#stratustorm

It’s strange, watching seasons change. They did so once of their own accord, to me, for reasons I understood. Now they do so, sometimes, for little reason at all...

It was a quiet morning, as calm rains fell on orange leaves. Occasional leaves floated to the green grass below and offered a showcase of the autumn season’s early stages.

Should I visit my brother, I’ll see trees of green. My father, trees covered in snow. The two live in lands where seasons are scarce, and changes are subtle at best. They don’t control this, yet they choose it.

The red-headed woman sipped on her tea, and leaned back. Her porch swing creaked just quietly enough that the gentle patter of rain was sometimes enough to cover it. Birds weren’t chirping, the babies were asleep, and this early morning gave peace that brought Cress back into a reflective mood.

Summer turns autumn here... sometimes because we choose. When we want the leaves to fall, we ask for it. When we think it’s time for snow, the sisters oblige. It happens every year on schedule, but what would happen should the people call for something different? A snowstorm mid-summer? Would it be the blossoms blooming after an ice storm? Or should they call for something new entirely? Could we make trees of blues and yellows, grass of golden browns to go with leaves of pink and white-

“You’re lost again.” The front door opened for just a second; just long enough for Kasumeii to step out. How long had Cress been thinking? Had she gone another hour, two, had time escape-

“Aaand lost again...” She laughed this time, and stepped over to give her lover a smooch on the head. “You should probably not work today. You won’t get anything done on a mood like this.”

Cress surrendered a hand from her lap to put it on Kasumeii’s, resting them on her shoulder. It was then that she remembered: she had previously held her tea cup with both hands. Where did-

-oh. What tea was left was now in her lap, and out of the cup. She sighed and started to get up, but was pushed back down by her other who now joined her on the swing.

With a silent, gentle motion, Kasumeii leaned her head over on top of Cress’ shoulder. “Thank you for autumn.”

She knew the credit was not hers to take, but she didn’t reject this. Instead, she turned her head just enough to plant a soft kiss on Kasumeii’s cheek. “The seasons change for you.”

As always, when morning came, the windows were opened. First in the bedroom, then in the hallway, then in the living room and kitchen. Piper always knew when the windows were being opened, and always tried to help when it was time. This was a part of the specific morning routine of Lyrelark- make the house feel as open as possible.

This time, however, it was raining. The showers were soft, and weren’t causing too much noise. Piper was calm enough, but it meant one window had to be left closed.

Which Lyrelark’s face showed he clearly did not like.

Lyrelark returned home from a busy day of errands. His homecoming routine went into motion: it began with setting the diaper bag down, followed by the baby- sometimes in the playpen, the high chair, on the table, or simply handing her down to his helpful bird Ika. After that, he’d give Piper her applesauce and baby spoon and set about emptying his pockets. Loose gold first, gold pouch next, keys following, any wrappers after, and pacifier(s) last. It was usually done this way, with little or no variation in between.

It gave him an idea, though, for a letter. It had certainly been a while, and that was something he wanted to get back to doing. So, he sat down at the table by the messily-eating child and started writing.

The sun recedes, spreading pink between the sea and sky.

The waves get louder, birds fly home, the sky’s too dark to fly.

Bright orange hair, bright green eyes, she watches the water glow.

Serenity is all she feels; in this place no one else goes.

Darkness comes, the sun is gone, it’s almost time to leave.

There’s seconds left, just little time; one dip, she’ll feel relieved.

Before her feet can touch the sand just shy of dry land’s mark,

She’s hoisted up, into the air! A shock here in the dark!

Relief comes now, more than the water ever could provide,

She’s in arms of comfort, of the one who makes her smile.

The moon lights glitter on the sand, night shimmers in their wake.

In these arms of comfort, now, she feels both loved and safe.

It’s raining. Not uncommon for the Jade Forest, but it felt unwelcome this time.

With slow, quiet steps, he headed outside into the downpour. It was a bit muddy, and he had no shoes on, but he didn’t stop. His blue bird companion lifted her head in concern and followed him out.

It didn’t feel right. Normally, his hair would be covering his face by now, but it wasn’t. It couldn’t. He cut it off.

Ika gently grabbed his pants leg with her beak, trying to pull back. But he just wouldn’t stop. The curled path ahead led down to the shore, and his destination. She didn’t like this- she didn’t like any of it lately. He wasn’t himself. And she hadn’t been able to save him.

With worried eyes, the crane watched her partner, her best friend, as he approached the shoreline. There was an underlying source of unease, and her head screamed this. If he went too far in that water, she had to get him.

But he didn’t. When he finally got there, the red-haired ranger stood silently for just a second, then lowered himself to the ground. He laid on his side, in the cold, wet sand, and started to cry.

This wasn’t what she thought would happen. Ika’s head feathers fell flat, and she approached him slowly. With one more failed attempt to pull him back, she only had one more idea. So, she walked up in front of him and sat to cuddle against him.

After a few minutes, the front door of the house slid open to the nose of one more creature- Noall, his wolf. Her tail wagged in the light of the open door, then stopped when she didn’t get the usual excited greeting she was used to. So, with a ‘boof,’ she signaled for the other animals that something was wrong. Loud enough for their sensitive ears, quiet enough not to wake the rest of the house. 

When she arrived down, her tail wagged again and she decided it was her time to cheer him up. Before she could deliver this soaking lick to his face, the sad stare from Ika stopped her. This wasn’t a cheer up situation.

So, against his back, she curled up and laid.

The hulking Pandaren tiger was next, and was already close by. He stared with half-closed eyes, not confused in the slightest but not wholly awake. Without hesitation, he pushed himself into the pile to slide his shoulder under Lyrelark’s arm. No need resting your head on wet sand.

Following was the loud, splashing leaps of Thunder. This giant white direhorn child was usually rowdy, and currently was no different; but when he saw the pile, and the stares from the other animals, he managed to catch on. Dad was sad. So, he walked up to his feet slowly and looked down, then flopped on the sand and rested his chin on his legs. 

The final beast came, with a white glow in the darkness of the forest. Wishflurry emerged, the massive moose looking down with confusion at all of the others. Being the newest, he wasn’t used to group piles like this. But it didn’t take long for him to understand. He disappeared at first, before returning with his sleeping blanket draped over his antlers. With a small scooch to Dhara, he held his head over Lyrelark’s to keep the rain from his face.

“Of course he’s still asleep. I’m not surprised, really, those stab wounds were already infected.” The voice was on the adenoidal side; not unpleasant, and spoken with purpose. “How are those dishes coming along?”

Off at the kitchen sink, a red, white, and black corgi sat looking confused. 

“You’re no help to me.” The speaker was a middle-aged Sin’dorei, a woman with black hair save for one silvery white streak in her bangs. She was on the pale side, and stood about 5′4. Despite how thin she looked, certain movements she made while cleaning Albatross’ wounds showed how strong her arms actually were. “Do me a favor next time, Clarence, and don’t volunteer to wash the dishes if you know your arms are too short.”

“Yip!”

“Alright, alright, I apologize. Your arms aren’t too short.” The lady braced herself by Albatross, looking down at the unconscious man with a deep sigh. “I haven’t had to do this in years, but if you’re going to smell that bad then a bath it is.”

A couple of minutes later, she made her way up the stairs and into the bathroom, dragging the elf giant on her back. After getting him undressed, she dropped him in the bath and stepped back-

-and it worked! With a loud gasp, the man awoke and started jerking around. His surroundings shocked him, and before familiarity could settle in his eyes fixated on the cross-armed, foot-tapping lady before him.

“So you finally outgrow me finding you drunk in the woods, only for me to find you bleeding in the snow?” Any kind, simple voice was replaced with a much harsher tone now. “That was centuries ago. Are you still this damaged over it?”

Albatross attempted getting up, but immediately groaned and fell back in the bath. He wasn’t moving anytime soon. “This has nothing to do with mother, it was-”

“It was what?” She slapped her hands down against her legs. “You being reckless? Stupid? We already have to deal with Cass, did you follow in her footsteps?”

“No, I didn’t-” Before he could finish that sentence, Albatross was hit by a thrown hand towel, right on the face.

“Listen, Albie. We are all that we have left. And this ‘independence’ you’re still clinging to isn’t funny anymore. We all hate what happened to mom and dad, but you have to move on.”

The big man just groaned through the whole sentence, and ended her speech with a yell. “I married, Swan. I married and had two kids. Had one kid with a friend years before that. The first kid’s mom died. My wife died. I have grandchildren. A fish baby-” He sighed, and tried getting up again. “Me getting stabbed has nothing to do with mom. I just pissed some thugs off.”

Frozen earth shifted beneath the feet of two warring shapes; behemoths among the death. One battled with the scent of repulsive rot, and the other with the metallic hum of holy Light. Each time their weapons clashed, the contradicting powers caused waves of destruction on the crunching snow around them.

“You should have stayed on the Broken Shore, beast.” With a step back, the unholy combatant spat both words and vitriol towards his opponent. He was an orc, greyish-brown in skin tone, with what endured of an uppercut of brown hair on one side and horrid burn scars on the other. One eyesocket stayed empty, while the remaining eye focused on the battle at hand.

Albatross, the fighter for the Light, wasn’t letting that step back go without its price. He lunged his shield forward and met him with the nasty crack of bone in return. As to whose it was, it was uncertain; but the elf wasn’t stopping in either case. “I go where I please, not where I’m guarded. You’ve crossed a line, Karlosh.”

The orc pushed into the spikes, despite the wounds they made, and took that chance to knock the side of Albatross’ head with the hilt of his festering blade. It was a nasty, cheap shot; it caused the elf’s only hearing ear to ring. Naturally, he recoiled back but kept his shield where it could guard his head from any other blows.

“You steal my kill, I kill you.” With a wide swing, Karlosh stepped forward and slammed Albatross right in the knee. It forced the paladin to drop down, but he still held that shield up. A few attempts at scourge strikes were made from the orc, but they all failed to a moderately weak shield of Light. “Give it up already!”

It all sounded like mumbling and wind to the deafened man, and he knew he had no chance if he fought like this. His only current option was to throw a consecration at his feet, so he did; and it worked. Karlosh was sent reeling back from the burning pain in his feet, but it unfortunately did not achieve the results Albatross wanted. Right after doing so, the swift sting of two daggers buried themselves in his sides- one each from a separate goblin rogue, who both immediately stealthed away.

“Ack-” Albatross hit the ground on all fours, realizing his defeat here was near inevitable. His hearing returned to the crunch of snow from the approaching Karlosh, and all he could do was look up. “You proud of yourself? Harassing an old man?”

“I am proud of myself,” the orc laughed. He held his blade out to the elf’s cheek and sliced into it. As it cut, the flesh seemed to sting; death and Light did not get along. “Do you know how many lost cultists want you dead? I get that honor.”

A cough, and a sputter of blood, and Albatross felt defeat even stronger now. He opened his mouth to throw something sassy back, but couldn’t find the words amidst the rising blood.

“Pity. I wanted this to last longer.” The unholy blade was lifted up, and right as it slammed down a flash of Light erupted. A loud, dissonant metallic hum forced the orc to recoil back and the goblins to break their concealment. As the Light seemed to fade, the glowing general shape of a blade floated above Albatross’ head. It took no specific form, but shielded him from that attack entirely.

The attackers all exchanged worried glances, including Karlosh. He knew what happened when a death knight was exposed too much to holy Light, especially in a concentration such as this; so he stepped back and began a summoning spell. “We’ll leave him to take care of these, Whistlefixes. Get the zepplin ready.”

The two goblins gave the death knight a quick nod, and dodged their way through his cloud of ghouls. The undead all began to crowd their way around Albatross, some flinging themselves blindly into the Light to meet their deaths and others scratching at his legs and arms. Without waiting, Karlosh departed in the hopes that these minions would deal with his opponent.

The deep, deep roll of thunder.

It was two in the afternoon, but the sky was darker than most evenings on Orchinet.

Other than the low thunder grumble, the silence was kept at bay by the quick patter of rain on the roof above.

The ground was flooding outside of the patio, and Crescendion felt thankful she was on raised ground. 

Her bright orange hair was longer now; for the first time in years, past her shoulders. It rested on her cream sweater, and served as the most color her simple outfit had.

Peace was the goal here, and that was clear. Spring rains came yearly, and had become the elf’s favorite part of the warmer months.

The patter got heavier, and was broken by a louder crack in the thunder’s roll. Wind now played like strings against the screens around the patio. Occasional leaves blew past, and Crescendion knew the serenity was nearly over.

Behind her, the front door opened then closed. Familiar footsteps made it clear- Kasumeii was home.

The serenity would stay.

@kasumeii —-(@evisane)