The wind spirit's form had solidified, its presence a constant swirl of energy around Elara. The mountain had begun to heal, and with it, the spirit's power grew. It was time for the pact to be made, a covenant that would bridge the gap between humanity and the sky.

Elara stood before the spirit, her determination mirrored in the steady gaze of the ethereal being. "I stand ready," she declared, her voice carrying the strength of the mountain's resolve.

"The art of wind manipulation is not a tool but a partnership," the spirit intoned. "It requires a unity of purpose and a respect for the balance of nature."

Together, they crafted the pact, words woven with the threads of the wind. The spirit agreed to share its knowledge, to teach the forgotten ways of the Cloud Shepherds. In return, Elara pledged that humanity would honor the sky, to live in harmony with the world rather than seeking to dominate it.

The agreement was sealed with the breath of the wind, a gust that swept across the summit and down the slopes of the mountain. It was a breath of change, of hope, and of a future where the rain would no longer be a sentence but a symphony.