The Thunder Rolls

I watched it from a balcony on the upper most floor, the coming of the approaching storm.

Thunderheads rolled inward, indigo blue interspersed with taints of gray and the occasional touch of foamy white. The storm was long, stretching at least three pasangs, all the way to the walls of AR. They would feel the wrath of the mother as well.

I can only compare it to the sandy beach of my island, the waves that roiled inward towards shore and curled under amongst themselves, crashing into the rock break, a melody created within their muse. The air was alive with a current of electricity, locks of my hair lifting around my head in a haloed static impulse.

There was a time when I felt I was a part of nature, so closely attached to the island was I. I haven’t had that feeling since I left my beloved home, no longer in touch with the innocence it once brought me.

Pillars of lightening broke through the skies towards the ground, a glittering hail of sparks falling a nearby tree with a bestial sound, while the dance of tharlarions thundered over head. I wanted so much to embrace it, be apart of it, to feel it, to touch it, taste it.. to be the lightening rod from which it breathed.

Icy rain drops plummeted downward, thick and heavy, baptizing my body and promising me rebirth, but only if I accepted the gift offered.

I ache, but it is something I cannot explain. I have no physical malady, nothing that would keep me abed, but I know something is clearly wrong with me.

I haven’t touched the cards in over two hands, even though they call out for me to do so. They beg me, they plead with me, a constant echoing of whispers in the shell of my ear. But I cannot, because I am afraid of what they may reveal, the truth that may unfold. Perhaps they only call out to me to taunt me with the fact that I am not a special slave, only.. different. In the end, I know, though they may betray me, I will not, cannot resist.