The Wind's Daughter
Nyra Windshadow stood at the edge of the cliff, where the land dropped away into thick white clouds. The morning mist clung to the edges of her long black dress, whispering secrets through its folds. Below, the valley lay in a soft green hush, taking the first few breaths of spring in this part of the world. It looked far warmer and more colourful down there, a big contrast to the gray mountains surrounding Nyra. The wind carried the scent of tea trees, wildflowers, and something older, something she hadn’t smelled in years. Or perhaps she had simply never allowed herself to truly enjoy all this.
Behind her, the roof of Windshadow Academy rose like old teeth from the earth, dark stone and aged wood kissed by time. The building blended almost seamlessly into the mountain range, perfectly camouflaged except for its red rooftop. Windshadow Academy had been hidden from the ordinary world for centuries. Only witches and wizards from certain bloodlines and clans knew of its existence, and only a select few young students were ever accepted to train within its walls.
Nyra herself had once known nothing of the Academy, not until the precise moment she was meant to. Seven years ago, she had been searching for her mother, Kaia, who had vanished without a trace when Nyra was just ten. She had spent five long years on the road, questioning strangers, shadowing those who might have crossed paths with her mother, turning over every stone and still finding nothing. But on the night she turned eighteen, she discovered that her mother had once been trained at Windshadow Academy. And not just that, her own surname held the final clue. The Windshadow name wasn’t just a legacy, it was a bond. Her great great grandparents had founded Windshadow Academy.
Nyra had lived here for seven years now. First as a student, desperate and angry. Second as a witch in her own right. Then, lastly, as an heiress of this place which she would rather not be. She would learn the truth behind the sigils in her mother’s handletters, the reason Kaia had to leave her husband and her own child, the legacy that had been left behind like shattered glass. Today, Nyra took on another role, a teacher, though the title sat strangely on her tongue. She still felt like a child with so many unanswered questions. But she would have to begin training young students staring from tomorrow. All these seven years had been both a blessing and a curse. Nyra had reached level four in her wind magic training, something she would never have achieved if she hadn't been here. But her other burning desire was to find her mother. Being an heiress, and now a teacher, trapped her here.
She had come to the cliff, as she often did, to listen. Not for sounds, but for silence. The kind that would calm her inner storm. The kind that would carry answers.
Nyra had buried her father with her own hands. She had buried her mother in memory, built a life around her parents’ absence for over a decade. She had become stronger. Not despite her grief, but because of it. Yet here it was again. As long as she knew her mother was still alive, the feeling would never leave her. She could sense it in her bones, in her skin, in every whisper of the wind.
She stepped back from the edge and closed her eyes. Just like when Kaia taught her how to communicate with the wind's spirit for the first time when she was five.
The wind curled around her like giving her a big warm hug. A name whispered.
“Jin.”
Nyra froze.
That name had not been spoken aloud in years. Not since the night her father and all others in his family was murdered. Everyone except her.
Zarek Jin.
Her late father. The head of the Jin’s family. The former chief of Longstone.
"No," Nyra breathed, her voice lost in the breeze. "He's gone. All the Jins are gone."
Nyra's heart, long hardened into something steady and guarded, gave a single tremble. Her forefinger lifted, intentionally drawing the old sigil of seeking in the air, the way Master Kai, her uncle, had taught her.
A soft glow answered from within the cloud just ahead.
“Jin.”
Nyra read the word aloud as the characters formed before her eyes.
Behind her, in the academy, Master Kai would soon summon her for training on how to support the younger students. Four young witches and wizards at the age of fifteen just arrived one week ago waiting for the new semester to start. It was part of the vow she had made when she joined the academy. Ten years of training, and in the final three, she was to guide the young students.
But Nyra didn't feel like returning. Not now.
Not when her father's family name had returned to the wind.
She closed her eyes and let out a deep sigh. Then, something clicked.
What if her mother was searching for the one who had killed her father? Would Kaia even know that her husband was dead?
It wasn't the first time those questions had arisen for Nyra, but this time, something felt different. Nyra knew that these questions would remain unanswered forever if she didn't take action.
After the mass murder of the Jin family in Longstone, the town had never been safe for Nyra. She hadn't returned since. There had been a time she wanted nothing more than to hunt down that monster to take revenge for her father and his family.
But she had been too afraid.
Afraid that whatever had killed her father and everyone in the house that night was searching for her too.
But the greater fear what that her very existence had caused their deaths.
Now, the wind had called her.
And the Wind's Daughter had to answer.
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Words from the author Sierra Truong:
"I wrote this short story on a rainy April morning, at the start of our colder season here in Auckland. What I’ve found is that writing fiction on a day like this feels incredibly cosy and fun.
I grew up disliking cold and wet weather (obvious for a person coming from a tropical country like Vietnam). But over time, as I grew to love writing more, I also grew to love this kind of weather.
Nyra Windshadow is a character I’ve redesigned many times, again and again, until I finally felt ready to share her with the world. One day, I hope to gather all these short stories into a fantasy novel. But for now, I simply want to write and share her life and adventures for the joy of it.
An illustration of her with her white spirit animal "Bailong aka White Dragon" is featured in my colouring book Sacred Presence.
I hope you enjoy this story.
Sierra x"