More than anything the sky and all its citizens were free. Free in ways that no ground pounder could ever hope to comprehend. What walkers and crawlers dreamed of, fliers personified. The titans couldn't just imbue the sky the way they had done with inert stone, they needed a vessel.
By this time Humans had discovered music. Over time hollow log drums were accompanied by simple flutes and rudimentary stringed instruments. The titans took the concept of music and carved giant singing caverns filled with holes for the wind. These holes created a playful area that sang a deeply haunting tune when the wind ripped through the tunnels.
Once the wind discovered the gift, it was only a matter of filling the tunnels with energy and waiting until the wind came through in a large enough gust to be trapped in physical form.
Needless to say, no one was prepared for the raging fury of the wind's retribution. Storms tore across the planet, the result of the winds desperate attempt to free itself from captivity. Storms of such great intensity that their size and power had never before been seen, nor had they ever been seen again. In its blind rage, the wind reshaped the coast lines of the world, tore trees from the ground like fresh flowers, and wiped whole settlements from existence. None of it was enough to break the wind free.
Unlike Moun Tain who struggled against nothing more than the endless spans of quiet eternities, Ty Phune could barely stand to focus on the unbearable certainty of being physically linear. To be limited to a single direction when three hundred and sixty was just barely enough.
So the Titans sought to strike a deal. They would very nearly free the wind, in exchange for a period of service once a generation and support in times of emergency by playing 'Ty Phune's lament" on a flue of red stone. With the agreement struck, the wind was freed for a generation.
It never returned to the singing caverns again.
