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Beware the Sea and Fog
Once, they had been worshiped as gods.
Nights like these were made for the magic that sang through the sea breeze. Senna let the shore tide brush against her feet, the cool water feeling like the touch of an old friend. Basking in the ocean’s calming lull was a past-time she relished.
Far off, she could see a slow rush of clouds along the horizon. The lighthouse on the cliff beamed across the landscape in a way that reminded her of searching in the dark for meaning but finding everything wanting. Senna herself knew that feeling well.
When the waves grew choppy and frantic in their beat against the shore, she retreated to higher ground. Yet her eyes were ever on the soon-to-come storm that might disrupt her life for a time. The weather had been a challenge in the ways it stole from the coastal people — the same people Senna had been sworn to protect ever since her mother had died, leaving behind a hole Senna often felt she could not fill by her lonesome.
Rare were the times when spell books or enchantments worked against the force that was nature, but that hadn’t stopped Senna from trying. Oftentimes she would kneel against the dirt, her hands together as if she were praying, from inside a circle concocted from dry herbs and dead flowers. Sanctity meant little to people these days, but superstitions…
