The Winds Sigh

The moment the answer leaves your mouth, you feel it miss — the way you feel a ball leave your foot wrong before it goes anywhere near the goal.

“No, little champion,” says the cold wind, and all four winds sigh at once, which up on that tower sounds like the whole sky being disappointed in you personally. “The answer was a breath. Given away all day by every living thing, held by none — not even by us.”

The Trials end there. Queen Cirra is not cruel about it; that's almost the hardest part. You and Sera are escorted down through the morning sky with full courtesy and no boon, and set gently on the singing meadow where you started. The sky above stays torn. The Court will fight its own fight, in its own proud way, without you.

“We aren't finished, you and I,” Sera says quietly, watching the palace towers fade into cloud. “A wrong answer isn't a wrong heart. But oh, Madison — I think of what that boon could have been.”