When a person becomes Stormborn, they are able to use all three forms — emission, reinforcement, and manifestation — but their body can typically only use one of those three to a very high level. It usually depends on many factors, but mainly on how their body and mind react to aeth, and how that aeth reacts to them. To some, the aeth becomes inherently explosive and dangerous, marking them with a natural talent in emission. To some, it's more tame and malleable, making it easy to use manifestation and create objects from pure energy. And to some, the aeth is attracted to them, to their body, bones, and muscles, enhancing them physically in every way through reinforcement.
Now, even though this is the case, every Stormborn can use the other forms above basic levels. It's just harder and feels unnatural, requiring much more concentration and mental strain. But technically, it is not impossible to get rather skilled in all three forms, it's just incredibly difficult. And no matter how hard you try, it's close to impossible to get as skilled in the other two as you are with your specialty. Using aeth with your specialty feels like using an extra limb, mindless and easy, as natural as breathing. The other forms feel like you're forcing something to do what it doesn't want to do, like pushing water uphill. Much harder, requiring constant focus.
Unless, that is, your name happens to be Rowan Valdros. Thanks to his rather… unique origins, he can do things no other Stormborn can. The restrictions that bind others don't seem to apply to him in quite the same way.
Jared welcomed Rowan back to the group not with whispers but with a smile and a firm slap on the shoulder. "Man! You didn't tell me you were so skilled, Rowan! I mean a three way specialist!? That's amazing!"
Rowan snickered. "You never asked."
"That again? Do I need to start damn interrogating you if I want to know anything about you?"
Rowan squinted at him. "Why do you want to know so much about me?"
Jared furrowed his brows, looking genuinely puzzled by the question. "Well, don't people often wish to know a thing or two about their friends?"
"We're friends? I met you today."
Jared pulled back, looking mockingly offended, placing a hand over his heart. "You offend me, good man! I'm giving you the opportunity of a lifetime right now, and you spit in my face?"
Rowan looked around and back to Jared, confused. "And what opportunity, pray tell, is that?"
Jared puffed out his chest, standing up tall and striking a heroic pose. "Well, the honor of being my friend! You know, it might not mean much now, but in the future, I'll be known as a hero who saved the world and ended the Storms."
Rowan rolled his eyes. "Oh, is that so? Don't sell yourself short, even now, you're still a part of House Cinders. Being your friend could produce some good connections for anyone."
Jared's expression softened, and he shook his head. "I'm just a lousy branch cousin of the main family. I'd hardly get you anywhere with this last name of mine. The main branch barely acknowledges we exist."
Rowan nodded slowly, considering. "Well, I guess if you're gonna be the hero of the ages and all, I better take this opportunity while it's here. So let's start over." He reached out his hand. "Hello, I am Rowan Valdros, aspiring Stormwatcher. Let's be friends."
Jared looked at Rowan's extended hand, his smile widening before he reached out his own and clasped it firmly, shaking it with warmth.
He's a weirdo and one damn prideful fool, Rowan thought, but he's honest and skilled, with a reputable name. Not a bad friend to have, even if he is just a bit annoying.
Rowan and Jared watched as a handful more people were called to take the test, none of them doing as well as Magnus, Jared, and Rowan, but not all performing horribly either. Some showed promise, others revealed their limitations quickly.
Now it was time for the last test taker.
"Cassia Goldleaf," Igor called loudly, his voice booming across the courtyard.
Goldleaf? Sounds noble, but I don't recognize it, Rowan thought, searching his memory for any mention of the house.
Soon he saw the face that belonged to the name as she strode up to the front, her movements fluid and precise.
His mind went blank.
He didn't even know why, wasn't sure what caused the sudden emptiness of thought, but for some reason, as he stared at this girl he had never before seen, he couldn't summon up a single coherent idea.
She wore a type of thin black, hoodless robe over black pants, and a gray undershirt that could be seen through the V-shaped parting in her robe-esque attire near her neck. The fabric moved around her like shadow made tangible. She walked with perfect posture and an air around her that made any previous chatter go silent, as if her mere presence commanded respect. Her hair was long, straight, and black as midnight, falling down her back like a dark waterfall. Her skin was pale as fresh snow, providing stark contrast, and her eyes were a fiercely unique red — not the red of bloodshot exhaustion, but a deep crimson that seemed to glow with inner light.
There weren't many words you could use to describe her, but there was one, at least none Rowan could think of. So instead he simply let his eyes wander.
He stared as she strode through the parted crowd.
A nudge of an elbow pushed into his shoulder, making him glance to his right where Jared stood with a knowing smirk. "Fancy her, huh? I will say she is quite the looker, but she didn't strike me as your type, Rowan, my man."
Rowan pulled back quickly. "No! I-I just, I, um…"
"Relax, relax, I'm not judging, man. But to be honest, Princess Mira is more my type… gosh, what a beauty she is, eh?"
"Watch your mouth, man. She is our princess, you know."
Jared looked at Rowan with a grin, undeterred. "And I will be the greatest hero ever seen… our babies will be gods."
Rowan rolled his eyes. "Stop talking."
Cassia now stood in front of the target wall and was preparing her emission blast. She raised her hands with elegant precision, and the aeth gathered around her with impressive speed. She released her blast, and it struck with tremendous force. She performed rather amazingly, scoring just behind Rowan and Magnus, her crater only marginally smaller than theirs.
Igor smiled, nodding his approval. "Many with potential in this lot."
Her reinforcement test was equally impressive. She destroyed seven cinderblocks completely and severely cracked the eighth. Her movements were efficient, controlled, wasting no energy.
But what really left mouths open and heads blank was her manifestation test.
Her cold, almost doll-like face remained unyielding to any emotion as she approached the pillar. She didn't even bother moving her hand forward or spending time in obvious concentration. Instead, in just a flash, a sword materialized, appearing out of thin air, pointed downward, hovering just above and behind her shoulder as if held by an invisible hand.
She raised her hand slowly, and the sword pulled back in perfect synchronization with her gesture.
S-she's controlling it… like a puppet, Rowan realized, his eyes widening. Without even touching it.
He stared, watching something he'd never seen before, manifestation taken to a level beyond the norm. Most Stormborn had to physically wield their manifested weapons. But this… this was different.
"Amazing," the word drifted lightly out of Jared's mouth, barely more than a breath.
Then CRACK.
The pillar was cut clean in half with just the wave of her wrist, the two sections separating with a grinding sound before the top half crashed to the ground. She didn't even touch the blade. It moved entirely at her mental command, an extension of her will made manifest.
It seemed even the Watch Commander himself was at a loss for words as he stared, his lips slightly parted in surprise, a rare expression on the weathered veteran's face.
Her sword disappeared as suddenly as it had appeared, dissolving into wisps of purple light. She released a shallow breath before walking back to the front of the group, turning to Igor and giving him a curt, respectful nod before taking her place among the candidates.
Igor still did not say anything at first, his face contracting into a smile as he nodded slowly in approval.
"Very nice," he said, too quietly for anyone else to hear, though the words carried weight.
Rowan watched as she made her way back, still not a single crack in her emotionless face, her expression as smooth and unreadable as polished marble.
She's so strong… stronger than me, even, he thought, the realization settling heavily in his chest. How? I've been trained since birth and can do things impossible for other Stormborn, and yet… I just have this unrelenting gut feeling that in a straight contest of power, a head-to-head fight, she'd sweep me. Easily.
Jared noticed Rowan staring and chuckled. "Careful, man, you're about to start drooling."
Rowan snapped out of his thoughts. "W-what?" He looked at Jared, confused.
Jared simply laughed. "You know, if you guys were to marry… you'd definitely be the house-bitch."
Rowan sighed, turning his attention away from his new friend. "Shut up."
Their banter was interrupted by Igor clapping his hands together loudly, the sound echoing through the courtyard like a thunderclap.
He suddenly jumped off the balcony from where he stood, plummeting two stories before landing in a crouch. Cracks spread outward in the stone ground from the impact of his landing, small fragments of rock scattering from the force.
"Alright, seems there is some prospect among you shiteaters this year, eh?" He stood to his full height and scanned the group with sharp eyes. "But now it's time to get to stage two. I'm glad you imbeciles all know the basic three forms and all, but just 'knowing them' won't be good enough for us." His gaze became sharp and dangerous, and an almost predatory smile crossed his weathered face. "The next stage will be one-on-one duels. Should be simple enough, yes?"
He looked around at the questioning glances that met his announcement, letting the tension build for a couple of long moments.
Finally, one of the noble boys raised his hand hesitantly.
Igor rolled his eyes. "Yes, you — the plump little noble brat. What is it?"
Redrick recoiled slightly at Igor's words, his face reddening. "S-sorry, sir, but um, who will we be dueling?" His voice came out slightly shaky and unsure.
Igor's grin turned devilish, sending chills through everyone's spines. The temperature in the courtyard seemed to drop several degrees.
"Why… who else?"
He reached up and let his fur-necked black cloak drop to the ground in a heavy heap.
"Me, of course."