This story is inspired by [this]wonderful art post.
On an ordinary day, a likewise ordinary man was climbing a mountain, and in this world and age, the elementals were still alive and well, among many other mysterious things.
The further up he got, the worse the winds and rain became, until a particularly violent gust almost pulled him off the mountain. But the man had kept a tight grip on his ropes, so he didn’t fall. Because of the added difficulty, he was more determined than ever now to reach the top, to conquer this blasted wind. In hubris and frustration, he yelled at the wind, saying it would lose, that it must lose, for when man decides it shall climb a mountain, it will happen.
Above him, the winds seemed to answer, as things got even worse. The rains that had fallen suddenly stopped, and he heard a thin voice saying, “I will have no part of this Wind. This is petty, even for you.”
But, he still kept climbing through the violently changing winds. Eventually, he reached the top, where a swirling mass of air seemed to have taken on the shape of a face with big eyes and an even bigger mouth. Sitting down to catch his breath, he could feel the fury, but he didn’t care; he’d beaten the mountain and the wind.
Wind spoke to him, “ah mortal, you have beaten me. I thought your hubris, like so many other careless words spoken by your kind, was only a jest. But now I see that you are indeed a more resilient human than most. Say, would you like to make a wager?”
The man, now realizing he was sitting before one of the Elements, understood that the voice he had heard was Water, and that this was obviously Wind. Steeling himself, he cockily said, “State your terms, Wind. I might take you on.”
Wind’s ever undulating face seemed to smile, “a lot of you humans hate me, some harness me, and others fear me. Within the span of a week, I will make it so that you like me. Because you hate me now, don’t you?”
The man nodded again, “yes, I’ve never had a fondness for wind, I accept your bet. If I win, what will be my prize?”
A gust of wind whirled the face around before it looked at him again with a smile, “I shall be your servant for as long as you live. If I win… I will have your life.”
Feeling still very angry and convinced he wouldn’t grow to like the wind, the man nodded, “then I accept your terms, Wind. Today is Sunday, we can start it on Monday.”
“Good,” the face of Wind smiled, “let me give you a taste of what having me as your servant could be like,” and with a whirl, the man found himself whisked off the mountain and returned to the outskirts of his village.
Feeling exhausted and bewildered, the man went back to his house to rest. When he woke up early to a mild, warm breeze on Monday, he got up and closed the window, telling Wind that he wouldn’t be that easily swayed.
Throughout the week, as the man did his chores, the wind would sometimes help him briefly—seemingly by accident. Each time, the man would scoff and remind the Wind that he was not a fool.
During his many daily odd jobs around the village, he would sometimes see a woman who was known as The Weaver. She would always be dressed in the finest silks and garments, and because of this, she was desired by all the men. And of course, the man had often wondered how she would be as a companion, or more. But then he’d look at her beautiful clothing and remind himself that such a woman of elegance would be a poor fit for such a simple man as himself.
But this week, in the midst of his wager, he found her sitting alone in the tavern one evening, looking forlorn and unhappy. He approached her, asking out of concern what gave her so much grief. For the next half hour, she relayed the story of how the wind seemed to have it in for her, having ripped off her sheets, torn her garments apart, and taken every opportunity to blow her tools everywhere the minute she turned her back on them.
The man thought to himself that Wind would now never win his favour. However, now that she had opened his heart to him, he, in turn, opened his to her, telling her about the encounter and wager he had made with Wind. Upon hearing this, she grasped his arm and told him to beg the Wind for forgiveness and end the wager. Shaking his head, the man said he could not, because it was a matter of honor at this point. Looking into her concerned eyes, the man offered to stay with her for the night, to be her guardian, as surely Wind wouldn’t dare do anything stupid while he was around. The woman accepted with a graceful bow, and off they went to her house.
The night was frightfully cold as the wind howled around the small house. But the fire was strong, and the winds only made it blaze more fiercely. So, together, in front of its light, they shared a bottle of wine… and well, one thing led to another. Much later, when they both lay there side by side, the man said that Wind had lost, once and for all, because his heart could now only belong to her.
Smiling at him, she gave him a kiss and said she felt the same way about him, and then she framed her face with her hands and, in a flash, lifted it off, revealing only a swirling mass of gusts inside where the rest of her head would be. “Mortal man, I have won, you have fallen for me… so now I claim your life!” Wind said.
The man was stunned at first, but then his stern look turned into a smile, and then he laughed and said, “Yes, YES, you have certainly bested me, Wind! But please, do tell me what you did with the poor woman you impersonated. I do care a great deal about her, too, even if she isn’t you.”
Wind smiled and put her mask back on, which sealed with her head as if she were just a regular woman again. Then she caressed his chest briefly, “I have always been this woman, what you desired so many years has always been me, I had already won the wager before we even started it.”
The man looked at her, perplexed, “Then why go through this whole charade?”
Wind shrugged as she smiled at him, “never trust the wind, for it is fickle and full of mischief!”