As days passed, the signs of an imminent storm were impossible to ignore: gray skies, a somber shadow over the village, and waves, which once had been so gentle, were restless, crashing onto the shore with a force that seemed to echo a warning.
She watched, with tension filling the air, from the edge of the cliff. It would seem that with each passing day, her connection with the ocean grew anew. She could have sworn that even the very tides were speaking to her-preparing her for something. Beneath the soft whispers of the ocean, though, was something else beneath-a darker presence, an ancient something stirring in the bottom, and the energy of it ran a chill down her spine.
One afternoon, she was walking along the beach when she saw Roran standing and watching the violent waves. His face was solemn, and his eyes were shaded with concern where they were usually bright. He nodded curtly at her the moment he saw her; the gesture was an invitation for her to join him.
"You feel it too, don't you?" he said without formality.
Emma nodded. It was as though they were both touching some sort of strange unease in the air. "It's… it's like something's out there, something powerful."
Roran's jaw clenched. "The elders think it's just a storm. But I can sense there's more to it." He looked at her, and she saw the same fear she'd felt reflected in his eyes. "There's a darkness in the water, something that shouldn't be there."
Emma shivered; his words fell heavy over her, like an anchor. She, too, had felt that darkness lurking beneath the waves, and she knew it would only get stronger. Her part as the guardian of the ocean was becoming all too real; the stakes mounted with each passing day.
They slid into silence, each lost in their own thoughts as they stared out to the churning sea. Then Roran turned to her, softening a fraction. "I know you're new to this, but you need to be careful, Emma. Whatever this darkness is, it's not something you can handle alone."
Emma would have wanted to argue, to insist that she could do it on her own, protect the village. But deep down, she knew how right he was; the ocean's secrets were big and dangerous, and she was only beginning to understand her own powers.
Later that evening, she sat on her bed, the weight of her responsibilities settling over her like a shroud. Torn between two worlds-one simple, the one she had always known, and one mysterious and powerful, into which she had been pulled-and no matter how she tried to rid herself of those doubts, deep down, one little voice was asking if she would be strong enough to protect the people she loved.
As the storm drew closer, Emma's nights started to become restless. In her sleep, she had whirlpoollike visions of the bottom of the ocean, tenebrous forms moving through the water, and a voice that called her name-a voice which sounded disturbingly familiar yet was hauntingly strange.
In one dream, she is standing at the shore, watching as the waves mount ever higher and then break onto the rocks with a kind of fury almost alive. She felt the darkness approach, creeping toward her with cold relentless force, and she knew that she could not get away from it.
She awoke abruptly, her heart racing in her chest. The room was quiet, but the after-vibrations of the dream still clung to her, casting an umbrage over her that she couldn't seem to shake off.
Desperate for answers, she set out at dawn the next morning to find Roran. She found him near the cliffs, studying a length of driftwood that had washed ashore. It was blackened and charred, as if touched by some unnatural fire.
"This storm… it is not just any storm, is it?" she asked, her voice barely louder than a whisper.
Roran shook his head. "I don't think so. Whatever it is, it's powerful-more powerful than anything we've faced before."
Emma took a deep breath and steeled herself. "Then we'll face it together."
Roran looked at her, relief and determination etched on his face. "You're not in this alone, Emma. We'll figure out a way to stop it.
The succeeding days brought nothing but building, threatening storms over the village, and the villagers were anxious at whispered strange occurrences that seemed to accompany the storm's approach: huge tides, eerie lights on the horizon, and even an inexplicable feeling that something darkly waited beneath the waves.
One evening, with storm clouds clung low in the sky, Emma felt an irresistible pull once more to the edge of the water. She seemed to feel the pull of the ocean strong within her, a magnetic pull reaching deep within her soul.
She stood alone on the beach, the waves lapping at her feet, and closed her eyes, concentrating on the whispers that crowded her mind. The voice of the ocean was louder now, more insistent, and she felt the urgency within it.
Then, in one swift second, the sensation changed. A chill ran down her spine, and she opened her eyes, immediately knowing she was no longer alone.
She turned back to find a figure standing a few feet away, cast partially into shadow. It was Finn. He watched her with an intent gaze, an unusual shine in his eyes, a gleam of comprehension that made her heart speed up.
"You're out here again," he said, his voice low. "Why?"
Emma was hesitant, unsure how much she wanted to reveal. There was something in his eyes, though, that told her he already knew. "I… I feel it's just calling me, that the ocean is trying to call me towards it."
Finn nodded, his feet closing the gap between them. "Me too," he said, "like a shadow that refuses to leave me be.
Emma felt a wave of surprise and release wash over her. She wasn't the only one who was feeling the darkness; Finn was feeling it, too. In that second, she felt an unspoken bond form between them, a silent understanding of the strange forces that seemed to be at work.
Together, they stood in silence and watched as the waves churned upon the beach, the storm above them starting to swirl and grow. The sky was dark, with wind howling through the trees-carrying on its breath promises of powerful and dangerous things.
In that instant, Emma felt she could face anything. The darkness that threatened to rise would be formidable, no longer something to fear. She had allies beside her to bolster her, and she would fight.
Turning to make their way back down the mountain, Finn's hand brushed hers; the graze of his skin warm, a reassurance. She met his gaze, a silent promise passing between them.
The storm was coming, with battles that each would face. But all together, they would be strong and ready to protect the village and themselves against whatever dark may come.