Not all lands had rivers. Some had only wind.
With rune-stabilized bearings and sky-channeling blades, the Wind Cell was born. At its heart—amplification runes powered by storm sprite residue. A controversial choice.
Priests called it sacrilege. Naturalists cried exploitation.
Sharath responded simply:
"We take nothing. We listen to the sky. We honor it with light."
When the first windmill spun without a breeze—its blades catching invisible slipstreams and sparking a bulb in the courtyard—the crowd gasped.
One old baroness fainted. When she woke, she whispered, "My daughter died in firelight. But this… this is mercy."