Words Are But Wind Novels & Stories

The wind danced and twirled, a mischievous sprite teasing the edges of my curiosity. As the pages fluttered and threatened to escape my grasp, I desperately clung to them, fearing the loss of the precious knowledge they held. But the wind was relentless, merciless in its determination to snatch the words from my fingertips. With a final defiant flourish, the pages slipped free, descending towards the ground like confetti at a forgotten celebration.

She then shrugged her shoulders. Brandon glanced at Liam and asked for help, but Liam only crossed his arms and said, "What? Can't deal with it? If not, then don't come near me." With those words, it became Brandon's warning. As tension increased in the surrounding area, a sudden gust of wind disrupted the unsettling encounter. The wind seemingly responded to Brandon's unspoken frustration and fear of Liam, and the wind blew fiercely, catching everyone off guard. Dust and debris filled the air, shrouding the group in a temporary whirlwind, and the inappropriate girl found her carefully styled hair now disheveled.

The wind whispered through the ruins, carrying with it an undercurrent of tension that seemed to mirror the clash of their opposing forces. Elysia's voice cut through the stillness, her words sharp and resolute. "You've manipulated time for your own ends for far too long. The balance must be restored."

We walked through the Dirt in a silence that wasn’t quite silence. The wind moved around us softly, like a breath on the back of the neck—gentle, deliberate, wrong. Fine particles of dust drifted down from the sky in lazy spirals, clinging to my eyebrows, the creases of my coat, the corners of my mouth. It settled with intention, as if it had a memory of me.

The breeze eddied in front of her face. It did not caress. It did not slap. It just hovered, cool and implacable. “We carry news,” the wind said. “Not choices. But we’ve watched you, storm-wolf. Since the first night you screamed at the sky. Since you walked out alone instead of folding in.” Snow swirled around her in small, tight spirals, not enough to blind, enough to wrap her in a moving veil. “We saw you call cloud and crack earth,” it went on. “We saw you *turn back.* We saw you *heal.*”

The wind moved through the branches overhead with a low, ancient murmur. The land remembered everything. Soon enough, it would tell her names.

With the wind blowing, they walked side by side in silence. *_*

“A piece of me, in his hands, and he walks like it’s nothing.” The wind swirled one last time. It was so playful yet knowing, whispering secrets to the city that only it could understand. “I'd keep my Windax with you for a little bit longer.”

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 ..

Outside, the wind is in pit of rage, as if it is in his climax of revenge against every matters in the ground. It attended the tall trees, not just a gentleman's dance but like a battle whether it can pull their roots out or they'll remain unscathed when the grandiose visit comes to end.