Role

Chapter 3

Nalaea sat in the middle of a small grove of trees, her eyes closed. She put
out a mental question to the spirits, "What is the nature of the storm?"

Moments passed, and the whispers of the spirits around her swirled and ebbed,
until one voice finally coalesced from the din. "Destruction! Yes! Kill them!
Kill them all!" A dark spirit. Nalaea mentally shoved it away before its icy
tendrils could work its way into her soul. She had grown accustomed to their
chattering. She deepened her trance.

"Tearing down is the pathway for true growth," came a calmer whisper. "The
storm is part of the great cycle... a lightning strike, fire, burning away of
deadfall... the forest grows stronger."

"Yes.. yess... the cycle.." the spirits danced and swirled.

Nalaea opened her eyes. The answer was much in line with her own thinking, so
much so that she often wondered if the spirits just echoed back her own
thoughts. The storm clouds gathered above her, lightning danced, and the first
drops of rain fell upon her cheeks. Her contemplation of the storm had brought
the storm to her, as usual.

She loved the storm, reveled in it. While others might find cacophonous
thunder, the smell of burnt ozone, and the cold dash of rain a nuisance, it
allowed Nalaea to focus the part of herself that lived in the physical in a
way that nothing else did. And she felt a true kinship to the spirits who
traversed the storm, who shared her own love of it. She saw herself as the
storm, in a way, one who seeks to destroy but not out of hatred or anger, but
to lay a foundation of positive growth.

Still, Nalaea felt there was much she did not understand. Perhaps it was time
to seek out the Lord of Storms himself, Lord Ergush, to study in earnest what
it truly means to be a part of the Storm.