Words Are Wind Novels & Stories

The phrase echoed deep inside me, striking a place I thought long dead. I looked at them—these wolves who had been cast aside, hunted, broken, forgotten. Every scar, every hollow stare, was a story of survival. The air seemed to stir, whispering faintly through the trees. It wasn’t divine. It was older than gods. "Duskwind." The word slipped from my tongue before I could think. Cassian frowned. "What?" "Duskwind," I repeated, louder. "The wind that carries dusk into night. The last breath before darkness, and the first before dawn. That’s what we are."

I hadn't even finished reading the message when Vincent's voice sounded behind me. I hadn't even noticed when he walked over. "That's a boarding reminder. Where are you going?"

and the wind stirred. Not just wind. The breath of something old. Like something waking. “Last, the wolf was asleep no more.

A wind stirred as soon as the words were said. Soft. Warm. Moving through the branches of the ancient oak above us in a way that sent the white and silver fabrics lifting gently, catching the light and releasing it, carrying the scent of the flowers tied into them outward across the gathered pack. It was not dramatic. It did not crash or announce itself. It arrived quietly, the way the most meaningful things tend to arrive, and moved through the space between us and then through every person standing in witness. And our wolves answered.

Of names I have many, of names I have one. Then it clicked. It was something every pack knew, something we lived with in the wild. Something that could be a soft whisper or a destroying force. A wave. No. That wasn't quite right. The wind. Yes. The wind could be a small breeze or a hurricane gale. People hit the wind when they run into it. Everyone fears a storm. Wind dances to the music of the trees. It has many names: breeze, gale, zephyr, tornado, but it is one thing. And you can’t run from the wind; it’s everywhere.

Her body was also burning hot, her breathing rapid. "Ryan, I…"

This strength must be cultivated with a sweet temper. The wind, that inimitable power of nature that breathes furious life into the most inanimate of things, chose this moment to hurtle itself upon the wooden edifice with primal force, leaving the parishioners breathless and uneasy. It whistled through the cracks and crannies of the old, metal roof, giving the walls ancient voice: and speak they did…

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.

This time, Ash closed his eyes and sighed out in defeat before nodding to himself and speaking again. "I've just been thinking about mum more lately." Ash looked at the ground, afraid that if he so much as glanced up at Ms Vento's face, he'd break down into ugly tears. She reminded him of his mother more than anyone else he knew. "I miss her and I wish I could go back but I can't and it's honestly killing me." Ash began to rant and, against his better judgement, glanced up to see Ms Vento's reaction. The moment his eyes locked with hers, his eyes welled up with tears and he hung his head again, sobbing lowly under his breath.

I belong to the city of Wind, Anemestiras, which was known for being the most silent and peaceful place among all the cities, but now it is the complete opposite. The whistling wind is now rough, as numerous tornadoes are accumulated from the dark skies. Everyone is already on their knees as they call all the names of the deities to ask for help. But based on what I see, even the deities of the upper realm cannot do anything about this. Not even my deity. It not that I underestimate my deity. It is just, the situation is beyond the control of anyone, that even the deities themselves cannot contain. The atmosphere is heavy as well, as the wind was blowing too harsh, making all the houses coll