Misty had prepared for this all of her life, she'd known since she was a little girl that she would one day inherit her grandfather's gift. With a wave of her hand, one day she would guide storms down windy coastlines and bring rain to the deserts of the south; she would soon be able to heal the world around her. Soon she would be able to do her part in protecting her country from the invading Monistory nation...Soon she would make her grandfather proud. So, having known all along that this was to be her destiny, why was she so afraid? Not afraid...She...She was positively petrified.
Lifting her arm haphazardly, she waved the wall f wind to the left, feeling the ring on her left hand growing hot. The ring was old and warn, it would never hold when she had to fully open up her full assault. She was going to have to find a better focus or this was never going to work. She could feel the wind grow cold, raising goosebumps on her bare arms as she tentatively tried to stir the tiny column of wind that now swirled around her thick like choking fog. It was no use, she couldn't move it more than a few feet, how was she ever going to be able to ride cyclone or to unleash the kinds of wind they were expecting of her?
"Your head's not in it!" Called Rowan over the roar of the building storm.
Misty felt a spike of irritation that she tried hard to quell, but it was too late and as her eyes creased for the instant it took her to swallow back her frustration; There was the sparkle of a beam of lightening that flashed inches from her. The wind now howled like a wounded animal and the droplets that seem to come not just from above, but from all directions assaulted the figures anew. Rowan wiped the frigid liquid from his cheek, rubbing his jaw (which, Misty knew was a sign of intrigue or curiosity in him) and chuckled.
"What's wrong, Missy? Lose your temper?" He clucked.
"Don't call me that!" She snapped, gritting her teeth so hard that her own face began to hurt.
"Oh come on, it seems to be working. We just gotta get you a little riled up!"
The words had no sooner left his lips when a gust of wind strong enough to send him back a few feet gusted past Misty and off into the distance. She curled her fingers into her fist, trying hard to steady herself.
"You know you can't try to control it!" Called Rowan playfully.
"I can try; I'm not letting what happened last time repeat." She stated matter-of-factly.
"It wasn't that bad." He said with a flick of his wrist that sent her blood pressure spiking again (he was good at that).
"Chuck still has a scar under his eye!"
"Chuck has gotten worse from his sister. Now, come on, Missy! Let's see what happens when I really fluster you!" He said dodging forward as another bolt of crackling, blue fire struck the dust.
Rowan dodged ahead of the lightening and the furious wind that bit relentless and first crouched, hurling at her a puff of dust that thudded against her baby pink t-shirt.
"Hey!" She barked, her vivid blue eyes swirling as a small cloud of wind began to form around her.
"Let go, love. It's the only way you'll be able to fight back, you have to let go, don't try to control it!"
"Don't you get it, I've spent the last six months letting this "gift" if you can even call it that, control me! I can't stand letting my emotions control me." She hissed through clenched teeth.
"Your grandfather was the high wizard of the storm. Being a little...Sensitive, a little out of control is part of the gig." He said, placing his arms gently around her waist.
"What if-"
"What if?" He pressed.
"What if I let go and I don't come back from it. That's what my grandfather was worried would happen if he gave the gift to my sister, that she'd be so wrapped up in the storm that she'd lose herself!"
"You will come back!" He insisted.
"How can you be so sure?" She retorted, feeling her stomach quake with anxiety.
Another earth-shattering boom of thunder filled the hollow valley as the falling rain suddenly reached a crescendo, streaking down the faces of our unlikely protagonists. Her mascara running as if she'd been brought to tears; Misty looked deeply into the night within her lover's dark eyes and hoped that there was truth in his words...that she could return from the heart of the storm.
Because you are not your sister. The gift was meant for you, just as it was meant for your grandfather; the oracle was clear in her ruling!" He said flabbergasted, "You are stronger than the call of the storm, you won't ascend to some strange godhood that leave you conjuring storms and ceasing to be yourself."
"How can you be so sure?!" She hissed again, more urgently.
The column of wind circling her had begun to pick up now, the silvery gusts tangling together into an all-encompassing blanket that encircled the pair.
"Because, if you do turn into the storm. I shall come and find you; I'll kick your scrawny ass and remind you who you are." He smiled that grin that made her knees weak.
Without another word, he spun her in his arms and pulled her to him, pressing a deep and vulnerable kiss upon her soft pink lips, she wrapped her arms around his neck, leaning into the kiss. The tangle of arms and lips lasted only a moment however as the wind raging around them at all sides reached a fever-pitch.
The girl spun, baying he step back. She peered no longer weary into the heart of her new home and without another word, leapt headlong into the whirling cyclone overhead. Soon she would protect her loved ones, she would make her grandfather proud. And, despite the rain that fell as fast and hard as bullet, she knew she would come back. Her and Rowan would stand together again n the rain until the storm lifted...