I'm a... Leaf Bender

4 | Flying

Hansou’s newfound confidence carried him through the first few days of his next phase of training. The hermit watched him closely as he practiced slicing through saplings, shielding himself with spinning barriers of leaves, and even creating small gusts of wind with their movement. While his progress was remarkable, the hermit had another lesson in mind—one that would change how Hansou viewed his ability entirely.

One morning, as the soft golden light filtered through the Whispering Forest, the hermit approached Hansou with a fresh challenge. In his hand was a single, perfectly green leaf. He handed it to Hansou, his expression unreadable.

“Today,” the hermit said, “you will learn to shape a leaf, not as it is, but as it could be. True mastery lies in transformation, not merely manipulation.”

Hansou frowned, turning the leaf over in his hand. “Shape it? What do you mean?”

The hermit gestured toward a nearby boulder. “Think of the leaf not as something fixed, but as something malleable. It can be thin as a blade, wide as a shield, or small and sharp like a dart. But first, you must learn to change its form.”

Hansou raised an eyebrow, skepticism creeping in. “How am I supposed to do that? It’s just a leaf.”

The hermit’s eyes twinkled. “And you are just a boy. Yet you’ve done things even you thought were impossible. Begin.”

--

Hansou sat cross-legged on the soft forest floor, the leaf balanced delicately in his palm. He closed his eyes, focusing on it with all his might. He tried to imagine it changing, elongating into a narrow blade. He willed it to stretch, but nothing happened. The leaf remained as stubbornly ordinary as ever.

For hours, Hansou tried and failed, frustration mounting with every attempt. He twisted his hands, narrowed his eyes, and even shouted at the leaf in a fit of irritation. Nothing worked.

The hermit remained calm, observing silently. Finally, he spoke. “You are trying to force the leaf to change, but transformation cannot be coerced. It must be guided. Feel the essence of the leaf. It is alive, like you. Speak to it with your energy, not your anger.”

Hansou sighed and tried again, this time calming his mind. He let his frustration melt away and simply held the leaf, feeling its texture and the faint pulse of life within it. Slowly, he focused on its edges, imagining them sharpening, thinning.

To his amazement, the leaf began to respond. Its edges grew finer, glinting faintly in the sunlight. Hansou gasped, nearly losing his focus, but he steadied himself and continued. Soon, the leaf had transformed into a thin, dagger-like shape, its tip razor-sharp.

He held it up, awe washing over him. “I… I did it.”

The hermit nodded approvingly. “Good. Now, let’s see how creative you can be.”

--

Over the following days, Hansou practiced tirelessly, learning to reshape leaves into a variety of forms. He created sturdy shields by layering and fusing multiple leaves together. He shaped others into throwing darts, each sharp enough to pierce bark. The most challenging task was forming intricate designs, like twisting a leaf into a coiled spring or forming it into a seamless sphere.

The hermit pushed him harder each day, testing his limits. “A true master does not rely on a single form,” he said. “Adaptability is your greatest strength. If you cannot adjust, you cannot survive.”

One afternoon, the hermit stood in the middle of the grove, tossing rocks at Hansou from all directions. Hansou had to reshape the leaves on the fly to block the projectiles. He created small, flat disks to deflect the rocks, then larger shields for clusters of stones. Sweat poured down his face, but he didn’t stop, his movements growing faster and more fluid with every throw.

Finally, the hermit stopped, lowering his hand. “You’ve done well. But you’ve yet to reach your potential.”

Hansou wiped his brow, panting. “What’s left to do? I’ve shaped them into everything I can think of.”

The hermit’s lips curled into a sly smile. “Have you considered size?”

Hansou tilted his head. “Size?”

The hermit gestured to a massive oak leaf hanging from a nearby branch. “Why limit yourself to what you see? A leaf can be as small as a needle or as large as the sky. It is your will that determines its form.”

--

Hansou spent the next week mastering the art of altering a leaf’s size. It was painstaking work. At first, he could only enlarge a leaf slightly before it withered, unable to hold its new form. But as he improved, the leaves grew sturdier and larger. Soon, he was creating leaves big enough to use as makeshift shelters.

The real breakthrough came when the hermit set him a daunting challenge. “Make it large enough to carry you,” he said, his tone deadly serious.

Hansou stared at him in disbelief. “Carry me? Like… fly on it?”

The hermit nodded. “Yes. If you wish to master your power, you must overcome its greatest limitation: your imagination.”

Hansou set to work, focusing harder than he ever had before. He summoned a single leaf and began to expand it, pouring his energy into every vein, every cell. The leaf grew, its edges curling slightly under the strain. It reached the size of a small mat, then a rug, then larger still.

Hansou staggered, sweat dripping from his brow, but he didn’t stop. The leaf grew wider, sturdier, until it was large enough for him to sit on. He stepped onto it cautiously, half-expecting it to collapse. To his amazement, it held firm.

The hermit nodded in approval. “Now, make it fly.”

Hansou hesitated, then closed his eyes and imagined the leaf rising. He felt it tremble beneath him, then slowly lift off the ground. He gasped as it hovered a few feet in the air, wobbling slightly.

The hermit watched silently as Hansou steadied the leaf, guiding it higher and higher. Soon, he was gliding above the treetops, the wind rushing past his face. A laugh bubbled up in his throat as he realized what he had accomplished.

When he landed, the hermit approached him, his expression unreadable. “You have done well, Hansou. But you are no longer a mere leaf bender. What you have achieved goes beyond that. From this day forward, call it leaf manipulation. It is not a simple trick—it is an art, and you are its master in training.”

Hansou’s chest swelled with pride. For the first time in his life, he felt like his power was something extraordinary. “Leaf manipulation,” he said softly, the words feeling right on his tongue.

The hermit smiled. “Your journey is far from over, but you have taken your first steps toward true mastery. Use your power wisely, Hansou. The world is vast, and it will test you in ways you cannot yet imagine.”