Rain fell from the heavens in soft drops, sounding out melodious patterns on the road. Thunder moved with lightning speed over the sky, while the light drizzle darkened steadily. All at once, the sky opened with a battle cry and fury was unleashed in the form of a stormy tempest.

The Gods were angry.

A little girl sat calmly by the side of the window, her reflection offering just the minutest fraction of fascination she was feeling. Her mask shifted just a slightly, betraying the wonder normally so carefully hidden behind her stoic expression. Her head was tilted to the side, her hands clenched into tiny fists. Sitting by the window and illuminated by a bare candle, shadows danced across her face, caressing her silhouette.

As long as she could remember, she had been considered “different.” Her black eyes set her apart from any other child, her expressionless face causing unease even in the most serene of adults. She was not beautiful, but her unearthly appearance made every passerby turn their heads twice. There had been stories whispered about her, possibilities about prophecies fulfilled.

She held her hand up to the glass, leaning forward and placing her burning forehead to the cool surface. It was only during these few chaotic moments where she truly felt tranquil. The magnificence of storms drew her in; she watched mesmerized as lightning ran across the sky and reached down to the earth with long, spindly fingers. She looked down at her own pale, slender hands and stretched them, sore from being balled up into fists. Turning away from the window for just a moment, she reached over and picked up a doll from the beside table, then in a rare moment of clumsiness, accidentally dropped it, as if an unseen force caused her fingers to uncurl. As she watched, a spark raced down her arm and into the doll and she jerked back, surprised.

Studying her arm suspiciously, and then the doll, she found nothing had changed. Shrugging back into her emotionless mold, she leaned back and resumed watching the torrents of rain. Suddenly, a careless creature ran across the field – and as she watched – was picked up by the fingers of lightning, and just as quickly, dropped. Her black eyes widened in surprise and her neck tensed as the creature confusedly picked itself up and continued its previous activity.

What in Adarien’s name was that? Her thoughts tumbled around in her head as she looked from her hand to the doll, and back. It couldn’t have been…that means I’m one of – her head snapped up as a sound was emitted from the doorway.

“Clare says to come down for dinner,” proclaimed the little boy.
She stared at him for a moment, then nodded her head in understanding. “I’ll be right down,” she said softly. He left, and she sat for just a moment longer, pondering the sudden events. She shook her head one more time and gave a final sigh before making her way downstairs. So preoccupied was she with her thoughts that her normally observant eyes did not catch a faint shadow watching her from the hallway.

And still the rain fell.