Blown Away (Lloyd Garmadon x Reader)

To the Top

Azan led (y/n) to a platform upon it were spinning doors lined up, side by side and behind each other in rows. "You have been scratching the surface of your power, the brute force of the wind. You need to forget it," Azan instructed bluntly. (y/n)'s eyes widened in shock, she wondered if she had been doing something wrong her entire wrong, "you have done nothing wrong, but the element of wind isn't suited to aggressive fighting styles, the art of the silent fist comes close to the unique battle technique of the Masters of wind," he continued. "A breeze if you will?"

(y/n) created a wind that blew past the doors, they began to spin, "what now?" she asked. Azan's gaze remained fixed on the doors. (y/n) realized that she had to go through them, she jogged to the first door. She stood on her toes and ran forward, she grunted as she was smacked in the face by a door, she turned to try and head in another direction, but she was hit again, she stumbled. She was at the mercy of the doors as they tossed her around like a ragdoll and spat her back out at Azan's feet. He frowned at her.

She groaned as she got back up, "what's next?" she asked as she hissed in pain, she would definitely be feeling that later. She didn't know how she was expected to make it past the doors without a concussion. Azan gestured her to follow.

"Pick up the rocks," he instructed as they stood before two boulders. (y/n) cracked her knuckles as she began to move with the wind, guiding its movements so that the wind swirled around the rocks like a tornado. She took a deep breath; it was challenging, moving two separate winds to lift boulders off the ground and after a bit of strain they were off the ground. "Now do it again but don't move, use your mind." (y/n) took a deep breath as she focused on the rocks. The wind picked up and swirled around them, she bit her lip as she tried to focus the breeze on the rocks. She could tell by the way her hair blew towards the rocks that the wind was spiraling around them, but the winds weren't fast enough to lift them off the ground. She gasped for breath, not knowing when she held it, but the rocks hadn't budged.

Azan said nothing, he just moved along to the next platform, where a singular staff laid upon the ground. "Stand upon the staff," he instructed as (y/n) jumped onto the top, she stood on one leg like a stork, the staff didn't shake or sway, neither did (y/n). (y/n) watched curiously as Azan grabbed a near bag. "Do not let the staff fall to the ground and do not let it leave the ground and you cannot use the powers to stop the rocks," he instructed as he began to throw pebbles. (y/n) closed her eyes, fighting the urge to use the wind to stop the dark like stones. She winced as they came in contact with her body several times. She fell from the staff when a stone hit her in the head. She groaned as she rubbed her forehead.

Azan said nothing he continued to the next platform, leaving (y/n) to pick herself up and follow after him. Is this what he meant that she had only scratched the surface of her power? She felt a crippling anxiety crawl over her skin, every exercise she had ever been give she either aced the first try or came close to success. She was worried that she'd never be ready to face Mount Windsor. She took a deep breath and tried to swallow the feeling, yet it felt like a sinking stone, she was beginning to think that it might have been best to stay with Lloyd. Maybe the wind was wrong?

The last platform simply had a block of iron. Azan laid a hand on in, he glanced at (y/n) from the corner of his eye. "The Masters of Wind are the only elemental Master in existence to be able to use an ancient technique known as the invisible blade, a gust of wind so sharp and precise that it can cut through steel."

He stood to the side and gestured (y/n) to have at it. She took a deep breath, her nerves crawled along her arms like a spider. She knew it would be impossible for the wind to cut through iron. She summoned a wind, but the iron would not move. She summoned around. She scowled as she ran to the block of iron, a fire raged in her. She needed to be good at least one thing. She punched it. She ignored the pain that shot up her wrist, she growled as there was no evidence of damage. She hit it again. Over and over. The fury increasing with every punch she laid into it.