Swan Year

so weak (or is it?)

The next morning was disgusting as like every morning. Iris's irritation boiled on the surface when she found Ashley her irrelevant optimistic roommate playing morning bird music where birds fucking chirp for like an hour or two, "stop with this fucking chirping music! " Iris almost looked dismantled.
"Come on.. It's calming" Ashley said with full enthusiasm

Iris gave her a skeptical look and said, "maybe for you but for me it's literally hell"

To much of Iris's relief.. Ashley has already left. So iris got ready and went to the training grounds.

Iris had never been one for crowds, but it seemed like everyone in the training grounds had gathered today. Her eyes narrowed as she maneuvered through the cluster of students, avoiding the lingering glares and the whispers that always followed her presence. The buzz of conversation faded as she reached the far corner of the yard. She'd been trying to avoid him, but fate had other plans.

Tristan Alore stood with a group of his friends, his usual smirk plastered across his face. He was an arrogant, muscular brute, someone who thrived on picking on those weaker than him. But what made it worse was his perception of power. To him, it was about showing off his raw abilities and making people fear him, something he did well. Too well.

Iris was no exception.

"Well, well, if it isn't the powerless wonder," Tristan sneered as he noticed Iris coming up. His friends snickered behind him. "Are you lost, or is the sight of real power too much for you?"

Iris didn’t break her stride as she stopped in front of him. She crossed her arms, unfazed, her eyes glinting with sarcasm. "I'm just admiring your attempt at subtlety. It's... adorable."

Tristan chuckled darkly, clearly enjoying the attention from his group. "Oh, I see. The silent type. But it's a shame, isn't it? No powers, no real future. What's left for someone like you, huh? A nobody, really."

Iris didn’t flinch. Instead, she tilted her head slightly. "What's it like to rely on power as your only redeeming quality? I bet it’s exhausting, trying to make up for what's lacking inside."

The words stung, but Tristan only scowled and took a step toward her. "You think you're funny, don't you?" His tone dropped low, turning dangerous. "I bet you're just dying to get a taste of what real power feels like."

Before Iris could reply, Tristan flicked his wrist, summoning a burst of energy from his hand. It crackled in the air, a violet lightning strike that shot toward her. But Iris didn’t even blink.

She sidestepped easily, her movements fluid and controlled, as though she had anticipated the attack from the moment he moved. The burst of violet energy smashed into the ground behind her, leaving a scorch mark in the dirt. Tristan's eyes narrowed. He hadn't expected her to dodge it so effortlessly.

"Not bad for a powerless freak," he muttered, raising his hand again, this time with more intent. The air thickened around them, charged with a power she knew could easily tear through most. He released another wave of energy, aiming directly at Iris's chest.

This time, Iris didn’t move. Instead, she let it slide through her chest. Tristan’s smirk faltered as the energy shattered, like glass against an unbreakable surface, scattering harmlessly in every direction.

"What the hell?" Tristan growled, stepping back as confusion twisted his expression.

"You should’ve listened to rumors when they said I'm immune to tricks like yours," Iris said, her voice cold and steady. Her posture remained relaxed, even though her heart was pumping faster. The training with her father had always taught her to stay calm in situations like these and her mother would use her powers on her just like how Tristan is doing right now, but Tristan’s overconfidence was beginning to irritate her.

Without warning, she charged at him, her body a blur as she used every ounce of her father’s combat training. Tristan barely had time to react before Iris’s fist collided with his jaw. The force of the punch sent him stumbling backward, his friends gasping in surprise.

He shook his head and wiped the blood from his mouth, eyes flashing with anger. "You think you can beat me? You’re nothing but a weak little girl without powers."

Iris didn’t answer. She didn’t need to. She was already on the move again, her feet a steady rhythm as she closed the gap between them. Tristan swung a punch, aiming for her midsection, but she ducked, her elbow jabbing into his side, knocking the wind out of him. His breath hitched, but his fist followed through anyway, only to be caught by Iris’s swift reflexes.

She twisted his arm behind him, using his own momentum against him. She pushed him down, sending him crashing to the ground with a resounding thud. Tristan lay there, stunned and struggling to breathe.

“Is that all?” Iris asked with a thin smile, her voice dripping with mockery. "Because if you want, I could show you the moves my dad taught me. But I think you've had enough for today."

Tristan’s friends backed away, silent, their earlier jeers dying in their throats. They hadn’t expected this—this girl, who they thought was weak, was standing over their leader like she owned the ground beneath them.

Iris straightened, her gaze icy. "I don’t need powers to win a fight. Maybe you should focus less on what I lack and more on what you’re clearly missing."

Tristan glared up at her, fury flashing in his eyes. "You’ll regret this, Dawn," he spat, trying to rise to his feet, but Iris just turned and walked away, ignoring him.

Her father had always told her that power wasn’t everything. Combat and self-defense were about strategy, about knowing your opponent and using your environment to your advantage. While Tristan had relied on brute strength and his abilities, Iris had trained in the art of patience, precision, and adaptability. It had always been enough to hold her own.

And today, it was more than enough to prove that power wasn't the only way to win a fight.