The plaza still vibrated with the lingering energy left behind by the Sky Family's Second Elder's demonstration.
The applause and exclamations took a long time to fade, like waves that continued crashing even after the storm had passed, a persistent echo of admiration that refused to disappear.
The sun now shone high overhead, warming the crowd's damp clothes and causing the water on the stone pavement to evaporate into thin curtains of mist that danced beneath the golden light.
The air was clean and fresh, filled with a renewed vitality, as though the very atmosphere had been purified by the elder's power.
Kyrian remained where he stood, his fists finally relaxed at his sides. His violet eyes were still fixed on the top of the Sky Tower, replaying every detail of the fan's movement and the voice that had commanded the winds.
