By the time spring softened into the warmth of early summer, Seraphina felt the shift within her as surely as she felt the changing seasons. The air obeyed her now. What had once been wild gusts, fleeting whispers that slipped through her fingers, had become a steady companion... her own breath now mirrored in the wind's song.
It had taken months of practice, hours of concentration, and more than one exasperated session in which she had nearly given up. But she hadn't. Her persistence paid off the day she raised her hands on the training ground and felt the wind curl obediently around her, swirling into a dome of rushing air that obeyed her will rather than resisting it. She had mastered fire, water, wood, and shadow already, but there was something different... something freeing... about commanding the sky itself.
