The moment of softness, a shared vulnerability, was gone. It dissolved like mist under the morning sun, replaced by the familiar friction of instruction and effort. For Eirin Luxfield, it was hardship once again, though now infused with a strange, developing satisfaction. She stood opposite Shade Cromwell, the back of the library her makeshift training ground, the wind swirling around her in increasingly controlled gusts.
"You're doing well."
Shade's compliment felt like a rare jewel. Eirin could feel her face heating up in embarrassment, a rosy blush, creeping up her neck, hearing Shade Cromwell's approval.
'I don't know how, but ever since I drank that bitter tea, it became easier to control the wind,' she thought to herself as she stared at her hands, watching air currents obey her silent command with surprising fluidity.
"I should say your teaching method is great," Eirin said, a huge, genuine smile blossoming on her face as she gazed at Shade.
