Luma's legs ached as they climbed deeper into the hills. The path wound like a snake, circling old trees and rocky ledges. Above them, the sky grew darker—like dusk had come early.
"Why are we going in circles?" she finally asked.
Elder Ion stopped and looked at her. "Are we?"
Luma pointed behind them. "We passed that broken tree twice."
Ion nodded. "Then perhaps it's time we learned what a circle truly means."
He walked to a flat stone at the center of a wide clearing. "Sit," he said. "Watch."
From his pouch, Ion pulled out a small metal sphere tied to a long string. He spun it gently in the air. The ball danced around his hand in a wide circle.
"This is circular motion," he said. "The ball wants to go straight—but I pull it in."
Luma watched the string pull tight with each spin. "So it's moving… but being held back?"
"Exactly. There's an invisible tug toward the center. We call it centripetal force—it means 'center-seeking.' It keeps the ball moving in a curve instead of flying off."
He let the ball go. It shot away in a straight line, vanishing into the grass.
"Without the pull," he said, "it escapes. The circle breaks. Like a bird flying from its cage."
Luma looked at her feet. "I think that's how I've felt all year. Spinning. Pulled. Trapped."
Ion's eyes softened. "You are not alone in that feeling."
They stood again and followed a narrow stream, moving faster now. The land sloped downward, and the stream picked up speed. Pebbles swirled in whirlpools. Leaves floated in straight lines, then curved away suddenly.
Ion pointed. "Not all motion is the same. Some things move in straight lines—that's called linear motion. Some spin. Some bounce. Some stop and start again."
He crouched beside the stream. "And no matter how something moves, we ask: how fast? how far? how long?"
Luma sat beside him. "Like… when I roll a rock, I want to know how fast it's going?"
He smiled. "Yes. That's called speed. When we care about direction too, we call it velocity. And when the speed changes—faster or slower—that's acceleration."
She laughed softly. "So many names for just… moving."
Ion picked up a leaf and let it drift onto the water. "But motion is never just motion. It tells a story. Of where a thing has been… and where it's going."