While the plates clinked and the remnants of their breakfast grew cold, Elrian's eyes remained fixed on Arlan, eager for clarity. "Father, you mentioned integrating the essence of the wind into my being. What did you mean?"
Lysandra snorted, waving her hand dismissively. "He was just spouting nonsense, Elrian. Probably got carried away seeing you pull off that... spectacle."
Arlan chuckled, a blush tinting his cheeks. "Well, maybe I got a bit too excited. But there's a grain of truth in what I said."
Lysandra raised an eyebrow, her skepticism evident. "Oh, is there?"
Nodding, Arlan leaned back, intertwining his fingers. "There's an ancient legend, one that even most cultivators consider a mere fairy tale. It's been passed down through countless generations, its origins lost in the mists of time."
Elrian leaned forward, captivated.
Arlan continued, "The legend speaks of individuals who, upon embarking on their cultivation journey, create elemental phenomena. This is not the usual way of advancing stages. Such individuals, it's believed, have integrated the essence of a specific element into their very souls. In your case, it would be wind."
Elrian's eyes widened, trying to process the weight of this revelation.
Arlan's gaze grew distant, as if he was seeing far-off lands. "These unique individuals are considered the chosen children of their elements. Their understanding and mastery over their specific element grow at an astonishing rate. While a regular cultivator might spend decades or even lifetimes trying to grasp an element's intricacies, these 'children' achieve that understanding in mere years."
Lysandra still seemed skeptical, but her curiosity was piqued. "And? What's the significance?"
Arlan's voice dropped to a whisper, filled with wonder and reverence. "They are said to have the potential to ascend as living gods of their element. Imagine a being who doesn't just control the wind, but *is* the wind. That's the pinnacle these chosen ones can aspire to."
The room was silent for a moment, the magnitude of the legend settling heavily upon them. Elrian's mind raced, a mix of disbelief, excitement, and trepidation. Was he truly destined for such greatness?Only time would tell.
The remainder of the morning was a quiet affair. Lysandra deftly patched up Elrian's wounds with practiced ease, the herbal remedies she applied stinging slightly but ultimately soothing the pain. As the sun climbed higher in the sky, the family retired to their respective rooms. The day's events had been both physically and emotionally exhausting, and they all felt the need to rest.
Elrian laid on his bed, the soft sheets comforting against his bruised body. The room was dimly lit, the shutters drawn to block out the harsh midday sun. As his eyelids grew heavy and sleep overtook him, his mind began to drift...
A gust of wind blew around him, gentle at first but quickly picking up speed. He stood atop a vast plain, the horizon stretching endlessly in every direction. Above, the sky was a riot of colors - blues, purples, and oranges melding together as day transitioned to night.
In the distance, a massive figure approached. It was a gigantic wolf, its fur as black as the night sky, eyes glowing with an eerie blue luminescence. Behind it, legions of legendary wolves followed, their howls echoing across the plains.
But Elrian wasn't alone. He felt the wind at his back, not just as a breeze, but as a living entity. He could sense its consciousness, its power, its desire to aid him. He raised his hand, and gusts of wind responded, swirling around him, forming protective barriers and offensive blades. The wind was not just under his control; it was a part of him.
The battle that ensued was legendary. Wolves lunged, but were repelled by fierce gusts of wind. They tried to surround him, but he would become one with the wind, relocating in an instant. Every move he made was in perfect harmony with the element, turning the tide of the battle in his favor.
Hours, days, years seemed to pass. The God of Wolves, a deity of immense power, stepped forward. The clash between Elrian, the God of Wind in his dream, and this deity was intense, a dance of power and strategy. Yet, despite the God of Wolves' immense strength, Elrian's bond with the wind was unbreakable.
As the final blow was struck, and the God of Wolves lay defeated, Elrian felt an ascension. The wind embraced him, not just as its master, but as its kin. He felt himself evolving, becoming something more than a god, something transcendent.
With the dawn's first light streaming through the gaps in the shutters, Elrian awoke. He was back in his room, the sounds of the forest outside his window. But the feeling of the dream lingered. He felt invigorated, filled with a newfound ambition and purpose. The path ahead was clear, and he was eager to embark on it.
As Elrian prepared himself for breakfast, he took a moment to sit by the window, looking out at the morning sun filtering through the trees. His reflection in the glass pane showed a young man, eyes filled with a mixture of determination and lingering uncertainty.
The vivid memory of the wolf, its eyes filled with a paradoxical blend of sadness and cruelty, played on a loop in his mind. He recalled that moment of hesitation, the split second that could've cost him dearly. Delving deep into his psyche, he tried to understand why. Was it compassion? Fear? Empathy? Or perhaps the innate human desire to understand and connect?
No matter how much he tried to rationalize it, the underlying truth was clear: that momentary connection he felt, that split second of seeing the world through the wolf's eyes, had impacted him more deeply than he had realized. It was a moment that showcased the complexity of nature, the thin line between predator and prey, the balance of life and death. It revealed to him the nuanced tapestry of emotions, desires, and instincts that make up every living being.
This realization was profound. It was a lesson that raw power and skill alone were not enough. True strength came from understanding, from empathy, from seeing beyond the black and white and appreciating the myriad shades of grey.
But with this newfound wisdom came the understanding that hesitation, in moments of life and death, could be fatal. He vowed to himself that he would always trust his instincts, to act decisively when needed. Yet, he also recognized the importance of reflection, of understanding the deeper truths that lay beneath the surface.
Elrian decided to keep this revelation close to his heart, allowing it to silently guide him. It would serve as a moral compass, a beacon of light in the darkest of times. While he would face countless challenges on his path of cultivation, this foundational truth would remain unwavering, shaping his destiny for all eternity.