[i][/i][b]Iridessa's First Breath[/b]


Iridessa took a deep breath, slamming the doors open and walking into the small training hall. It was one of the Academy's older ones, no longer used for official lessons, but always open for those who wished to train on their own. This one was fire-specific, meaning its walls, floor and ceiling were far more resistant to charring and less likely to catch fire, although it was rumoured a Master could send it up in flames with a snap of his fingers. She dropped her satchel at the entrance.

She strode to the centre of the room, her heavy boots creating resounding thuds with every step. Many of the Firestorms she knew preferred to practice barefoot or with lighter footwear, allowing for nimbler and faster movement, but she preferred the forceful effect her boots gave her. She wasn't sure if they aided her skills in any way- although she wished they did, she needed all the boosts she could get right now- but she felt like they did. Coming to a stop, she took another breath, dropping and sending her leg out in a wide sweep, a trail of fire left behind her as she did so. She rose again and moved through most of her preferred forms swiftly, conjuring ribbons of fire that only surrounded her with a tickling warmth. Showy displays like this were what Iridessa liked best, but they weren't much use in fights, which were what she liked second best. 

She moved onto the more offensive tactics in her arsenal, searing and destructive blasts of heat, that, although effective, hadn't done much to advance her skill. She couldn't control them, which was a significant part of her problem. She could hear one of the Masters going on about it now, [i]It is just as important to control whatever you unleash, blah blah blah[/i]. Her method worked just as well, didn't it? She'd won many a fight with it, and it was apparently good enough that she'd been selected for the special mission to Juria. Still, the lack of any meaningful progress stung, and her movements became progressively more aggressive until she had practically engulfed the room with fire. Panting, she stopped, then tried to create a whirlwind of fire like she'd seen a Weaver do. As usual, she had no luck with it. Scowling and not at all relaxed from her practice session like she'd intended, she grabbed her satchel and stormed out of the room. She had to get to the airship anyway, she'd heard Commander Hayes was in charge. A notorious hardass, she didn't doubt he'd leave her behind without batting an eyelid if she wasn't there on time.

Thankfully, she made it there early, her bad mood somewhat abated. She acknowledged the two people who were already there, sitting on the grass a few meters away and performing little parlour tricks with fire to amuse herself.