The Name Of The Wind Show 소설 & 이야기

Jidana and kariya left their hut and went outside and sat in the sand. She then told Kariya to close his eyes as she did the same. She then held up the Wing Regalia and began to recite a poem; “show us the winds, give us the power to soar above all, show us the path, show us the road we must lightly tread show us the Wing Road.” Said Jidana and the Wing Regalia released a cool blast of wind. The cool breeze washed over them as they opened their eyes. They were no longer sitting in the sand, they weren’t even in Xanner anymore, instead they were in space standing on a stream of winding air.

The magic circle dissolved, transforming into a swirling vortex of wind that enveloped us in a protective embrace. "This spell," I announced, my voice ringing with authority, "is called Anemo Barrier." A shimmering wall of wind materialized around us, a constant, whirling shield against the onslaught. Anything that dared approach was shredded to pieces by the relentless force, a testament to the power of the wind god's blessing.

"Mothflight was worried that you would overexert yourself, and I'm afraid I've pushed you too far." She stiffened at the name he called her by. She blinked a few times in shock as she looked at her mate, unsure of what to say. It suddenly felt as if someone had woken her up from a deep trance-like state as she finally locked eyes with him. "My name is not Wind," she protested. Her mate frowned and studied her face closely, as if he wasn't sure whether she was being serious or not. "Maybe I did push you too far," his shoulders sagged in disappointment. "You are Wind, my mate and my love."

But the wind shifted, whispering a new name. Not Elara. Not Sirelia. Ashwake. And in the world’s last hush, the flame that would never kneel again walked on.

HUMAN HERIBERTO ~TATE POV~ The four element guardians stepped forward in unison. East: An elderly witch with silver hair and eyes like storm clouds raised her hands to the darkening sky. "Spirits of wind, come to us!" Her voice carried on a wind that had not existed a moment before. "From the mountains where eagles fly, we call you by the ancient name! Come! Inspire our magic!" The wind answered. It blew through the broken buildings, feeling warm, wild, and full of life. The air felt stronger. I could feel my lungs fill with energy that tasted like mountains and open sky.

The forty-first floor smells like fresh carpet glue and cold coffee, and under it, faint, the mineral tang of the Chicago River drifting up through the vents whenever the wind off the lake pushes hard enough. Wren Sutter's team calls that wind the hawk, same as everyone born south of the Loop calls it, and today it rattles the window seal behind her desk in short, testing pulls. She does not turn to look at the skyline. Her eyes stay on the leather folder centered on the desk, squared to the edge like she squared it three times already.

"You don't remember? I'm no longer part of the Windclaw pack. You kicked me out of the pack and dumped me like that, so why should I bother upholding the honor of the pack? What is Windclaw? I don't even have anything to do with the pack. I'm sorry, but for me now, that pack I never even knew existed." "You still bear my name behind your name!" Lea chuckled and took something out of her bag. Her passport. "What? The name of Braiven? Ohoo, I don't want to take such an immoral name, Mr. Dalton B-R-A-I-V-E-N! Look! You can still read well or should I get you reading glasses? My name is Amarin. A-M-A-R-I-N! I should have changed my name a long time ago. At least Amarin sounds prettier, more melo

Stavros’s POV The car sped along the highway that took me through the boreal forest, high Alpine, and rolling tundra until we reached a desolate village. I knew the place since I had come here before. It was the Wild Wain Village, the territory of the Wind Wolves. The place was cold, desolate, and uninhabitable, submerged in darkness because the clouds hanging low completely blocked the pale rays of the Midnight sun.

"I found the same bread at the Wind Catcher's altar just when I arrived." Flashback of himself running his life out to reach the forest before lunchtime to offer his baked goods to the Wind Catcher's altar crossed his mind. The Wind Catcher, as the myths say, is the protector of the forests and its inhabitant. She was said to be of the Fairy race and is chosen by the Gods to execute the said duty. Believing she could be a Fairy who lives among the forest creatures, he thought doing such deed would let him see her once more.