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House of Winds Chapter 15

 




Chapter 15: Fun and Loy-lity

“Hey, gang!” came a voice from behind. “Next time, take me along to play too!”

Remi Storm, looking like a teenager in her sports gear, was waving for them to wait. “She’s the only one missing!” Mistral thought with weary resignation, but to his surprise, the whole gang stopped like a freeze-frame to wait for the newcomer.

“How are you, Mr. Noel? I haven't seen you in ages.”

“I’m doing well, child! Seeing you makes me miss my own children a bit less!” Noel replied, visibly delighted to meet Remi.

“Do you still have the whistle you used to start our races? Remember? Anemo, me, Gill, and Jim, all lined up and waiting for the start... Anemo and Jim were the fastest, taking turns.”

“Oh, these allergies!” Noel said, wiping away a tear. “I still have a whistle in my pocket, want to see?” Noel opened his palm slowly, presenting a silver whistle that gleamed in the sunlight like a precious treasure.

“Is that what you used to train your pigeons, right?” Fleur asked immediately, imagining that Remi used to be a little girl like her, with scraped knees.

Remi had an idea: “Mr. Noel, what if you blew the whistle one more time? Anemo, Remi, and me... I’m joining the race too! To the turnstile!” Then she shot Anemo a mischievous grin: “Maybe now, with those shoes on your feet—and let’s face it, they aren't for sports—maybe, just maybe, I’ll beat you!”

“You're dead wrong if you think I’m running with these ‘dogs’ on my feet. I’m running barefoot!” Anemo added, immediately taking them off and sliding the dog slippers onto his hands. “Don't forget, walking barefoot is my way of grounding... I’m in my element!”

“Mon Dieu, they’ve truly lost their minds! Even Miss ‘Women Cannot Be Tamed’ is off her rocker!” Mistral muttered.

Noel blew the whistle, and the race began. Anemo, barefoot in the grass, would have reached the turnstile first, but the evening dew had settled on the pink cherry blossoms scattered on the lawn. Instead of athletics, Anemo found himself in a bizarre ballet, lunging forward but losing balance. His arms flapped wildly, launching the dog slippers right into the flower bed by the fence. He landed flat on on the grass, taking Fleur down with him. Only Remi escaped and leaned over them, laughing: “Are you okay? Anemo, are you whole in... your element?”

Anemo grabbed the girl’s hand and pulled her down beside them on the damp, blossom-covered grass.

“Let’s save Anemo! I think it’s a matter of loy-lity!” Sirocco shouted, racing toward the pile.

Mistral joined the joyful heap, just as Lady Bell, finally escaping her mistress's firm grip, came charging toward them, her leash trailing behind.

“Lady Bell, nooo! Mommy begs you, don't get dirty!” Daisy Queen gasped behind her.

But the precious Cavapoo spotted the two dog slippers abandoned in the mud. She bolted straight for them and began licking the “ear” of one: “I’m here, I’ll protect you! I’ll ask Mommy to adopt you too!”

“Bell, that’s not your brother!” Mistral called out, but the puppy kept comforting the plush dog.

Daisy was practically crying, blowing her nose into a silk handkerchief like a trumpet: “My darling, look at you! You’re covered in mud and pink flowers!”

“Mon chéri, you’re as delicious as a brownie!” Mistral called to Bell.

After a short struggle, Daisy scooped her muddy prize from the dirt: “I shall leave you! I have urgent matters!”

“See you Wednesday!” the pile shouted in unison.

As they all stood up, a deep voice cleared its throat:

“Hhhcmm! So this is how writers under pressure spend their time!”

It was the imposing silhouette of Arbalest.

“Mon Dieu, that must be Arbalest! Sirocco, getready!”

“I saved the story, but I didn't send it to him!” Aeolus whispered in Mistral’s ear.

“I don't think Anemo sent it either...”

Anemo began to stammer, Remi tried to bring the “ice” back into her gaze, and Noel vanished toward his pigeons. Luckily, Fleur stepped forward and reached out a firm little hand to Archibald Peter Stone:

 “Pleasure to meet you in person, Mr. Archibald Peter Stone! I’m the one you spoke to last, and I wasn't lying: Anemo was in a writing fever!”








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