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By a Tempest’s Kiss
What good can come of a girl falling in love with a storm?
The Stormdancers were not supposed to mingle with those who were of fragile flesh, blood, and bone. The laws between gods and mortals prohibited such liaisons, the blasphemy of a man or woman who thought they could tame a force of nature.
But rules were made to be broken, at least in the chaotic land of man. Gone were the days when gods were revered for their benevolence and power. In this world, men came and went so quickly — from birthing bed to early grave — that no one gambled on the mercy of the gods in their far-off realm of gold thrones and endless feasts.
And the Stormdancers — well, they were tired too. The earth had begun to fight against them, so much so that a small flame could easily stir itself into a wildfire if a Stormdancer was not careful in the ways she coaxed the winds and their fury — or their calm.
The soil began to thirst more and more. The sun rose and fell as it always did, but the heat did not dissipate. The ways of seeds growing into harvests became less a certainty as the months dragged on.
Some mortals cried out to the gods in prayers and pleas. Others turned their faces away from their faith in the divine, only to let their shrines turn into rubble and disarray. And a few thought…
