003 | The Breath of the Mountain
After successfully imbuing the seed with the power of Water, I knew the next step of the journey would require me to harness the energy of Air. Air is the element of breath, communication, and the unseen forces that shape our lives. But how does one call upon the wind to bring life to a seed? I found my answer in the mountain peaks that loomed on the horizon, just beyond my village.
The journey to the mountains was no simple feat. The path wound through dense forests and rocky terrain, growing steeper with every mile. But as I climbed higher, the air began to change—crisper, cooler, lighter. The heavy weight of the world below seemed to lift from my shoulders, and I felt a new clarity in my thoughts. It was as though the mountain itself was whispering secrets into my ear, urging me onward.
At the foot of one of the highest peaks, I encountered a group of nomadic people who were camping in a sheltered valley. They had long lived on the move, traveling with the winds and following the rhythm of nature wherever it called them. Their camp was a scattering of colorful tents, each one adorned with feathers, chimes, and other symbols of the Air element.
The nomads greeted me warmly, and as I shared my story, they listened intently, their eyes sparkling with understanding. They too knew of the power of the wind and how it carried not just air, but intentions, prayers, and possibilities. I explained that I had come to these mountains to give life to the seed I carried, and they invited me to join them in their own ritual of Air.
One of the elders, a tall woman with silver hair braided with beads and feathers, placed her hand over the seed in my palm and whispered, "To give the seed the gift of Air, you must first give it your breath. Speak your intentions to it, not just with your voice, but with your whole being. Let the wind carry your words and the seed will listen."
That evening, as the sun set behind the mountains and the stars began to dot the sky, they invited me to join their drum circle. The drums began softly at first, like the heartbeat of the earth, steady and slow. But as the rhythm grew louder, the sound began to change. It wasn’t just the beat of the drums anymore—it was the sound of the wind, rushing down from the peaks, swirling around us in a wild dance.
I held the seed in my hands as the drumming intensified, feeling the vibrations move through my body and into the small life that rested between my fingers. I could feel the air around me growing charged with energy, each beat of the drum resonating with the rhythm of the wind. I closed my eyes and began to speak my intentions, letting the words flow from my heart and out into the air.
"I call upon the power of Air," I whispered, my voice joining the chorus of drums. "Carry with you the breath of life, the spirit of communication, the clarity of thought. Let this seed be filled with your energy, so that it may grow tall and strong, its leaves dancing in the wind."
The wind seemed to respond, whipping through the camp, lifting the chimes and feathers into a frenzy of motion. The drums pounded louder, their rhythm echoing through the valley, and I could feel the seed growing warm in my hands, as though it was absorbing the very essence of the air around it.
For hours, we danced and drummed, our voices rising in song, until at last, the wind began to quiet, and the drums slowed to a soft, steady beat. I looked down at the seed and saw that it had changed. A small leaf had unfurled from its shell, delicate and green, and a tiny root had begun to sprout from the bottom, anchoring itself in the air, as though seeking the earth below.
The seed had begun to grow.
The next morning, I thanked the nomads for their wisdom and began my descent from the mountains. As I walked down the winding path, I could feel the energy of the seed pulsing gently in my hand, its new leaf fluttering slightly in the breeze.
The element of Air had breathed life into the seed, just as the nomads had said. The power of intention and sound had given it the strength to grow its first leaf, a sign that the journey was progressing as it should. But there were still more elements to call upon, more magic to weave into the fabric of this small life.
For now, I carry the seed with me, knowing that its journey is far from over. The time will come soon to call upon the element of Fire, to give it the passion and energy it will need to grow even further.
But first, I will rest. The wind has carried me far, and the mountains have given me wisdom I will not soon forget.
–Jozwah
