"It's the wind keeping you company," Gerald carefully corrected him. "I don't make a habit of constantly spying on other people's preferences."
"...That is quite an extraordinary ability."
The young Banshee fell silent for a moment, reaching out to feel the breeze that had always sheltered him. The invisible currents gathered in his hand at the movement of his fingers. "How did you achieve this? Passing down wind as a form of protection does not conform to the natural laws of operation."
"You care more about that?" Seeing where his child's attention had gone, Gerald could not help feeling a strange sense of déjà vu. "I was actually wondering why you never considered actively controlling the wind's direction. Logically, that should be a very simple thing to do, especially with your aptitude."
That astonishing revelation had not actually taken much time from the father and son.
Ai Fanier, whose attention had been drawn away by that unusual phenomenon, now placed Bone Pen in his palm. "I have tried."
The Banshee's Bone Pen rose higher in the wind, yet the currents surrounding it did not move along their natural course. Instead, they contained some other power... Gerald quickly realized where that feeling came from.
"I see." Gerald leaned forward slightly and looked at Ai Fanier's palm. "You're using Incantation to drive the wind?"
No wonder this child had found it distasteful from the beginning.
A blessing that could sometimes not be controlled would not always bring good results.
To use an inappropriate example, using Incantation to drive the wind was like combining an Ice Peashooter with a Torchwood: it lost its own characteristics while wasting someone else's. It was the ultimate bad deal.
"Aptitude differs from bloodline. It is a far more nebulous concept, and I find it difficult to determine