The wind blew around him, but it was not the same wind.

  This one coiled around his body, adapting to each movement.

  As if the wind itself were watching him.

  Garlan closed his eyes. He felt lightning gather in the hollow of his hands, like a heartbeat, an inner pulse. He had already mastered fire. The wind. Lightning, however, remained an unfinished story.

  Kazuhan observed him. His gaze was heavy, but not judgmental. He was waiting.

  Garlan drew a deep breath. He felt as though he could do anything—yet something was missing. A connection.

  — It is not a force you wield, said Kazuhan calmly. It is a connection. Lightning is you.

  Garlan clenched his fists, trying to focus the energy coursing through his arms. He could feel the power, but could not guide it.

  A crack of frustration split his thoughts. This was not just about control. Each time, he let the power slip, unable to draw it back.

  — Marenna, he whispered, eyes still closed.

  She approached slowly. She had never doubted him. Never. He knew it.

  — You have this within you, she said softly. I know it. You always have. It’s in your gaze. In your breath. I trust you, Garlan.

  Her support was unwavering. She didn’t need to raise her voice. Her eyes alone gave him the strength to continue.

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  Garlan stretched out his arms. He focused on the lightning. He could feel it in the air, alive with vibration. Every particle seemed to call him, waiting for a single gesture.

  But the moment he reached for it, the spark burst free—violently, an uncontrollable discharge.

  He squeezed his eyes shut. A blinding flash exploded in his mind.

  The wind whipped around him. He felt himself hurled backward, the air wrapping him like a raging storm.

  He hit the ground hard. His body still shook with the aftershock. He gasped for breath.

  Kazuhan stood over him, arms crossed, as if this were but one trial among many.

  — That is not how it’s done. Lightning is not a tool. It is part of you. Feel it in your veins. As you feel the heat of fire. As you feel the air moving through you.

  Garlan pushed himself up slowly, body trembling. But he hadn’t failed. Not yet.

  — How do I feel something like that?

  Kazuhan smiled.

  — By feeling yourself.

  Garlan closed his eyes once more. He pressed his hand to his heart. The wind blew around him, but this time he heard it differently. It was not above him. It was within.

  He waited.

  Then a shiver raced through him. A spark leapt from his fingers. Not a bolt. But a pulse. Almost human. Then another. Then finally—an explosion of blue light coiled around his arms, shaping a layer of air, a shield of energy.

  He opened his eyes.

  Kazuhan stood before him, impassive. Then nodded slowly.

  — It is not yet perfect, but you understand. This is you. There is no control. Only balance.

  Garlan lowered his arms, his mind weary but unburdened. The wind around him seemed to settle. He raised his arms again, his body sheathed in that skin of air, fragile still. He ensured he could hold it. For a few seconds. For a minute.

  He had his armor. Not the ancient dragons’ armor, but his own. Alive. Breathing.

  Kazuhan stepped closer.

  — You are not finished. But you have accepted. And that is where true power lies.

  Garlan followed him with his eyes, his arm still alive with wind and lightning. The air murmured around him now, like a call he finally knew how to hear.

  He smiled faintly.

  The road had only just begun.