As he walked,
one thought kept circling endlessly in his mind.
So… what does wind even look like…?
Two more days passed.
Ryn continued to think about the "shape of wind" over and over again.
Whether sitting still
or wandering outside in search of it,
no matter what he did,
he still couldn't understand it.
"Haa…"
He let out a long sigh.
Richard wasn't around to ask.
And even if he were,
Ryn knew his teacher wouldn't give him a straight answer anyway.
Still…
maybe he'd at least gain some kind of hint.
Ryn lowered his gaze.
Should I ask one of the mages?
But who?
And if I keep failing like this… Aurelia will definitely throw me out.
The same thoughts repeated in his head again and again.
In the end, he lay flat on the training ground in front of Richard's house,
staring up at the vast afternoon sky.
A gentle breeze drifted past.
Leaves loosened from the branches,
floating softly before falling to the ground.
Cool air brushed against his skin.
Ryn let himself go empty—
no thinking,
no forcing.
And in that emptiness,
he began to feel the flow of the wind.
It had no shape.
That's right… wind has no form.
Yet it was real.
His eyes couldn't see it,
but his body could feel it.
The soft touch on his skin.
The movement of the air.
The falling leaves.
Ryn opened his eyes and quickly sat up,
his gaze locking onto a leaf drifting downward.
It didn't fall straight down.
Sometimes it spun,
sometimes it lifted slightly upward.
The wind near the ground made it swirl in gentle patterns.
At last, he began to grasp it.
Yes… the wind has no fixed shape.
But one thing is certain—
The wind spins.
Ryn closed his eyes,
thinking of the wind that carried the falling leaves,
thinking of how it spun and swirled.
Little by little,
that image became clearer within his focus.
This time, he began again—
without leaves,
without any visual image to cling to.
There was only the sensation
that the air was moving,
that it was swirling in the palm of his hand.
He repeated the feeling,
again and again,
until it became steady.
Then he released it.
His palm began to grow cool.
He could feel something moving there.
When Ryn opened his eyes,
a faint green light appeared in his palm—
rotating, swirling,
forming into a small sphere.
His heart pounded.
He was overjoyed,
yet he dared not show it.
He didn't move.
He barely breathed.
Afraid that if his concentration slipped,
even for a moment,
the wind would vanish—
and he might never be able to summon it again.
That evening, Ryn hurried straight to Aurelia's mansion.
The grand doors opened swiftly.
He rushed past a maid walking in the opposite direction,
barely sparing her a glance,
and headed straight for the room he knew Aurelia would be in.
"Master! I did it!"
his voice rang out the instant he saw her.
But Aurelia didn't even flinch
at the sound of his hurried footsteps.
"Lack of manners,"
she said coldly.
Ryn froze.
The excitement that had been about to overflow
was instantly pressed down.
He straightened himself,
standing still—
calm and composed.
Outwardly, Aurelia remained cold and distant.
But deep inside,
she couldn't deny a quiet fondness for him.
She simply had no intention of showing it.
"Then show me."
Ryn nodded, closed his eyes, and focused.
He didn't think about shape.
He didn't try to force anything.
He simply recalled the feeling of the wind brushing against his skin—
the coolness,
the movement,
the natural, flowing rotation.
In an instant, a soft green light appeared in his palm.
The wind swirled steadily—
stable, unshaken, unbroken.
Ryn opened his eyes and looked at it with quiet pride.
Aurelia wasn't much different.
Though she didn't offer praise,
in her heart, she had already acknowledged it.
She hadn't guided him.
She hadn't hinted at anything.
She hadn't taught him this at all.
Yet he had achieved it on his own.
She lowered her gaze to the swirling wind for a moment,
then spoke in her usual calm, distant tone.
"It took you long enough…
to understand something without form like the wind."
Ryn remained silent, listening.
"…But it will do."
The words were brief.
No praise.
No warmth in her voice.
Yet to Ryn,
they carried more weight than any compliment.
The wind in his palm continued to spin calmly—
as if it, too, understood
that from this moment on,
he had truly crossed another barrier.