Becoming the Wind

Reyhan returned to the corridor where Sylphia was waiting. The silver bench beside her, once empty, was now occupied by a young girl—Yurelia Vellmarin.

She was talking energetically, hands moving as if sketching the story in the air, while Sylphia responded with short replies:

"Yeah."

"Seriously?"

"Wow. Cool."

Not a single expression changed on Sylphia’s face. She remained unreadable—but she was listening. That was enough to make Reyhan smile.

’You’re finally opening up, my dear.’

He gently descended like a breeze.

"My dear, Father’s back."

Sylphia glanced sideways, staring blankly at the wind she could only hear.

’Father, why were you gone so long?’ Her heart’s voice was slightly pouty.