Northern's body steadied in the air, cutting through with devastating speed. Sound barriers shattered in his wake, rupturing like fragile glass as his lithe form pierced through them—an airborne javelin hurled by a titan.
The Paragon wasn't far behind. His method of flight differed strangely from Northern's, something Northern suspected was tied to his talent—its mechanics interwoven with motion itself.
Paragon Raizel moved in bursts, detonating shockwaves that hurled him forward with titanic force, each eruption propelling him across hundreds of meters before he needed to generate another.
Each time he surged forward, he momentarily overtook Northern, spearing through the sky like a cannon round. But it was only ever for a few fleeting seconds—inevitably, Northern would surpass him again.
Together, they were forces that terrified and governed the wind, though neither bore authority over the elementals of the world. They were not Luminaries, after all.