Chapter 5

Blake

Swooping my wing in an arch, it collides with a dummy, the sliced threads falling down to the ground far below me. The strings suspending the dummy hang limply from the adjacent posts that were built for this purpose. Dry leaves float much more slowly in downward spirals. I flap backwards a bit, tired from the wing attack. Yet, I recover quickly and fly to another dummy for another attack.

I was convinced that Skyborne was unstoppable, impenetrable, and an almighty stronghold for our pokemon. The words spoken today still hold heavy in my stomach. Legendary pokemon or not, why would anyone dare threaten the powerhouse of the skies. It's a suicide mission! On top of all that, no one told us of the war going on right on our doorstep! That's the main thing that sets a fire inside of me, how we were kept in the dark the entire time. So, I'm letting my fire grow wild on the dummies. Not a good day for them.

I take out one more without breaking a sweat, it's remains tumbling down to an earth we barely ever touch. I take a breath and I fly over to one of the wooden platforms that holds the strings in the air for targets, dummies, and rings. On this platform, a basin of water is set out for drinking. I peer inside and see a Starly. It's feathers are ruffled and anger is flooding it's eyes. Some parts of it looks like me. Some look like a whole new pokemon. The picture become disorted as I bend down to drink, getting the thoughts out of my head.

Ty swoops in and perches at the edge of the platform. He sees me and looks concerned. His mouth opens to ask of my well-being. I interrupt him before anything can come out. "It's nothing, Ty. I'm fine." His jaw closes and his eyes examine the floorboards. I sigh and fly off. I've already decimated the dummies and they'd get mad at me if I take out any more. I resort to the ring course. The flying course that no one likes. No one except me.

I glide to the first ring positioned at the far corner of the training cavern. The course is a chore that Sheetsu makes us do occasionally. I'm the only one who takes delight in doing it. One of my favorite parts of it is watching everyone else moan and groan at the mention of the phrase "rings course". When it's a ring course day, our flock transforms into princesses. I chuckle as I take my spot at the start. Breathe in. Breathe out. Flap your wings.

Go.

I shoot through the first ring, passing through it's middle with perfect accuracy. One down, nine to go. My beak points downward and my body follows. I'm angled in a gentle slope, ring number two coming up fast. I glide through and pull upwards, setting my sights on number three. My wings push down, catching wind and ascending myself skyward. I level out and dart through the ring.

Banking left and right, I clear four and five. Climbing and swooping, I clear six and seven. Eight is easy pickings. The last two are the challenge. One ring that is hanging from the ceiling, far above all the other rings. The last one is a couple feet off the ground. The idea is to climb up to clear the ninth ring, then dive-bomb with perfect accuracy to make it through the last one without going splat. No one from our squadron of primaries have cleared all ten rings. Ever. Only some of our final-evolution raptors can clear it. I probably won't make it, but I can try.

I angle my body to be perfectly vertical, the tip of my beak pointing to the ceiling. My wings flap furiously to ascend to such heights. The ring approaches fast, but not fast enough. I need more speed, but there isn't time.I angle my body more horizontally and barely hit the rim. My wings graze the edges, but I've cleared it. I allow myself a breath. Too close. Way too close.

I shake it off and tuck in my wings. Gravity pulls me down and my beak points to the upcoming floor. Time slows down, despite the speed. My eyes squint from the wind blowing at my face. My wings press against my body to hide themselves until they practically merge with my feathers. The adrenaline rockets to a boil inside of me. I grin as the floor is within feet of me. Then, I unfurl my wings.

I'm jerked to almost a stop and pain shoots through both my shoulders. I grimace at the shock. Toughing it out, I adjust my position and glide through the ring. Perfect entry. Perfect accuracy. Perfect feeling. I flap backwards to slow my speed and eventually come to a stop. My talons settle on the ground that no bird rarely ever goes and, for the first time since I was up at the ninth ring, I allow air into my screaming lungs.

As I try to catch my breath, Ty glides over to my side and touches ground next to me, his eyes in disbelief. I smile. "Hey, dude...haff...h-how'd I do?" He still doesn't say anything. Instead, he jerks his head for me to follow and takes to the air. With wings like jello, I force them to get me airborn. They complain but, obey. I follow Ty to the platform we were at before. I perch on the boards while Ty still stares at me. Without any words, his head gestures to the basin of water. Giving him a confused look, I peer inside as I once did before my feat.
I don't see a Starly anymore. It has the same color feathers and some of the same features as I do, but it's also a lot different. It looks older, stronger.

It's a Staravia.