Stories About The Wind Novels & Stories

Intrigued, I gently pulled the book from its resting spot and dusted off its faded cover. As I opened the book, a faint scent of old parchment mingled with the musty air, creating an atmosphere that spoke of forgotten wisdom. The pages were yellowed and brittle, telling tales of countless hands that had turned them before mine. I began to read. “The Winds of Change,” it began, “are the invisible forces that shape our destinies. They whisper in our ears when we least expect it, urging us to question, to explore, and to forge our paths. When tradition meets resistance, the Winds of Change stir, seeking brave souls who will challenge the existing state of affairs.”

From within, a howling wind seemed to beckon us. As we entered the cave, the wind intensified, swirling around us like a tempest. We pressed on, undeterred by the force of nature before us. At the heart of the cave, we encountered the wind spirit—a graceful being that soared through the air like a gentle breeze. Its eyes sparkled with curiosity as it regarded us. "Why have you come?" the wind spirit asked, its voice carrying the sound of rustling leaves. "We seek the essence of air," I said, my voice clear despite the wind's force.

He thought of the old Windrider saying: the grass bends in the wind, but never breaks. He wondered what it must be like to live in a world where everything grew wild and unrestrained.. The conversation wandered from weather to wolves. The King told two stories that ended with someone losing a finger and by the time supper was over, Alix had learned more about Greenborne than he ever wished to know. The King leaned back, stretching.

The story was not done. The cinders had spoken. But the wind was rising. And it carried with it the promise of a reckoning.

It was a bad sight that had tears in my eyes as I looked at the wind and just saw the man had disappeared. He has waited all these decades for the freedom that I am finally giving him. I can't believe it. I was about to touch the wind when I felt a pull on my hand. My body was so weak that I almost fainted but I could hear someone's voice behind me. “Don't touch the wind, you will go with it, don't touch it!” The voice yelled but I could only hear it faintly and I retracted my hands and watched the wind leave totally and I slowly fell to the ground.

Lavi tells Anna. “It is the third day of Solstice,” the old man muses. “It is the day when the Dragon of the Wind had first flown the skies!” “Dragon of the Wind?” Lavi asks. “That’s a myth!” “There is no such thing as myths!” The old man says. “Every story has a truth. We are the followers of the Dragon and we believe that he will return one day with his mate to release the world from the clutches of the treacherous Gods!”

"The wind—it's getting dangerous!" "I just know," Kael whispered as he watched the wind accelerate into a screaming vortex. He could hear her cries shift from sobs to a loud, agonizing scream that ripped through the air, echoing off the cliffs. The sound was visceral, filled with years of loneliness, hatred, and a grief so heavy that he felt it too.

The wind knows everything. So why would I even wonder why he did knows everything about me. If the wind is what he holds. Wyn ..

I nod my head and signal for her to carry on. "So if you master controlling the wind, you can control the weather. That is why I said, on earth it is considered quite powerful. Unlike the other elements, wind needs space. It cannot be confined. That's the only downside of this element. However, to some, this symbolize freedom." Yeah, she is making sense. "Now, you must know that wind does move objects and can be very destructive. This is only determined by the speed and strength. Master it and you can even create a tornado, Gale and hurricane. You can create cyclones and anticyclones as well."

Next thing I know I’m back on the street. Only it’s not Chinatown, maybe not even New York. The wedge of twilight sky I can see from the narrow alley isn’t cut by telephone wires but strings of ragged prayer flags. They flutter in the wind with a sound like pigeon wings. As I pass under them, the windows of the surrounding buildings pulse with the light of candles and I smell the iron tang of blood.