The Extra's Rebellion
Chapter 59: Weaving class and announcement

Chapter 59: Weaving class and announcement

"Take shorter breaths. Make them shallow. Stop breathing. Now—breathe."

Miss Nyra’s voice was calm, steady, but her instructions felt impossible.

I’m trying. Damn it, Zephyr thought, teeth gritted.

For the umpteenth time, his body began to lift again—an involuntary float, as if untethered. His senses wavered, detaching from the world. Before he could fully drift, a ripple of Aether surged through him. Miss Nyra had cleared his channels again.

"That’s enough for today," the blindfolded woman said, her tone final.

She ushered the students out of the meditation chamber, her steps as silent as the breath she’d just taken from them.

Zephyr had come straight to this class after choosing the Alchemist path. There were only two classes under this track—

Meditation.

Weaving.

He had learnt something about the first one. But the second? He didn’t know a thing about it.

Still, after the draining session, he left the room feeling oddly refreshed. He hadn’t fallen asleep today—not like last time, when the moment he stepped into the room, unconsciousness had claimed him.

And that was thanks entirely to Miss Nyra. Anytime he was overwhelmed with the foreign Aether, she was the one who helped cleaned his Aether channel, wiping the influence it was having in his body off.

He headed into the hallway leading to the Weaving class. It was curved like a lazy river—soft lighting, glass walls veined, and the occasional whisper that exposed the other students overhead as some hurried past him. Zephyr’s footsteps echoed lightly as he moved, a little more aware of the subtle energy flowing through his limbs. Meditation had done something. His control wasn’t perfect, but the fuzziness was gone. He felt... clearer.

Room 7-A.

He stopped at the labeled door, hand hovering over the access glyph. The moment his palm connected, the surface shimmered and parted like liquid glass.

Inside, the room was dim—but not dark. Dozens of strands of colored Aether wove midair, like suspended silk threads—some stretched from floor to ceiling, others curved in patterns too intricate to be random. It was beautiful in a quiet, unknowable way.

Students sat there— some eyes closed other muttering something he couldn’t quite made sense of.

And in the center of it all stood a woman in a long, sleeveless coat, its hem brushing the floor. Her hair was braided into a tight knot, and her fingers moved in delicate motions through the threads, guiding one into another. As Zephyr stepped inside, she spoke without turning.

"Go take a seat. I will be with you shortly".

Zephyr moved towards one of the empty seats. Unlike the one in his class that looked like a pod, this one was just a wooden chair connected to a wooden desk.

The moment Zephyr sat down, he felt the faintest hum beneath the wood—as though the chair itself were alive, subtly tuned to the Aether threads surrounding it. The hum wasn’t mechanical. It was softer, more organic, like a pulse. He kept still, unsure whether to engage with it or just observe.

Across the room, the woman continued working the threads, weaving two strands—one emerald green, the other a bright gold—into a figure-eight pattern. The threads reacted not just to her fingers but to her intent. Zephyr could feel it. Her Aether didn’t push or force. It invited. Enticed. And the threads obeyed.

After a few minutes, she finally turned. Her eyes were sharp, not unkind, but not indulgent either. The kind of gaze that measured before it spoke.

"You’re the new one from Fighter track?" she asked. Her voice carried a faint accent, the syllables crisp. She didn’t wait for an answer. "I’m called Merin. You may call me Instructor."

She gestured to the air in front of him. A thin strand of blue Aether began to drift down from the ceiling, coiling toward his desk like a living filament.

"Catch it."

Zephyr blinked. Then extended his hand only for it to pass through his palm. It was like it was holographic. "Catch it? How?."

"With your Aether. Not your hand," she added dryly. "This is weaving. Not fishing."

Right. He drew in a breath, trying to steady the energy within him. He focused on the thread, willing his Aether to extend outward, to touch it.

Nothing.

The strand hovered lazily, as if mocking him.

Instructor Merin then spoke impatiently as if tired of saying the same thing over and over again. "Attempt to join it. Don’t overthink it, use your will you intent".

He nodded subtly then narrowed his eyes, trying again. This time, hefollowed the words his instructors had just said and the little control he had learnt in meditation class to guide him—not to grab the thread, but to join it. His Aether nudged forward, slower this time. And the thread... tilted. It responded. Not entirely, but it noticed him.

Zephyr felt the difference immediately.

A flicker of satisfaction touched Merin’s lips. "Good. Better than most first tries. My time wasn’t wasted on you."

The strand slowly wrapped around the air above his desk and stayed there, suspended in a gentle spiral.

"In this class," she continued, "you will learn how to shape Aether. Not simply move it. Not punch with it. You will compose with it. Weaving is language. It is structure. It is form."

Zephyr nodded slowly, eyes still fixed on the thread. He could already tell—this wasn’t a skill you mastered quickly. But it had depth. Elegance.

"There’s something I want you to understand". She said while turning her back at him. "Aether weaving only has basics, no advanced form. Everyone understanding of it is different and unique in it’s own ways. Just as everyone faces are different so is their thoughts and so is they understanding. It may look the same but upon closer inspection non are exactly the same".

’Am feeling this class’. He originally thought that it was going to be boring due to the mechanism he had previously seen but this— this was revolutionary for his mind.

The suddenly the all too familiar voice of Elden sounded. Not from his phone or the one from the next person. It came from the one monitoring the class.

[SYSTEM ANNOUNCEMENT – ELDEN AI INTERLINK – PRIORITY TRANSMISSION]

TO ALL STUDENTS OF THE FOUR GREAT WINGS

T̷͔̍H̴͖͛Ë̷̗́ ̷̟̍T̷͙͝O̸͕̔U̷͉͆Ŕ̵̪N̶̯͐Á̸͚M̴̹͐E̵͓̽N̴̤̓T̸̳̍ ̵̥͊O̷̘͗F̴̠͠ ̶̛͔P̵͖͝O̵͕͘W̴̯͒É̸͇R̶̡̕ ̸̪͝Ḯ̷̮S̶̢̓ ̷͕͊C̴̳͝O̷̝̿Ḿ̷͔I̴̯͗N̴̙̅G̸̫̈́ <<

The Tournament of Power has officially been scheduled for three months from this date.

You now stand on the precipice of history.

Prepare, train, evolve. For only the strongest shall rise.

Eligible Divisions:

Phoenix Wing

Black Tortoise Wing

Dragon Wing

White Tiger Wing

Each wing shall put forth their finest.

But only one shall ascend.

Only one shall claim the mantle of the Red Sphinx Class—

—an honor reserved for the most lethal, brilliant, and unyielding soul of this generation.

Your path begins now.

[END TRANSMISSION]

Zephyr was intially confused at the announcement until he remembered Keal words.

"Only the top would ascend". He muttered under his breath as he felt the rest of the class stir.

"It’s starting!! It’s starting!!!!". That was what a boy said before running out of the class.

In no time the class was half empty leaving only Zephyr, the chairs, the numerous strings floating in the air and the instructor Merin— so yeah, it was empty.

"Aren’t you going". He turned to look at the instructor whi asked him in a confused voice.

"And why should I do that".

"It’s started". She replied. "The tournament of power, one have to fight his or her entire class and then the winner has to fight the rest two class— the winner will represent his or her district and fight the winners of the other districts to be enable to ascend to the Red Sphinx district".

"I get it". Zephyr said. "But what I don’t get is why they left the class".

"Weaving takes time to show visible proof. Unlike the fighter track. So go on I won’t hold it against you". She said but Zephyr still didn’t move.

"I want to stay". Zephyr wasn’t sure if he would be able to ascend to Elpison by the third month as is soul was in a cool down from his recent advancement. The most he could do was to eat Aether hearth— a lot of it, so his body would be saturated by Aether. Aside from that weaving was the only way he could strengthen himself.

"Yes". The serious instructor suddenly pumped her fist then turned to look at the dumbfounded Zephyr. "You may not know but it had always been a source of Anxiety for me".

’Why can’t I have at least in a normal teacher’. Zephyr let out a sigh as he listened to Merin chattering that didn’t have anything to do with the content of the class. This teacher wasn’t normal, the meditation class teacher was eccentric and Mr. Fisher was outright crazy.

"Just why". He let out a sigh. This for sure was going to be a long three months.