In a wooded area of the mountains, a small house sat, isolated from the rest of society.
Outside the house, a storm pounded against the mountainside. Lightning flashed, sending numerous golden streaks across the sky, followed by bellowing thunder. The ground became muddy, the rivers flooded, and trees were struck down by lightning.
Inside the house was a couple. A woman, age 32, lay in bed. Her face was tense as she struggled against the pains of labor and giving birth. Her husband, age 34, stood beside her, firmly gripping her hand in support.
After three hours and thirty three minutes of labor, the baby left his mother's womb. Thunder and roaring wind announced his arrival, drowning out his cries. The doctor, standing at the foot of the bed, carried the baby to his parents, giving the father the first chance to hold him.
"Look Sarah, it's a boy!" Teo, the husband, announced proudly. Sarah smiled weakly in return and said, "He looks just like you."
"Aye. But he has your eyes," Teo replied.
The doctor began cleaning up the area and packing his tools and utensils. While doing so he asked, "Have you thought of a name for the boy?"
Teo exchanged a look with his wife, then looked into his son's face and said, "His name shall be Rane. Born through rain and lightning, a child of the storm."
Almost immediately after he was named, the storm outside began to settle down. It was as if mother nature had heard the boy's name, and had given her approval.