Every month, I sift through countless images in search of those that spark the right kind of fire. I am looking for an image that doesn’t just look interesting, but whispers a story waiting underneath. Sometimes that spark is subtle. Other times it hits like a hammer. This time, it was the latter. I found a figure wreathed in lightning, standing alone against gathering a group of would be assailants, and instantly Amelia, from Downpour, stepped back into my thoughts as if she’d been waiting for the right moment to return.
There’s something about a quiet day under a wide, blue sky that lulls the world into believing it’s safe. Sunlight smooths the rough edges, the breeze carries away old worries, and even the cautious let their guard slip. It’s easy to imagine peace in a place like that. Easy to assume that trouble always gives warnings such as dark clouds on the horizon, a shift in the air, a distant rumble reminding you to prepare.
But storms don’t ask for permission to appear, and power doesn’t wait for the sky to darken. In Amelia’s world, danger is often quietest right before it strikes. A calm path can bend toward conflict without a whisper. A warm breeze can mask something far colder approaching. And sometimes, the most peaceful days become the ones where you learn exactly what a Storm Warden truly is.
As the sun’s rays suffused the world, Amelia sauntered through the tree-spotted field. It was the type of day that transformed storms from the inevitable force of nature they were, into nothing more than myth. The sky stretched out, bright and blue, while the sun’s warmth beat down upon Amelia’s shoulders as she ambled along the dirt path away from the village. As she neared one of the trees, its leaves rustled in the clean and cool air.
Amelia did not flinch when a brigand emerged from a nearby tree. Her eyes narrowed as she paused mid-step. “You don’t want to start anything with me.”
“Oh,” said a man who seemed to appear from nowhere. He wore a green cloak covered with silver sigils. “Given your unique abilities, we’re quite certain of our intentions.”
Amelia turned her head and found four more men nearing, bearing clubs, iron hooks, and thick ropes intended to bind her. She took a deep breath and released it through her nose. After banishing the abrupt flash of anger from her face, she focused on the one who spoke. “Are you sure about ruining such a beautiful day over nothing?”
The man wearing the ornate cloak laughed as he took a prideful step forward, lifting a finger. “The day’s serenity provides us the perfect opportunity to remove you. We are aware of your abilities and what that means if we were to strike you during a downpour.”
He took another step closer to Amelia, the silver thread sparkling with a metallic sheen in the sun’s light. His smile widened as he leaned forward, his eyes twinkling from something other than the bright sun. “Storm Wardens are at their peak during a storm, much like the one that blew by a few days ago. But today? The sun’s shining down, meaning you’ll bleed just like those standing before you.”
Amelia rolled her head as her hands ran up her upper arms. “Who told you that drivel?”
“It’s what has been passed down from those who battled your kind.” The mage’s smile widened as he tilted his head and flicked two fingers.
As the remaining men rushed forward, Amelia closed her eyes and pulled her hands together, touching her fingertips. In response to her actions, between heartbeats, everything seemed to fall still. The gentle breeze died, and the temperature seemed to drop several degrees. When she opened her eyes, time rushed forward, and a single raindrop thundered into the earth.
The rushing figures stopped, and the leading individual raised his hands, his weapons dangling from loose fingertips. “It isn’t even cloudy—”
The sky blackened. As far as everyone could see, clouds manifested like ink spilled across the sky. Wind tore through the field, howling like wolves stalking prey. The bandits stumbled back, terror clinging to their eyes.
Amelia’s lips curled into a smile as she stepped toward the mage. “I was seeking to leave your village in peace. You shouldn’t have interrupted my departure.”
Lightning split the sky, and before her next heartbeat, thunder punctuated her words. As more strikes flashed across the darkened sky, the rolling response sounded like an old friend clearing his throat. A second later, rain swept the earth.
The mage’s expression darkened as he widened his stance, defiance filling his gaze. He thrust his palm out, hurling a bolt of lightning at her. As the violent, crackling white bolt of energy raced across the field, Amelia lifted two fingers. The energy swerved from her chest and coalesced around her outstretched fingertips. A second later, the energy spread across her body, coating her in eager, buzzing lightning. As the cries of the assailants complemented the storm’s symphony, Amelia’s back straightened. Her gaze slid back to the mage. “Thank you, I needed that.”
The mage’s calm faltered for a moment before he joined his fellows, inching away from the menacing Storm Warden, her body wreathed in electricity.
Amelia inhaled, and the lightning coating her intensified. Her hair lifted off her shoulders as static filled the air. A bolt raced from a cloud and joined the energy wrapped about her.
“How?”
“It’s a secret our kind guard above all else. We can summon storms when we’re desperate.” The storm wrapped her in ropes of brilliant blue lightning, coiling about her arms, waist, and shoulders like affectionate serpents. Rain sizzled as it neared her skin.
The mage’s eyes widened as he thrust a finger at the lightning-clad figure. “Attack her, you fools!”
Amelia spread her arms, and a ring of lightning erupted outward, slamming into the men behind her, dropping them and removing them from the fight. She thrust a hand toward the other brigand, and more lightning lanced into the man’s chest, forcing him to the ground. She turned to the mage, finding another bolt already racing toward her face.
However, without effort, the sky plucked the bolt from its path, pulling it away from her and into the growing vortex hovering over Amelia’s head. Her eyes fluttered as she inched closer to the solitary figure cowering before her. “You poor little thing. You thought that bolt was yours.”
Thunder blanketed the field, agreeing with her words.
The energy receded from her hand as she hooked a finger under his chin. She leaned in, lowering her voice but keeping it above the crackling energy coating the rest of her body. “Walk away. Tell everyone you meet that clear skies are not safe from those who control the sky’s fury.”
The mage swallowed hard before he flinched and bolted away, forgetting those whom he commanded.
Amelia sighed as the tempest unwound itself. With a lazy wave of her hand, sunlight punched through the clouds as the rain faded into mist, and lightning dissolved into harmless sparks. After several moments, the clear day finally returned.
Amelia brushed the scorch mark from her sleeve as the last of the lightning covering her vanished. “They should’ve considered the nice weather to be an omen rather than an invitation.”