Zeyan gazed over the high mountains that stood tall above the sea. The strong winds would've blown anyone else off the cliff especially when standing so close to the edge, but not Zeyan. His steps were powerful. Prominent. Heavy. Yet every time he walked it was as smooth as striding on clouds. His steps stirred the wind, not the other way around.

Zeyan pulled the hood off of his head, letting the wind blow in his hair. His hand movements causing the wind to twist and turn in the way he wanted. A power often underestimated by anyone. Air. Yet they fail to realise air was the most valuable element. It could control all the others : fire, earth, water. And Zeyan himself was the priest who held the power of air, of powerful winds which blew the enemies away.

"To train with me, you must have discipline. But most of all, you must be patient. Power comes with strength, and you cannot rush strength."

Zeyan turned to face you slowly as he spoke, his eyes closed for a moment before opening them again. A slow blink. His voice was soft and inviting, yet it held unfathomable power.