The first accusation came from outside the clan.
A merchant caravan arrived late, battered and shaken, its guards pale and unsteady. They spoke of a road where breathing became difficult, where the air itself resisted entry into the lungs.
No void field had been detected.
No poison.
No curse.
Only pressure.
Vale listened from behind the elders' screen as the report was delivered.
"They couldn't breathe," the merchant said. "It wasn't choking. It was as if the air refused to belong to us."
The phrase struck too close.
Breath was taken.
Vale felt his Aether Ring tighten.
That night, whispers spread.
The Covenant's observers labeled the phenomenon immediately.
The Breath-Stealer.
A new anomaly.
Potentially lethal.
Subject to nullification.
Vale stood alone on the clan's upper terrace, feeling the night air pass across his skin. It moved gently, harmlessly, but something within it felt attentive.
"I didn't intend this," he said quietly.
The air did not respond.
Yet.
Rin approached from behind.
"They're reframing it," the elder said. "If they name it as murder, they can justify eradication."
Vale nodded.
"Gale's authority over air meant he could deny it," Rin continued. "But denial was not his goal."
Vale exhaled slowly.
"Taking breath is not killing," he said. "It's reminding."
Rin did not argue.
Reports multiplied.
Villages experiencing sudden pressure changes. Beasts collapsing without wounds. Void units dispatched, only to find nothing to suppress.
Fear followed naturally.
"They don't understand wind," Vale said. "So they call it theft."
Rin's voice hardened. "And theft implies ownership."
Vale looked up at the sky.
Wind had always been free.
But freedom frightened those who believed control was synonymous with safety.
"If I move openly," Vale said, "they'll escalate."
"If you don't," Rin replied, "they'll define you."
Vale was silent.
Somewhere beyond the horizon, the Covenant adjusted its response.
And the name Breath-Stealer spread faster than truth ever could.