Liam takes a deep breath and tries to recall the feeling from the night he turned the rainstorm into snow. The rain that resisted at first. The thunder and lightning that threatened him. The wind that blew hard against his face. And then came the cold.
It had felt like a friend that night. Welcoming him, wrapping around him like a hug. Right now, it is bone-biting, and the wind is howling at full force.
He lets himself fall into it anyway. He accepts the cold as if he belongs to it, blending into it the way he did before. It happens smoothly, almost naturally, and a small smile finds its way to his lips.
The snow recognizes him. The element welcomes him, settling around him as though it has been waiting for him to show up. As though it expects him to take its side against the mages trying to subdue it, like children running to tell an adult about another child's bad behavior.
Liam cannot help a faint chuckle.
Happy.
Content.
