The wind outside howled louder, and the manor creaked under the pressure. The walls seemed to groan, as if they too sensed the approaching tempest. Nigel's thoughts were a whirlwind of confusion and dread. He felt a sudden urge to seek solace in Helena's old room, the place where he had always felt safe.
Stumbling through the dark corridors, he made his way to her room. The door creaked open, covered in darkness; he couldn't see a thing, but the familiar scent of his mother still lingered in her room. Making his way to the bed, he sat down.
As he sat on the edge of the bed, memories of Helena flooded his mind. He could almost hear her soothing voice, feel her gentle touch. But the comfort he sought was overshadowed by the intensifying storm outside. Suddenly, a deafening roar filled the air. The windows shattered, and the room was flooded with the blinding light of lightning.
Nigel clung to the bedpost, his eyes wide with terror. The tempest had arrived. The manor shook violently as the storm's fury descended upon Delin. Trees were uprooted, and the ground seemed to tremble under the might of the storm.
But how? Why did the storm arrive so suddenly? He was outside just now, and it seemed like the storm was still a few days away. He could hear the screams of the wind, the screams of destruction; his death had come, but here he was, smiling.
He tried to stand, but the force of the storm was too great. Through the broken window, he saw the city below, covered in chaos. Some people who had not heeded the warnings and those who were late to react to the warnings were now desperately running for cover, but there was nowhere to hide. The storm showed no mercy.
The spire of the Church of the Seven toppled, crashing down in a cloud of debris. The streets were rivers of rain and rubble. But despite all the chaos, he felt a strange sensation; it was as if deep in the storm, there was something or someone calling out to him.
He could hear fleeting voices in the wind, tempting him to come to the eye of the storm. "Come, my son." "Be one with the storm." Different voices called out to him, and for a moment, he thought he was still hallucinating, but the voices only got louder until he heard Helena's voice amongst the countless others.
"Walk with me." His eyes widened, and a pained expression appeared on his face. "Mom?" Driven by an unknown force, he somehow stood up and began taking shaky steps towards the balcony. His weak body moved against the strong force of the storm.
Wind whipped around him, threatening to hurl him into the abyss. But he stood firm, his deep blue eyes staring into the heart of the storm. And then, amidst the chaos, he saw it—a figure in the storm, ethereal and radiant.
It was a woman, her form shifting and flickering like the lightning that illuminated her. She reached out a hand, her eyes locking onto his. "Mom?" Nigel whispered, though the wind drowned out his voice.
The figure nodded, a sad smile on her lips. She gestured for him to come closer. Feeling an overwhelming urge to step forward, to embrace the figure, he took a step. The balcony gave way, and he fell, tumbling through the air, the storm's fury wrapping around him.
Time seemed to slow down as he fell, and in those final moments, Nigel felt a strange sense of peace. The tempest had come, his death had come, and he would now rest. Smiling as he fell, he knew he was going to die soon. For him, this was his destiny, and he would have died even without the arrival of the tempest, as he had always been destined to.
And as he fell, for a moment, he thought he could see the figure in the storm embrace him, becoming one with the chaos, the eye of the storm. Smiling, he closed his eyes and disappeared into the abyss below.
Darkness covered him, and in the darkness, he felt like he was home. A familiar scent hit his nostrils, and he quickly opened his eyes. Right in front of him, Helena stood with a warm smile. The darkness slowly faded, and in its place was a garden that eerily resembled the manor's garden.
Looking closely, he saw the familiar peach tree and the wooden bench beside it. It was really their garden. Looking at Helena again, he took a step forward, thinking he would fall without his cane, but surprisingly, his leg stood firm Surprised at the new strength of his body, Nigel took another step forward, confirming his doubts.
"But how?" his question was directed at both Helena and himself. How was it possible? Was he dead? Was this the holy garden? His deep blue eyes stared at Helena in both shock and disbelief.
"Mom, you are-" Before he could continue, Helena spoke.
"Walk with me." She turned around and began walking towards the peach tree. Following behind without saying a word, Nigel stared at Helena's back with uncertainty.
"I can feel your gaze on me, and trust me when I say I know you need answers, but that is not the reason why I'm here." She paused a bit, peeking glance at him before resuming.
"I am here to tell you about your mother, your real mother; Mother Tempest." Nigel's thoughts were on his mother, how nice it was to hear her voice again, but doubts still lingered in his mind when he suddenly heard her mention his mother, "real mother, Mother Tempest."
Feeling confused and dumbfounded, he wanted to ask what she was talking about, but then he remembered that she said she was not here to answer questions. Being an obedient child, Nigel suppressed his feelings and listened quietly.
"Charlotte may be the one that gave birth to you, but you were never her son. You are a son of the tempest, your soul was molded out of her essence. You are the youngest son of Mother Tempest and her last gift to humanity. Your birth drained her of all her life force, and she is now no more."
"Mother Tempest was the only one out of 'THEM' who helped us fight against the fallen, and now she has trusted you with her power. Embrace the storm, find the tempest, and become the storm." Helena paused as they now stood under the peach tree.
"I am happy I was the one chosen to speak to you. Make me proud, my son. Save humanity from both the fallen and itself. Do not harbor hatred against your family; your father did what he thought was best for you. So, I hope that one day you may find it in your heart to forgive them and possibly help them regain their former glory."
"But as of now, you have to focus on hiding. The Church and the Royal Family will both send people to look for you. So, for now, hide and keep a low profile. And lastly, try to have fun. Life is not all about books and stars; make friends, find a girl that makes you happy, enjoy what life has to offer, and do not dwell on the past."
Helena spoke lovingly to her son with a smile. On the other hand, the information he was getting was slightly overwhelming, and he couldn't even understand some words his mother spoke.
Looking at Helena's soft smile, his heart ached, and he murmured, "I missed you so much, Mom."
A tear ran down his cheek; Helena wiped off the tear and gave him a peck on the forehead.
"I missed you too, my pale knight in shining armor." She responded with a light giggle, reminding him of the time when she would tease him.
Suddenly, the garden became darker and darker until the only thing visible was Helena, who stood before him with a soft smile.
"It is time for you to return to the land of the living, and I also have a final message and a request for you. Be wary of the Church, and also, if you ever end up in the royal city, please search for a Nigel Madison; he is your uncle and also my younger brother."
"Goodbye, my pale knight. I will love you always." With that, Helena's figure also started fading away, leaving him all alone in the darkness.
Staring blankly at where his mother was, he whispered, "Till infinity."
The darkness began swirling, and raindrops fell. Thunder roared, and lightning flashed. Heavy winds picked up, but he stood still, not even moving a bit. In his silence, he saw it—the figure in the storm again, ethereal and radiant.
Her form shifted and flickered like the lightning that illuminated her. This time, she had a smile on her face, and she seemed to be holding something in her hands. She took a step toward him, and with each step, thunder roared louder and louder. Blinding lightning flashed, and the wind became heavier, but still, he remained unshaken.
When she reached him, her smile dimmed down a bit, and so did the thunder and the frequency of lightning flashes. Even the wind slowed down. Opening her hands and revealing a small, dark cloud that had little lightnings flashing inside it and a small gust of wind, she handed it to him.
Nigel hesitated at first, but he reached out his hands to receive the small, stormy cloud. The cloud floated off her palms and towards Nigel, but instead of landing in his palms, it went directly to his left eye. At first, nothing happened, but then a huge lightning bolt hit him out of nowhere, and thunder roared once more. The figure in front of him silently watched him screaming in pain.
Lightning danced all around his body, leaving visible inscriptions from his left eye downwards. The inscriptions seemed to be alive, pulsating with an otherworldly light. Nigel, covered in lightning arcs, passed out from the pain and did not end up hearing the figure speak.
The figure disappeared, and all that was left in the darkness was him, with lightning arcs dancing around his body.