When I tallied the results of the genre poll, fantasy rose to the top. My thoughts drifted back to the Storm Warden series, Downpour and Stormbound Ambush, and I began considering how this character might find her place here. Rather than returning to her origins or the fall of the Storm Wardens, I turned to an earlier moment, one that could stand on its own while still deepening her story. So I dusted off my rough sketches and began shaping a tale drawn from her past.
A storm gathers slowly along the coast, not with sudden violence, but with a steady, deliberate weight that presses against the land. The sea darkens beneath the raging clouds, reflecting a sky that feels heavier than it appears, as though something within it is drawing closer rather than simply passing through. Along the summit of a cliff, the world narrows to its edge and what lies beyond.
Below, the village prepares in quiet urgency. Nets are hauled in, boats secured, and voices carry across the docks as the coming storm begins to shape every movement. It is a familiar ritual, one repeated countless times beneath shifting skies, yet there is something in the air that resists easy understanding. An undercurrent lingers just beyond sight, felt more than seen.
Above the fray, the cliffs bear witness as they always have. Paths worn by time wind toward their edge, offering a vantage point where sea, sky, and storm converge. It is a place where distance collapses, where the horizon feels close enough to touch, and where the boundary between what is known and what lies beyond begins to blur.
Excerpt of Unending Cycle
As the storm rolled in from the sea, a solitary figure stood on the cliffs overlooking the village below. The dark clouds hung above the earth like spilled ink spots on a sheet of parchment. The frail woman inched toward the swirling tempest as the wind swept across the rocky surface. Sporadic gusts bent the sparse grass flat while the crashing waves hammered the rocks below.
With a glance over the edge, the delicate figure witnessed the fishermen rushing about the docks, shouting over the rising gale as they fought to secure their boats. The woman brushed her sleeves as early raindrops slammed into the earth. She thrust her exposed arm into the nascent rainstorm.
As she waited for the rain, a small child stepped out of the hidden cavern hewn inside the mountain pass. With a brief glance along the path, she rushed to the summit and paused when she saw the stranger near the cliff’s edge. The child ducked down and peeked over the rock wall.
When lightning flashed across the horizon, the frail woman threw her hood back and spread her arms wide. A second later, raindrops fell from the black clouds, colliding with the woman’s skin. After several strained heartbeats, the bolt’s thunderclap rolled across the cliff like a herd of stampeding beasts. As another bolt pierced the sky, the child’s face rose, giving her a clear look at the figure.
The woman stood as the rain intensified and thunder moved through the craggy ground. The child’s fingertips dug into the rocky earth as she raised herself to her tiptoes. She stared out and watched the thunderstorm break around the stranger. While wind swept across the grass, it ignored the frail woman. However, with each passing moment, the woman’s appearance altered.
The child crept onto the summit. Her gaze fixed upon the woman whom the storm refused to touch. As she inched closer, the figure stepped toward the edge. The child’s eyes widened as she lunged forward, her hand reaching out to the strange woman. “Be careful, you’re going to fall!”
The stranger’s foot hovered over empty air, and she whirled around, her narrowing eyes focusing on the newcomer in the rain. She stormed across the ground, overshadowing the girl, a living mirror of the raging storm. “Identify yourself! Why are you lingering here? Don’t you realize the ferocity of what’s approaching and the devastation it will bring?!”
The child flinched, retreating half a step, her hand clutching her tattered and oversized cloak. She wiped the water off her face as she inched forward. “I’m a street urchin. And we’re a common sight in this town. But who are you that a storm itself steers clear of you? And weren’t you more fragile before you were pelted by the rain?”
The woman rose to her full height, further emphasizing the disparity in their sizes. She flowed across the rain-drenched earth and pulled the small girl off the ground and stared into her eyes with her own ragged gaze. “You’re not asking the questions.”
“My name’s Marin,” she said as her fingers probed at the grasp holding her off the rocky surface. “Are you a Storm Warden?”
“Don’t you know they’re extinct?”
“Their stories detailed how no one else could walk through storms such as this untouched.”
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