The Sage of Air

The sun lit the white walls of Azoth as if each stone carried the memory of a thousand victories. Towers bore waving banners, the emblem of the falcon above five stars rippling proudly in the wind.

Blair and Asori passed through the main gates. The city was a sea of voices and colors: merchants hawking spices, blacksmiths hammering molten iron, children darting between stalls. The air smelled of fresh bread, horse sweat, and temple incense.

Asori stopped, eyes wide.
—Wow… the bread here looks a lot less dangerous than in the mountains.

Blair rolled her eyes, though a smile escaped her.

They crossed streets and climbed marble stairs to the castle, an imposing structure of columns and balconies wrapped in vines. It was not only majestic—it commanded respect, standing like a guardian over the valley.

In the throne hall, Tifa awaited. She wore a fitted battle dress with golden adornments on her shoulders. Her bearing was regal, her red eyes as intense as Blair’s, though in them burned a mix of severity and affection.

As Blair stepped inside, Tifa strode forward, her voice like a whip.
—What in the world were you thinking?

Blair lowered her head, like a child caught sneaking out.
—Aunt, I…

—Following a hunch? A dream? Risking your life like that? Sneaking out in the middle of the night just because you thought you felt something? —She advanced in firm steps—. You could have been discovered—or worse, Blair, you could have died!

The girl pressed her lips shut, until suddenly Tifa wrapped her in an embrace. Strong, warm, desperate.

—I was so worried… —she whispered—. I’m just glad you’re safe.

Blair closed her eyes and returned the hug, a lump in her throat.

When Tifa pulled away, her gaze shifted at last to the boy standing behind. Her eyes swept him from head to toe, filled with suspicion and doubt.
—And you?

Blair turned toward Asori.
—He… is Asori.

Tifa’s stare lingered, demanding an explanation.

Asori sighed, uneasy.
—I live in the mountains. And… your niece saved my life.

Blair stepped forward, nervous.
—Aunt… there’s more.

She drew a deep breath.
—During the fight… Asori used the wind. I saw it. And this necklace he carries… —she touched the orb at Asori’s chest, staring at him— it responded to his energy.

Silence filled the hall.

—Aunt… I think Asori is the Elemental Warrior of Air, a bearer of the Orb.

Tifa’s eyes widened. She turned her gaze on the boy.

Asori raised his hands.
—Hey, wait a second. Don’t stick me with your fancy titles. I never asked for any of this.

Blair swallowed and added in a small voice:
—And also… I saved him… using the Sweet Kiss.

Tifa’s eyes flew open.
—What!?

Asori spun toward Blair, incredulous.
—You’re just blurting that out like it’s nothing?!

Blair’s face flushed crimson as she turned back to her aunt.
—It was necessary! He was dying and I didn’t know what else to do!

Tifa pressed a hand to her forehead.
—Blair… Jason was supposed to be our candidate for the Sweet Kiss. He was our trump card for the war.

The girl bowed her head in shame.

After a pause, the queen sighed, then crossed her arms and smirked mischievously.
—Well… at least your first kiss was with someone halfway attractive.

Blair nearly choked.
—Aunt!

Asori’s jaw dropped.
—Excuse me? Are we seriously talking about kisses in front of a throne?

Blair jabbed him with her elbow.
—Shut up, idiot. This is your fault!

Tifa regained her seriousness and stepped closer to Asori. Her eyes scanned him, no longer as a protective aunt but as a queen measuring a weapon of war.

—It’s true. I can see it in you. Your Orb of Air has awakened. And your Astral energy… can no longer be hidden.

Asori frowned.
—Astral?

—Your life force. It’s what feeds the Orb. And if you don’t learn to control it… Zeknier will sense it.

Asori swallowed hard.
—You mean that lunatic can… track me?

Tifa nodded with deadly calm.
—Yes. And he will.

Asori shook his head, stepping back.
—No, no, no. This isn’t my problem. I don’t care about your war, your empires, or your enemies. I just came to make sure Blair got home alive. That’s it.

Blair looked at him, hurt, but said nothing.

Tifa’s eyes burned into him.
—And you think your wishes will spare you? —She advanced, her voice sharp—. Listen carefully: Zeknier won’t ask your permission. He will come. And if you don’t learn to defend yourself, he’ll kill you. Worse… he’ll rip the Orb from your soul.

Asori’s eyes widened in horror.
—Rip… the Orb?

—Yes. The Orb is bound to your soul. But Zeknier’s darkness can tear that bond apart. If that happens, you’d stop being yourself. Your power would be his—and you’d die in the process.

The silence was crushing. Asori’s heart pounded like a war drum.

—I… —he stammered— I don’t want this.

—And I’m not asking what you want. —In a flash, Tifa struck, slamming him to the floor with a clean, effortless move.

Asori groaned.
—Seriously?! More beatings?

Tifa leaned over him, eyes glowing like embers.
—Do you understand now? You’re weak. You can’t even defend yourself. You can’t run from what you are.

Asori gritted his teeth.
—I am not a warrior!

Tifa extended her hand, serious.
—I won’t force you to fight this war. But I will force you to learn to survive. Here, we have a master who can train you. If you don’t, Zeknier will find you… and there will be nothing left of you.

Asori drew a deep breath, heart hammering. At last, he reluctantly accepted her hand and rose to his feet.

He sighed, glancing aside.
—Fine. What you say… makes a little sense. But let’s be clear—I’m not joining your war.

Tifa nodded firmly.
—That’s enough… for now.

Blair stepped closer, giving him a sidelong glance and a half-smile.
—See, idiot? It’s not all bad.

Asori snorted.
—Yeah… except now I’ve got a silver-haired princess, her scary aunt, and a necklace that won’t stop getting me into trouble. Perfect.

Blair laughed, lighter than she had in days.

Tifa escorted them through the castle halls. Their footsteps echoed solemnly.
—The Sage of Air is the only one who can teach you to control what’s inside you. He’ll show you how to conceal your Astral energy so Zeknier can’t track you.

Asori frowned, but didn’t reply.

The breeze swept strongly through the courtyard, as if it foresaw what lay ahead. Blair and Asori walked side by side toward the eastern wing, where the path to the Sage awaited.

The true trial was only beginning.

The inner courtyard of Azoth’s castle was calm. Birds fluttered between the towers, and the cool breeze carried petals from the gardens. In the midst of that serenity, the Sage of Air sat upon a flat stone. His white hair fell to his shoulders, his simple robe swayed with the wind, and his eyes seemed to gaze beyond the visible world.

Asori and Blair greeted him respectfully, though he didn’t move.

—You are the new bearer of Air? —he asked in a deep voice, his eyes barely opening.

Asori scratched the back of his neck, uneasy.
—That’s what they say. I’m still not convinced.

The Sage finally looked at him. His eyes were like ancient skies: patient, profound.
—I don’t train just anyone. I only accept disciples who bring me my favorite dessert.

Blair raised an eyebrow.
—Dessert?

The Sage nodded solemnly.
—A freshly baked green apple pie.

Asori’s jaw dropped.
—You’ve got to be kidding me.

The Sage closed his eyes again, as if the matter were settled.
—If you cannot bring me a green apple pie, you cannot bring discipline to the wind.

Asori turned to Blair, outraged.
—Are you telling me my destiny depends on… pastry?

Blair sighed, pulling her hood tighter over her head.
—Let’s go to the market.

The capital’s streets were alive with activity. Carts piled high with vegetables, stalls bursting with spices, tents draped in colorful fabrics. Merchants shouted prices, and the air was heavy with sweet, sour, and spicy scents.

Blair walked beside Asori, her hood drawn low to hide her white hair. Her steps were firm, yet her eyes wandered with a trace of nostalgia.

Asori glanced at her sideways.
—Doesn’t look like it’s your first time here.

Blair smiled sadly.
—It’s not. This was my city, remember? But… for everyone here, I’m dead.

Asori raised a brow.
—Gotta admit, you’re handling it pretty well for a ghost in a cloak.

Blair elbowed him.
—Idiot.

They kept walking until Blair stopped before a bakery stall. The scent of apple and cinnamon filled the air.

—Here —she said, pointing.

The vendor presented them with a golden, shining pie.
—Red apple pie, fresh from the oven.

Asori sighed.
—Well… red, green… what difference could it make?

Blair shook her head.
—You’ll see.

Back at the courtyard, they handed the pie to the Sage. He tasted it calmly, closed his eyes, and sighed.
—Sweet… but no. These are red apples.

Asori nearly choked.
—Seriously?!

Blair hid her laughter behind her cloak.
—I told you.

The Sage nodded.
—Come back. And don’t fail again.

The walk back to the market was slower. Asori kicked stones, frustrated.
—Am I the Warrior of Air or an apprentice baker?

Blair smiled, savoring his bad mood.
—Maybe both.

They stopped at a fruit stall, where green apples gleamed under the sun. Blair picked one up, studying it carefully.

—Do you know why I want to defeat Zeknier?

Asori raised a brow.
—Besides the obvious—that he’s a lunatic butcher who wants to conquer the world?

Blair sighed.
—Because I want my people to live without fear. I lost my parents because of him. And I know if no one stops him, all of Azoth will fall. I don’t care if they think I’m dead. My duty is still alive.

Asori stared at her in silence. Her words weren’t grandiose; they were raw. For a moment, sarcasm caught in his throat.

—You must be very lonely —he said, almost without meaning to.

Blair lowered the apple, surprised. She looked at him with a soft, wistful smile.
—Yes. But now… not as much.

Asori averted his eyes, his face tinged with red.
—Sentimental silver-haired princess… that’s new.

Blair laughed lightly.
—Idiot.

When they returned, they brought the green apple pie. The Sage tasted it, closed his eyes… and allowed the faintest smile.
—Now this is right.

Asori threw his hands skyward.
—Finally!

The Sage turned to Blair.
—You may leave. This training is between him and me.

Blair nodded, pulling back her hood and brushing her hair aside.
—I need a real bath anyway. I’ll see you later, Asori.

He grimaced.
—Great… you’re abandoning me with an old man who lives on desserts.

Blair cast him a playful glance before walking off.
—Survive, and maybe I’ll bring you bread later.

Once they were alone, the Sage fixed his gaze on Asori. His stare was heavy, as if it could pierce through him.
—She won’t tell you yet. But you must know.

Asori swallowed.
—Know what?

The Sage drew a deep breath.
—Blair… she is stronger than Zeknier. Far stronger.

Asori’s eyes widened in shock.

—But —the Sage continued gravely— there is one detail.

Asori leaned forward, expectant.

The Sage closed his eyes, and even the wind seemed to hold its breath.
—That power… does not always belong to her.

Asori’s heart skipped a beat.