"This is amazing!" Tia repeated, her green eyes glassy beneath her chestnut brown fringe. Mommu found himself dragged into the mob surrounding a flashy stage. Like all the shows he had been forced to attend so far, these were no different: raucous music, sleazy men doing quick-handed tricks to appease the crowd, beautiful scantily-clad women doing exotic dances or suggestive, provocative gestures, wild woops from the people around him. A general sense of unease fluttered in his chest again, but as always, Tia was oblivious to anything beyond the pretty exterior.

Like Tia, he had never seen anything like this before. Unlike Tia, such flamboyance and riches was making him uncomfortable. Perhaps it was Enlil's dark presence next to him that was keeping him from being swept away by the frivolity. Where did all this money come from? And where did it go afterwards? Money appeared to flow like water. Coin after coin was being tossed onto the stages or into the hats of the performers after a show – even though some of the people doing the throwing were dressed in nothing more than rags or soiled tunics.

The beauty and charm seemed so superficial all at once. He tightened his grip on the food Tia had made him buy a few minutes before: some sort of roasted meat on a wooden stick, covered in honey. It was sweet and savoury, unlike anything he had eaten before. Tia had loved it and would have ordered several had Enlil not stepped in and made her relent. He took the last bite and tossed the stick away, hoping against hope that he was not following his rambunctious partner into more trouble.

In this particularly flashy venue, the women in their flimsy dresses danced around a man who came through from under the stage on a slowly revolving platform. Some kind of grey smoke billowed around his feet as he surfaced. Dressed in a sparkling overall and a matching high hat, he was every bit the dapper, charming gentleman with his cleanly-shaven chin and slick, gelled-back hair. He spun a wooden stick in his hand – no, it was not a stick. Mommu recognised the patterns engraved all the way along its length.

This man was also a Windcaster.

Tia breathed a sigh of pleasure and anticipation.

The Wind began to gather at the base of the Caster's staff, swirling in a neat, small swirl and increasing in speed. At the man's feet were five wooden bowls, covered by a thick plank of wood. The hairs on the back of Mommu's neck rose.

The man's face was grim with concentration, his shoulders tense as he tightened his grip on his staff. The wind concentrated in its flow and quickened. His beautiful assistant sauntered on and swiftly removed the lids to the bowls. Each contained a pile of coloured dust in blood red, shining gold, forest green, ocean blue, and glittering silver.

He stood perfectly still. The crowd quietened, their breaths held and eyes fixated on the five bowls. He had the Wind wholly in his control so that it spun in a perfect, enclosed area. They could see the dust and leaves it was gathering up but they could not feel its power.

The Caster gently dipped the tip of the swirling wind into the first bowl. The small tornado immediately turned blood red, spinning rapidly but retained immaculately within the force. Sounds of awe rippled through the mass of people. He sat the twister in front of the red bowl. A second one formed and dipped into the gold dust, turning a glimmering shade of bright yellow.

At this point he stopped. Tilting his chin upwards but not letting his gaze avert from his creations, he directed them upwards so the two squat tornados stretched and thinned like baking dough. The rapidly spinning metallic dusts reflected specks of light, sparkling in the setting sunshine. He spun them together, keeping the dust particles carefully in their respective currents but allowing them to dance together in a beautiful spectacle of colour. All of a sudden, a third cyclone joined them, a dark blue jet weaving in and out of the red and gold, followed by the forest green and then the glittering silver. They took turns rushing around the Caster, chasing each other across the air in front of the onlookers like birds, circumnavigating in pairs and then spinning rapidly as a group so that the flashes of gold, silver, red, blue and green cast rays after rays of dazzling light from the sun. The gorgeous beams dazzled everybody. Even Enlil could find no scathing comment to make.

The discipline being displayed was incredible. Not a single particle of air was out of place.

At the peak of the dance, the performer made the five twisters collide together and exploded in an array of beautiful colours, glittering and reflecting the last of the rays as the sun disappeared behind a high building. The spectators cheered wildly, Mommu and Tia amongst them, cheeks pink from exhilaration and eyes sparkling in excitement. The man took a sweeping bow, his tall hat covered in the glitter, and disappeared as the same smoke that had accompanied his entrance billowed out of nowhere.

Tia swept the glitter from her fringe, panting.

"That was spectacular!" she exclaimed. Mommu nodded, mute and stunned. "I did not realise Casters can do all these shows too!"

"They should not," came a familiar deep voice, sounding stern.

The three of them turned as the crowd thinned. Lanterns began to light along the street they stood, bathing the area in a warm yellow glow. Street windows reflected the flickering lights. The temperature began to drop as night set in.

Master Anu stood in front of the three youngsters. The light from the oil lamps threw shadows across his lined face, making his wrinkles appear deeper and adding several years to his age. His pale blue eyes stared balefully at his two trainees, who shuffled their feet uncomfortably. Mommu knew he was disappointed in them for cavorting with frivolities.

"Windcasters are those who are gifted with the Wind and are duty-bound to use those for the good of the people." He sounded reproachful. "The Singing, Hearing and Casting should never be for personal gain. People like these are not Casters, but merely mages. They serve no purpose beyond entertainment, like a trained animal taught to dance on its legs."

"But they have such discipline, Master." Tia ran to catch up with the old man as he made long strides back to the inn. "Surely they must also have trained for many years. They must be great Ca–users of the Wind themselves to be able to manipulate the Wind so effectively."

The old Caster said nothing for so long Mommu wondered if the Master had taken offence to the girl's words.

"Mages are often misguided and lost Casters, Tiamat," he said at length. "In Kiramone, they serve no purpose beyond attention-seeking showiness, which grants them no passage in life. They are a disgrace to use such talents for entertainment and nothing else."

"What does an old man like you understand about fun?" Tia scowled. There was a grave but almost sorrowful look in the old man's face.

"It is not a path I wish for you or Mommu, Tiamat. The entertainment world is a very dark place and many souls do not return, Casters or otherwise. Please trust me on that. Promise me you will not seek such frivolities again."

"When I grow up, I'm never going to be like you -- all work and no play, stuck to boring rules!"

"Tiamat." His eyes bore holes in her soul.

"I promise," she said in a sullen voice, with a pout. Mommu gave her an anxious look. The guilt in his chest was heavy. He should have known better. Tia was the impulsive, thrill-seeking one. He should have made her stay back at the inn.

"We are sorry we disappointed you, Master," he said, his eyes downcast. Master Anu shook his white-haired head with a small smile.

"It is a phase we all go through." They had reached the inn. Enlil moved forward to push the door open for the Master. "A glamorous city like Kiramone is very attractive to many people. It is only natural to feel so captivated by its brilliance."

"Can I help you with anything, Master Anu?" wheedled the fat innkeeper, Lahmum, wringing his sausage-fingered hands. The Master shook his head again.

"No, I think I will retire for the night. My trainees may require some food though, Mister Lahmum," the Windcaster added, nodding over his shoulder. The three young people avoided the venomous look the greedy innkeeper gave them. "Please bring them some bread and hot soup to their room."

"Of course, Master Anu," Lahmum replied in a greasy voice.

"Rest well," the Master said as they reached the top of the stairs. "We are meeting with Master Enki on the morrow."

"The Windcaster of Kiramone?" Tia perked up. It would be the first time they had met another Windcaster. "He requested for our presence? Will he have apprentices too?"

"He did." Master Anu grimaced, and then sighed. "And he has one. A boy, I believe. I bid you goodnight."

"Goodnight, Master Anu," chorused the three.

"Tia." Mommu hesitated, wondering how she would react. They sat on the beds. Tia looked at him inquisitively, her green eyes still bright from the events earlier. She kicked off her leather boots, rubbing her toes. "Today, with that woman in the show, you did not..."

"Did not what?" she said. There was the teasing tone in her voice again. Mommu bit his lip, unsure as to how to proceed without sounding accusatory. He gave Enlil a desperate look. The slave rolled his pale eyes.

"Mommu wanted to know if you had changed the course of that knife with Wind."

"Enlil!" Mommu's stomach did a somersault. Tia didn't seem perturbed in the slightest. She gave a little cheeky grin as she swung her legs from the bed, her head tilted to one side.

"I think I did," she said slowly. Mommu's jaw dropped. She shrugged. "I tried to use Wind without my staff, just like that Free Style Caster we saw today. I do not know if the knife was my doing. Maybe he did miss."

"But–"Mommu's eyes nearly bulged out of their sockets. She was talented, he knew, but to be able to replicate such advanced art after just observing it? Impossible. His words were interrupted by a brisk knock on the door. Enlil rose to open the door. The young boy from earlier that day stood outside, his body hidden beneath the large tray of food held precariously in his two small hands.

"Here you's are, sirs and miss," he said brightly, holding up the three steaming bowls of soup and three thick slices of hard bread. "Enjoy."

"Did you cook this too?" Mommu couldn't help but ask. The boy's bright eyes laughed.

"Of course, sir, Mister Lahmum only has me to 'elp around 'ere!" He winked. He then bobbed his head respectfully. "But excuse me, sirs and miss; I must go to bed now. I rise early to cook breakfast for the guests too. Good evening!"

With a little bow, he ran off, his little head disappearing quickly down the stairs.