Rowan gave Tremil’s question the attention it deserved.

  What is Wind? he thought, running a hand through his hair.

  The simple answer was that it was moving air. But he wasn’t just asking about the physical manifestation. It was a magical affinity, and knowing what it was was paramount to mastering it.

  He’d come to understand Fire in a way that was almost instinctual, yet Rowan hadn’t devoted all that much time to doing the same for Wind. [Feather Fall] and [Whisper Step] had come easily to him, because in essence, they were simple spells. But [Tailwind] was as complex as a Murmur-level spell got. He couldn’t brute force it.

  To learn it, Rowan needed a deeper understanding of his affinity.

  I’ve been imagining it like a force, but that feels wrong, he frowned. It’s not just moving air. And it isn’t just the force behind it.

  Rowan’s brows furrowed and [Iron Will] flared, an idea starting to form.

  “It’s flow,” he said. “Movement.”

  I’ve been focusing on the end result—speed. But not its source.

  “Wind is… motion,” Rowan said slowly, his thoughts starting to crystalize into something concrete. “It’s the force that drives everything forward. Breeze or storm, it doesn't matter. It’s not about the speed, but it’s flow.”

  Tremil smiled. “A good answer.”

  The spell flowing around his fingers grew in size. The band of rapidly moving air swirling up his forearm and back down.

  “You’ve been thinking of [Tailwind] as simply making yourself faster,” he said. “But that’s why it overwhelms you. The wind isn’t something you control. It’s something you harness, something you allow to guide and carry you forward.”

  Rowan absorbed the words, turning them over in his mind. It was such a subtle distinction—one he felt he should have been able to make on his own, but he didn’t let that discourage him.

  “If I had to guess, your Intent is too forceful. Too rigid,” Tremil continued. “Wind doesn't require a firm hand. It wants to move naturally. As you said, to flow.”

  With a flick of his wrist, the spell erupted into the air. Two spirals wrapping around each other, following an unseen current.

  “To me, it looked like you were trying to outrun your own spell. And while that might work to a certain extent, [Tailwind] isn’t so narrow. Fully mastered, it should allow you to move in any direction. A constant helping hand at your back.”

  Rowan nodded. “I think I get it,” he said, eager to try it out. “I was trying to force the spell by feeding it more mana. But all that did was destabilize it faster.”

  “Do you want to try again?” Tremil asked.

  “Yes,” he said immediately, a smile tugging at his lips.

  Rowan stood up, walking a few steps away and closing his eyes.

  I’ll leave my Intent for later, he decided. Just the change in understanding should be enough for now. Once I get the hang of it, I’ll start tinkering with it.

  He took a deep, calming breath, getting ready.

  Magic was his birthright. He was descended from a long line of Archmages, and ever since he Awakened, Rowan had torn through every obstacle in his way.

  This would be no different.

  Reaching for his Core, he drew on his mana.

  It moved through his channels with a familiar ease, but instead of rushing, he spent nearly a minute tracing the circuit.

  I don’t need to think about speed. That’s going to come whether I want it to or not. I need to focus on the motion. On the way Wind moves without me interfering.

  That was simple in theory, but executing it was another thing entirely.

  Exhaling slowly, his mind clear and focused, Rowan imbued his Intent.

  The moment he let it take shape a subtle pressure built behind him, pushing at his back like a steady breeze. Rowan opened his eyes, crouched low, and sprang forward, trusting the spell to catch him.

  For the first few steps, it worked.

  The Wind surged with him, matching his movements as he propelled himself forward without resistance. His strides lengthened, and for a moment, Rowan felt like he was gliding—weightless.

  But then it began to build.

  The flow behind him grew faster, the current less steady. Rowan’s legs struggled to keep up as the spell began to pull him forward, its power outpacing his movements. Rowan clenched his jaw, trying to adjust his rhythm, but the surge quickly overwhelmed him.

  His balance broke as his feet tangled beneath him. Momentum took over, sending him careening forward and slamming into the ground with a dull thud. Rowan could already feel the bruises forming, but he pushed himself up, dirt grinding against his palms.

  He could hear Huon stifle a laugh. “At least he’s consistent.”

  Rowan brushed the dust from his clothes.

  “It’s progress,” he shrugged, turning back to look at Tremil.

  “Better,” he said after a moment. “You managed to go further, and keep it active for longer,” he crossed his arms, a thoughtful expression on his face. “But the Wind is still trying to lead you, instead of you following its movements. You need to think less about being pushed forward, and more about flowing with the spell.”

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  Rowan nodded, absorbing the advice.

  He wasn’t frustrated—this was part of the process. Every attempt taught him something new, and he’d learned long ago that mastery was achieved by persistence.

  He closed his eyes again, resetting his mind.

  [Iron Will] flared, sharpening his focus and banishing the sting of failure. The spell wasn’t perfect, but it was improving. He could feel it.

  This time, he adjusted his Intent, refining it further.

  Guide me forward.

  It was a subtle distinction, but he could already feel the difference.

  There was a weight to his spell now, one he’d come to associate with understanding. The more of it there was, the closer he was to mastering it.

  Rowan crouched once more and sprang forward, his mana surging through the circuit with precision. The Wind caught him, pushing gently at his back. His feet moved in rhythm with the spell, each step light and swift.

  The clearing blurred around him as he gained speed, his body carried forward by the spell’s power. His heart raced in excitement as he realized the flow felt… smoother. More natural.

  But just as before, it began to shift.

  The Wind’s momentum grew stronger, its gentle push turning into a relentless force. Rowan tried to adjust his Intent, attempting to guide it back into balance, but the current slipped from his grasp.

  The surge came too fast, pulling him off his feet and sending him tumbling across the clearing. He rolled twice before coming to a stop, lying on his back and staring up at the swaying branches.

  “Consistently eating dirt,” Huon snickered, drawing a sharp gaze from Tremil.

  Rowan ignored him, pushing himself back to his feet again. His body didn’t appreciate the abuse, but he was just thankful it wasn’t as bad as mastering [Feather Fall] had been. Only this time, there wasn’t a convenient healer nearby, so he shouldn’t really push it.

  “Even better,” Tremil said, his tone approving. “Now again.”

  Rowan chuckled, walking back into position and closing his eyes.

  Mastery was a matter of time and effort, and Rowan planned on mastering this spell by nightfall.

  .

  .

  .

  “Yes!” Tremil shouted as Rowan raced across the clearing. “Sometimes, Wind leads you to your destination on curved paths! Don’t just go straight, follow the flow!”

  Rowan’s body ached from the last five hours of training. His legs were bruised and his palms bloody, but his Core burned just as brightly as before.

  “Don’t think of it as a tool!”

  He focused his attention on a rock outcropping at the far end of the clearing, sharpening his Intent.

  Unlike Fire, Wind didn’t appreciate being forced.

  His first affinity was like a beast waiting to be unshackled, but his second worked better when Rowan thought about it like a partner.

  Guide me forward. Lend me your speed.

  It wasn’t surging ahead of him this time. Instead, it moved with him, steady and sure. His feet barely touched the ground as he raced to the right, following a curved path towards his destination.

  That simple change had been the extra weight Rowan had been looking for, and as his speed increased, he felt a change come over him.

  It wasn’t the sudden, uncontrolled burst of speed he’d experienced before. It was smoother, more controlled—like the wind had become an extension of his body.

  Rowan opened his eyes, a grin spreading across his face.

  There was no stumbling anymore, no awkward imbalance—just fluid motion.

  The System notification appeared in the corner of his eye, and Rowan pulled up his spell list.

  A sense of accomplishment washed over him, and Rowan let the spell guide him back towards where Tremil and Huon were waiting.

  The boy was looking at him with a strange expression, his eyes unblinking.

  “There’s no way,” he muttered. “It’s only been a few hours.”

  Rowan would be lying if he said he didn’t enjoy the amazement on the younger mage's face. He knew that mastering a Murmur-level spell this quickly was an impressive feat. One that showcased his inherent talent for magic.

  Tremil had a similar expression, only his was more contained. He’d been watching Rowan cast for the last few hours, and he already had a certain understanding of his capabilities.

  He let the spell drop a few feet in front of the duo, the Wind gently releasing its grasp. His heart pounded in exhilaration and a wide smile splitting his face as he came to a halt.

  “That felt… amazing,” he said, turning towards Tremil. “Weird. But amazing,” he laughed, shaking his head. “Though giving up that much control for a spell to work is going to take some getting used to,” he admitted.

  Rowan doubted he’d be able to keep the spell active for long—even with it being mastered. That was something he’d need to work towards. But right now, he wasn’t worried about it.

  The System acknowledged his effort, and that was all that mattered.

  “You mastered that exceptionally quickly,” the older mage inclined his head. “Congratulations,” he said, a sincere smile on his face.

  Rowan dusted off his clothes, returning a bow. “Thank you, mage Tremil. Your guidance was a tremendous help.”

  “Please, you would have mastered it either way. I just nudged the process along.” He waved him off. “Besides, it is always a pleasure to help a younger practitioner take a step along their Path.”

  “Well, I appreciate it either way,” Rowan said. “If there is anything I can do to return the favor, don’t hesitate to ask.”

  And he meant it too. The older mage was quick to make light of his help, but Rowan appreciated it greatly. Giving out knowledge like that wasn’t common, especially to people you barely even knew.

  The insight he’d shared most likely saved him a week of experimentation. And while that usually wouldn’t have been a problem, it would have meant going on the expedition without the spell in his repertoire.

  “Does your offer to duel my apprentice still hold?” he asked, a smile tugging at his lips.

  Huon perked up immediately, an eager expression on his face. “If he still has mana, I’m more than willing,” he said quickly.

  Rowan chuckled, eyeing the younger mage.

  He was curious to see if his attitude was backed up by actual skill, or if it was all posturing. But judging by his excitement, Rowan had a feeling it was the former.

  He’d seen his fight against Killian, and now he’d seen him master a complex spell in just a few hours. Huon knew how strong Rowan was—at least to an extent, so for him to want the spar was telling.

  Rowan cracked his neck, a confident gleam in his eyes. “I’ll try to go easy on you.”