back of his chambers. The space was simple—an open area with just enough room for demonstrations or small exercises. It felt intimate, yet vast, as though the shinsu in the air waited for direction.
"Show me," Hansung said, his tone patient but direct.
I hesitated, unsure of what to expect, but summoned a single feather being plucked out by some unknown force. It hovered in the air between us, just as it always had. Lightweight, sharp, and seemingly harmless. But as I concentrated on it, something stirred. It flickered, almost trembling in the air, as if waiting for me to do something more.
"I just found out I can use them like this," I explained, my eyes fixed on the feather.
Hansung's eyes narrowed slightly, observing the feather as if he could see something I couldn't. "Interesting," he murmured. "You're right. There's more to your wings than you've realized. They are an extension of your shinsu, but also of your will. However, you've only been using them at the most basic level."
I furrowed my brow, unsure of what he meant. "What do you mean?"
"Shinsu is not just energy, Kael. It is life itself. It flows through everything, binding all things together. These feathers... they are not simply constructs of your power. They are a reflection of your intent, your spirit. And you've been holding back, whether you realize it or not."
His words hung in the air, sinking into me slowly. I stared at the feather, suddenly aware of how fragile it seemed in comparison to what it could be. "Then how do I control them? How do I make them do what I want?"
Hansung stepped closer, his presence commanding but not overwhelming. "Control comes from understanding. You've been using them as generators for your Skybending, but they can be more than that. They can be weapons, tools of precision. But first, you must learn to trust them, to let them reflect what you need in the moment."
He paused, then added, "Try something. Condense your shinsu into one of the feathers, but don't think of it as a simple blade. Think of it as an extension of yourself."
I nodded, focusing on the feather in front of me. I could feel the shinsu flowing through it, but rather than pushing it into the feather like I had before, I tried to mold it, shape it into something more. Slowly, the feather began to harden, its edges sharpening, its body elongating until it resembled a thin, needle-like sword. It felt light in my hand, almost weightless, yet powerful.
Hansung observed quietly, his eyes never leaving the feather-sword. "Good. Now, this is where you'll find the true potential of your feathers. They are not just blades; they are tools of shinsu manipulation. You can harden them into weapons, yes, but you can also disassemble them, breaking them down into smaller projectiles that you can control at will."
I stared at the feather-sword, feeling the shinsu humming within it. Then, as Hansung had instructed, I willed it to break apart. The sword disassembled into smaller feathers, each one hovering around me like an orbit of tiny blades.
"Feather Lance," Hansung said quietly, almost as if naming the technique as I performed it. "You can use this for close combat, thrusting attacks, or even as a ranged weapon. The true mastery comes when you can shift between forms fluidly, adapting to your opponent's moves."
I nodded, watching the small feathers float around me, each one sharp and precise. The potential was clear now. These weren't just tools for Skybending. They were weapons, extensions of my will, ready to act as I needed them to.
Hansung smiled faintly. "With time and practice, you'll learn to master this. But remember, control comes from understanding. Don't force them. Let them reflect your intent."
I nodded, already feeling the possibilities spinning in my mind. Feather Lance was just the beginning. There was so much more to learn, so much more to master. And I would—no matter how long it took.