The Wind Spirit's Whim
“Bayul, what's wrong?”
“…It showed up.”
“It showed up?”
“Yeah……”
Quinn lifted her cold blue eyes and followed Bayul's unfocused gaze. But there was no way she could see the wind spirit. The little spirit, for his part, was furious at having his existence noticed by Bayul.
—Ugh, seriously, why do you keep staring at me!
Apparently annoyed by Bayul's gaze, the wind spirit shouted, twin flames of irritation kindled in his eyes.
'Does he hate me?'
Unlike Innocent and Shame, this reaction was so different that Bayul was momentarily thrown off balance.
'What did I do wrong?'
That was all Bayul could manage to think.
—Hmph! Can't even remember, can you!
The wind spirit sniffed haughtily and whipped around. And the moment he did, a violent gale tore through the area.
Whoooooosh!
“Kyaaaa!”
“My kiiiite!”
Kites that had been soaring proudly just moments before were caught in the sudden gust, wobbling, tipping, and meeting their doom in droves. The children naturally burst into tears, while the participants lucky enough to be out of the blast zone cheered, “Oh yeah!” As the saying goes, the survival of competitors is a blessing and a joy to those who live on.
“Don't tell me… a wind spirit?”
Quinn finally caught on, her eyes going wide.
“Yeah, Quinn… you can start seeing him now.”
“Where is he? What does he look like?”
Why wouldn't Quinn be curious? The third spirit had finally revealed itself. Water and earth had been joined by wind. She had expected it, of course, but even so, the sheer wonder of the moment left her — uncharacteristically — overwhelmed with emotion. It would have been nice if the other friends could have heard him too, but their full attention was consumed by the kites.
“He's a young boy. About ten years old?”
The boy's short, silver-blue hair fluttered in the breeze. His most striking feature was the single long braid woven down one side of his head. His skin was white to the point of translucence, his eyes slightly upturned, and within them rested pale silver irises that seemed to hold captured light. He wore a thin silk nightshirt beneath a blue gown of the same material.
“Why did he only show up now? He seems sweet, though.”
The boy was exactly the kind of being Innocent, whom Quinn adored endlessly, would have bristled at. Naturally, she couldn't help but be concerned.
“I don't know the reason yet… and his personality…”
'What am I supposed to say?'
Right now, Bayul had nothing he could actually report. In truth, the wind spirit had only appeared before his eyes — they hadn't exchanged a single word. If anything, he was being actively disliked.
“Is he shy, like Shame?”
Since Bayul wasn't talking, it was a natural guess for Quinn to make.
—Who are you comparing me to right now!
But someone took offense at those words — the wind spirit himself. Somehow he'd heard it from far away, and he flared up in an instant.
—I'm nothing like that guy!
CRASH!
“Wh-what?!”
It happened before anyone realized. The instant the wind spirit shrieked, a furious whirlwind was born.
“Why did a waterspout just appear out of nowhere?”
Quinn looked at Bayul as if to say explain this, but Bayul was just as much in the dark. Going by the circumstances, the wind spirit had thrown a tantrum and caused the whole disaster, but the reason was completely beyond him.
All he'd done was mention Shame. Was that really enough to make someone this furious? Could the two of them have bad blood between them?
While Bayul spiraled into useless speculation, the whirlwind had already swallowed up the Hill of the Wind.
“Waaah!”
“This is a dreeeeam!”
It wasn't powerful enough to bring down buildings, but it was more than enough to ruin a kite-flying contest. The waterspout — no, the windspout — churned savagely across the hill, toppling kites by the dozens. It was sheer, utter chaos.
“O wind, be cleaved by wind! Wind Cutter!”
At that moment, a professor from the Magic Department strode boldly forward from the judges' bench. It was a daring attempt to dispel the whirlwind — and unfortunately, instead of vanishing, the thing split cleanly into two. A cold dread crept over Bayul. What if people got hurt?
'Wh-what do I do?'
Bayul was sweeping his gaze around in worry when—
“…!”
Their eyes met — his and Rayegar's, seated on the judges' bench.
'Why…?'
Strangely enough, far from being flustered, the man was smiling. While the faces of the chairman and the other professors were draining to ash, the Chairman himself — the one person who should have been most alarmed — was gazing at Bayul with the faintest of smiles.
Then his gaze lifted toward the sky. Everyone else was screaming in terror at the whirlwind, and he alone was serenely looking at one particular spot.
'Can he… see the wind spirit?'
Rayegar's gaze was fixed precisely on the place where the wind spirit stood. The boy was looking down at the ground below with a distinctly satisfied expression, clearly quite pleased with the mess he'd made.
“Bayul, this is the wind spirit's doing, isn't it?”
“What? The wind spirit?”
“So it finally showed itself, huh?”
At some point the friends had gathered around. Their kites, too, had fallen victim to the whirlwind and vanished to who knows where.
“I think I've been able to see him for a little while now.”
“Then tell him to knock it off already! What kind of lightning bolt out of a clear sky is this?! Ugh, do you have any idea how long I spent making that kite!”
Aidan looked ready to burst into tears.
“…Well, the thing is, he doesn't seem to be listening to me.”
“Huh? What's that supposed to mean?”
If a spirit won't listen to its own spirit user, then whose word would it take?
That single question was written across all of their faces.
“I think I must have done something wrong. He doesn't even seem to like me looking at him…”
“A spirit dislikes you?”
“Is that even possible?”
They had all seen how much Innocent and Shame adored and doted on Bayul. Of course everyone had assumed the wind spirit would be the same.
“But here's what I don't get — you two only met today, right? When would you have even had the chance to screw up?”
“I might not have seen him, but the wind spirit could have seen me. Honestly, I don't know either. I wish someone would just ask him for me why he's so hostile.”
He hadn't said so before, but Bayul had quietly been building confidence where spirits were concerned. He'd finally found something he was good at, and it had filled him with a quiet pride. Never in his wildest dreams had he imagined that confidence would come to such an abrupt halt at the wind spirit.
“So there's nothing we can do? We just have to stand here and watch?”
“Why isn't magic working on that thing?”
The situation had devolved into simply shielding people with defensive magic whenever things got dangerous. There seemed to be no solution until the whirlwind died down on its own.
“Well, it's not that there's no way.”
He simply hadn't wanted to use it.
Bayul made up his mind and called for the earth spirit, Shame.
'Shame, please. I need you.'
If it was Shame — the one being Bayul trusted and relied on most — stopping the whirlwind would be well within his power. He couldn't let the Academy's flagship event be ruined any longer.
RUUUMBLE!
GRUUUUMBLE!
As if he'd been waiting all along for Bayul's command, Shame sprang into action immediately. Wherever the whirlwind passed, branches and soil and boulders surged up into the air alongside it. At a glance they seemed to be caught in the vortex, but in the end, every last one of them flew straight at the wind spirit.
—So now you want a fight with me, is that it?
As the wind spirit erupted in fury, the whirlwind raged even harder. Matching it blow for blow, an entire tree was ripped from the ground, roots and all.
“Kyaaaa!”
The children's screams spread across the Hill of the Wind like a plea for the storm to leave.
—Eeeek!
Under Shame's counterattack, the whirlwind that had raged so wildly began, at some point, to slowly die down. Under Shame's relentless assault, the wind spirit had finally waved the white flag.
Shame was more tenacious than anyone expected, and his offensive was ferocious. It was like a stern grandfather scolding an ill-mannered young grandson within an inch of his life.
“Phew… it's over.”
“That damn wind spirit.”
“…Huh? Wait, whose kite is that?”
Only when the commotion died down did people notice the single kite still floating alone in the vast sky. They'd assumed every last kite had been destroyed in the chaos — but one had miraculously survived.
“Who does it belong to?”
“Whose is it?”
Students and spectators murmured among themselves. And then Bayul and his friends realized it. The owner of the one intact kite was none other than Bayul.
“What?! That shield kite — that's yours, Bayul!”
Bayul was so dumbfounded that his mouth simply hung open. He looked up once at his kite, then bowed his head and stared down at the spool still in his hand.
'I was holding onto the spool the whole time without even realizing…'
He'd been so preoccupied with the wind spirit that he hadn't spared his kite a single glance — and somehow, by some twist of fate, this was the result. He just felt dazed.
“Seems he doesn't necessarily hate you, after all.”
“…Huh?”
“Don't tell me you think it's a coincidence that yours is the only kite still flying?”
At Eli's remark, Bayul finally understood the situation he was in. That was right. This was absolutely not a coincidence. The wind spirit had made it so.
'And here I thought he hated me…'
“Congratulations anyway, Bayul. One way or another, you're this year's winner.”
By tradition, the victory in the kite-flying contest went to the owner of the strongest and most spectacular kite. Under normal circumstances, Bayul's plain old shield kite would never have won — but right now, it was the only kite left in the sky. There was nothing left to judge; his win was sealed.
“For the first time in Carrington Academy's history, a first-year champion has been crowned! Student Bayul von Randert, please come up to the stage immediately!”
While Bayul stood there bewildered by the sudden turn of events, the announcer's voice cut across the Hill of the Wind. Even with everything in shambles around them, he seemed determined to bring things to a close somehow — if nothing else, for the sake of the spectators.
Bayul climbed the stage as if his feet were being pushed from behind. Going through this in front of the entire student body was enough to make his head spin.
“Congratulations on your victory.”
Rayegar smiled brightly and handed Bayul an envelope holding the prize money. The Academy Chairman beside him made a big show of playing along.
“Oh, how delighted Duke Randert will be when he hears this news! A new student taking the championship — truly a remarkable day!”
“…It was just luck. With my actual skill, I never could have won.”
“That's true. You've got that filthy temper to thank, really.”
“…Um, Chairman? What do you mean, a filthy temper?”
While Bayul flinched, the Chairman tilted his head and asked on his behalf, and Rayegar gestured toward the Hill of the Wind as he answered.
“The wind. I'm saying that nasty little thing is the only reason Bayul here got lucky.”
“Ah, well, that much is true. This is a place where the wind blows hard at the best of times, but I've never seen it rage so viciously as it did today.”
“It has a filthy temper by nature. That's all.”
“…Pardon?”
“I've handed over the prize money, so my work here is done, yes?”
“Ah — yes. Yes, of course.”
“Then I'll be off. There are a few people I need to go see.”
Just as the Chairman turned to leave, he suddenly leaned in close and whispered into Bayul's ear.
“Congratulations once more. Take good care of yourself.”
“What do you…?”
Bayul asked again, not understanding — but the Chairman was already making his way down from the stage.