The wind sliced past Lassim as he streaked through the sky. His mastery of [Tempest Steps], enhanced by the sharp currents of lightning mana that surrounded him, propelled him forward towards his destination. Each step through the air left faint traces of his fused mana, the sparks dissipating as quickly as they formed.
High above the southern continent, the world stretched out in a breathtaking panorama. Below him lay the rugged terrain of the Shatterspires, a jagged mountain range veined with natural lightning-conductive minerals. The region emitted faint residual lightning mana, as if a prelude to the Tempest's Cradle, which lay further ahead.
Lassim glanced at his communication disc, its holographic display chiming with a response notification. Earlier that morning, he had sent a concise message to his Master, Volten, thanking him for sending Dara so quickly to heal them, and informing him of his plans to train at the Tempest's Cradle.