Stormkissed

The water didn't sing tonight-it screamed. High-pitched and guttural, like an old wound torn open. Even the c

f kelp and memory. My tail-silver with pale opal tips-flicked once, twice, anchoring me in place.

alive and it was waking something

prophecy tangled in the waves like shattered glass. I'd been singing them softly to the reef, coaxin

er's surface and reached-not with my fingers, but with the part of

omed behin

torn

ped like a man but wrapped in l

's eye, fighting the wind as if it

t near the Shattered Reaches. My kind-the Maelora, guardians of the ocean

il

arly this time. His face was bloodied, jaw clenched, one hand raise

ways, and I saw his wings

ng inside me whispered otherwise. His energy... it pu

fted

balance that once held the world together. Fire, wat

s had broken before I was

ever wanted-could summon those memories. Not always clearly, not always

arper. Mor

ves whispered of w

hey scream

ro

in the lightning. It was in the current, the melody

ro

ncing hard off the rocks before sliding in

dn't

I felt the reef below me curl in fear. The water darkened, afraid to rise

etreating from the morning

o

the air-folk bleed and die and scream and curse above the waves like they

leeding, yet the stor

h

y

sea keep whisp

hrough. The air was cold and stung my skin. I hated being abo

looking

ow. He looked... lost. Not just in place, but in time. Like something ancient and forgot

her

efore he could spea

blanket, muffling the noise. B

the sea le

y

ings-rage, fire, storms, betrayal. Bu

aid walked the path of the proph

a was changing. The past was surfacing again. And

ore me like a yawning mouth. The melo

a wa

ca

wasn't done