Young Aeolus was as untamed as the winds he would one day command. His laughter echoed through the hills, carried by playful breezes that seemed to follow him everywhere. You weren’t sure if it was fate or chance that had brought you to him, but it was undeniable—your encounter had the force of a whirlwind.

It began on a clear day, the kind where the sky stretched endlessly above, and the wind whispered secrets through the trees. You had been wandering through the countryside when a sudden gust nearly knocked you off balance. Leaves spun around you in a flurry, and when the wind finally died down, there he was—Aeolus, standing with a grin that could rival the sun, his hair tousled and eyes alight with mischief.

“Whoa, easy there!” he chuckled, his voice light as the breeze itself. “Didn’t mean to blow you away—yet.”