by Jeff Inlo
#
"This isn't right," Sy grumbled. "Storms don't come in like this. Not even in the growing season, and we're just about at dormancy. What do you make of it?"
Ryson had no answer. He'd seen nothing like it before. Dark purple clouds rushed in from the southwest, raged forward like a rabid wolf, but then halted at the very edge of Burbon. Directly overhead, a clear border existed between the clear blue sky and the angry tempest. Lightning flashed, streaked to the ground, and hit the hills which bordered the clearing. Thunder exploded, shaking buildings, and startling nearly every member of town. Gale blasts creased the hill grass. Within the center of the tumult, the billowing clouds continued to ebb and flow, to undulate like liquid in a boiling cauldron, but the storm itself ceased to move forward. It had simply stalled. Wind blown rain crashed against the hills, but not a drop fell upon Burbon's streets.
"I don't know," the delver admitted. "It's getting awfully warm. It's like a hurricane."
Sy questioned the theory. "Here? From the southwest? This time of the year?"
"I know. It doesn't make any sense."
"And why did it just stop? I've never seen a storm do that in my life. How long has it been just sitting out there? It's like it's watching us. Whatever this is, it's not natural."
"You think this is more magic?"
"What else could it be?" Sy grunted. "Where's Enin?"
"I haven't seen him."
"Blast. This has got to be something he can understand a whole lot better than us."
"I can go try and find him."
Before the delver could move, an angry voice held him in place.
"Send me the delver!" The tempest demanded.
Ryson turned pale. His vast memory linked the voice with one he had heard before. "Godson! It's Yave."
"The dwarf queen?" Sy gaped.
For Ryson, there was no doubt. "It's her."
The delver stared into the storm, stared in pure astonishment. He looked to the clouds with wonder, looked for something beyond the wind and rain which would link the tempest to the dwarf queen. He searched for an outline of a face in the clouds, but he found nothing. Only the acrimonious voice of the storm indicated Yave's presence, and it prevailed her will once more.
"Deliver Ryson Acumen to me or I will destroy everything in my path. I will kill everyone in this puny human town." To punctuate her threat, a bolt of lightning struck the ground a mere two paces in front of the south gate. The thunder clap was deafening.
The town grew still with indecision. They had seen the great power of their own wizard, they knew there was energy beyond their previous understanding, but this went far beyond their expectations. They had fought with elves against dwarves. They had seen shags and goblins, met with monsters of different shapes and sizes, but now, the wind and sky shaped itself against them. Their leader professed the simple question which set upon nearly every tongue.
"How do we fight this?" Sy groaned to himself. "We have no way to defend. This is a storm!" He put a hand to his forehead as his thoughts wrangled over useless tactics.
"I have to go out there," Ryson offered in a defeated tone.
Sy's head swung about with astonishment. "What? Are you crazy? What good is that going to do? That storm will kill you."
Ryson pointed out what was now obvious. "I'll be dead either way. If I stay here, she'll take the town apart to get to me. She's coming after me. I don't know how she became a storm, but that's what she is. I know this is ludicrous, but what choice do I have? Where am I going to hide? Look at the wind. She can sweep the land clean of every building here."
"You can run," Sy offered frantically. "You move like nothing else in the land. You can run and hide."
"I can't outrun that. I can't outrun the wind."
"No," Sy commanded. "You're not going to just sacrifice yourself. We're going to find Enin. He might have an answer."
Movement at the south gate caught both their attentions. Unthinkably, the gate swung open. A single figure stepped forward, away from the wall and into the clearing.
"Enin!" Ryson whispered.
The wizard threw off his cloak, let it flutter to the ground carried by the border winds of the storm. He folded his hands before him, and he stared blankly into the heart of the tempest.
Yave's voice bellowed over the scream of the wind. "I asked for the delver. I do not know you. You were not at Sanctum. Who are you?!"
"Your end," Enin replied softly. The whispered response was carried to the skies by the wizard’s will.
Lightning struck in response. It was meant to disintegrate the wizard, but it was forced to bend away from the lone figure. It smashed harmlessly into the clearing.
Enin's eyes glowed restless. "You have not the power to hurt me."
A howl erupted from the storm. The clouds swirled, the tempest began to surge. It threatened to sweep forward to crush Burbon in one massive thrust, but the clouds again ceased their progress, this time not by Yave's will but by Enin's.
Enin swung his hands to his head. Two circles of white power weaved their way about his wrists. He called to Yave his understanding of the truth. "You are a dwarf with no magic of your own. Your power is limited, where mine is not. You have elected to mix your essence with this storm. An unwise decision."
The circles broke from his arms. They flew upward, but they left a line in their wake, a conduit back to the wizard. The two rings expanded, encompassing the full breadth of the storm. They wrapped about the clouds and they stifled any chance of escape. Enin took hold of the trailing band, pulled as if he was tightening a noose. And indeed, the circles of white magic shrunk in size, compacting the storm.
Yave fought against the tense grip. She struggled to be free, to loose her fury on all of Burbon, but the clouds which now held her soul could not breach the harness. She felt what was left of her spirit collapsing upon itself. In a fit of rage, a barrage of lightning exploded form her core. Streaks of electric energy knifed downward with the malice of her hate. Thunder clap after thunder clap resonated into one massive burst of a deafening roar. Still, the bolts of energy could not pass beyond Enin's will. They could no more hurt him than they could strike a single building of Burbon. Each strike crashed into the hills, burned tall grass and charred dark soil, but the assault did no other damage.
Enin willed his own might upon the long line of magic. He pulled as if joined in a tug-of-war with the powers of heaven. But this was no god. This was all that was left of Yave's crazed spirit. The rings closed tighter, shrunk until they pulled the storm clouds into one compact ball. With one last pull, the circles of energy tightened into a closed knot.
An explosion lit the sky. Enin's white magic vanished. The clouds of the tempest broke from their restraints. They spread across the sky in all directions, but the dark purple began to bleed from their substance. They no longer surged with power, and there were no more bolts of lightning. That which remained appeared as nothing more than an approaching winter storm.
Ryson ran at full speed to the side of the wizard. The guards at the south gate barely saw him pass. He came to a complete stop to face his friend.
"Are you alright?"
Enin smiled lightly. "Slightly tired, a little empty, but no lasting damage."
"What about Yave?"
"She is no more."
Ryson looked deep into the clouds hanging overhead. He could no longer hear Yave's angry threats, but the clouds would not vanish. "Could she still be up there somewhere?"
Enin shook his head. "What is left in the sky is the remnants of the storm, but what was left of Yave is gone forever."
Ryson looked to the sky and watched the clouds spread to a more natural formation. He could no longer sense anything unnatural about the storm. Yave was indeed gone, and in truth, he felt more optimism than grief. He hoped this signified the end of the madness which took far too many innocent lives.
With these thoughts, the delver watched
the skies carefully. The raging purple faded away into a softer gray. The temperature dropped as the heat of Yave's anger no longer existed to fuel the storm. Any threat of lightning dissipated in the growing cold, and the last rumble of thunder faded off into the distance. The wind was cold, but now reassuringly light. With the anger of the storm diminished, the land lulled into the soundless bliss of dormancy.
"It sure got peaceful," Ryson noted.
"The dormant season is a time of rest," Enin suggested.
Ryson considered the thought. He looked to the sky and saw the light gray clouds filling the heavens. As his breath was now visible, he rubbed his hands together to warm them against the cold. He did not wish to escape the chill. He welcomed it. He also welcomed a new hope. As he earlier recalled the blessings of the harvest season, he now reminisced about the hidden joys of dormancy. He put aside his worries over goblin raids, and serps with shags. He stopped agonizing over simply surviving and considered the simple pleasures of living. Maybe the dormant season would lead to harder times, but then again, maybe not. Maybe it was as Enin said, a time of rest, a time of peace. Right now, he could not remember a more quiet time. As the frustration and gloom vanished slowly from his soul, he whispered a silent wish, a wish that was granted.
It began to snow.
A Final Note from the Author
Thank you for reading my work. I have tried to make these ebooks available in as many formats as possible. If you encounter any difficulty with the formatting, please let me know. Contact information can be found on my web site at www.sitelane.com. If you enjoyed this book, please consider my other novels, including When Do I See God? and Soul View.
Jeff Inlo lives in New Jersey, USA with his wife, Joan, and their two dogs.
