I awoke, misty eyed and in agonizing pain. But in the embrace of being with skin of night and stars in her hair.

She drew a finger close, hesitating with a patience I knew I did not deserve.

I nodded my consent and the building mist was gently cleared from my vision.
Her hand returned to the task of stroking clouds billowing from what I knew to be a cracked skull.
My skull, or at least what counted for one. The core of my being upon which I built everything I am.

Before I could panic, her sweet song of a voice caught me off guard with its gentleness.

"It's okay. You're okay."

I was so used to shouting things apart with my voice. How did she manage that?
My throat was dry, but this was easily remedied. Every drop of moisture within me swelled at my bidding.

"It's safe. You can talk to me."

I could feel a mist beginning to form and spread from the corners of my vision. It took me longer than I would have liked to reign it in.
When I spoke, it was with a thunderous booming voice that caused the entity to wince.

"STAY. AWAY."

I saw no fear in her, no pain.
The expression she wore suggested concern more for me than her.
I regarded it a fleeting fantasy. Nothing more.

"It's okay. You won't hurt anyone anymore. It's over."

Every drop of water surged within me. I began to grew heated as I searched her face for mockery and found none of the tell tale signs.
What was this entity made of? There was no moisture in her that I could detect. The only warmth I could sense rested in her eyes and chest.
It did not build and swell like mine did, threatening to explode with every word.
No lightning came. I looked inward, taking stock of my vastly diminished potential.
It was true.
I felt... lessened.
"WHAT. HAPPENED?"

The warmth in her eyes dimmed. Meanwhile, it grew in her chest.
The feeling wasn't so threatening as it was warm in a way I wanted to draw closer to.
There was power there, but it promised protection. Not ruin.

"What do you remember?"

Unbidden, the emotions swirl within me. Freedom. Destruction. Grief. Shame. Isolation. Pain.
"MY KIND." It felt right. I wasn't sure how to proceed.

"The Stormfolk." She supplied.

"LIARS." My emotions recoiled. They denied me freedom for so long.

Her hand brushed against my cheek, wiping away mist I hadn't realized was there.

"I know." She said, so matter of fact.

"WORLD TOO SMALL. IT BROKE." No, I can feel the lightning again. Why can't I control it?
"I BROKE IT." So much destruction.

"It is okay."

"IT IS NOT." Grief.

No response from the being. No judgement?

"WORLD NOT FOR ME." The thought summons all the shame and isolation I felt before I arrived in this place.
The sensations are intense. There is nowhere to run. They build and swell, threatening to break free.
My entire self withdrew and condensed into a smaller space. I had to contain this storm within me.

In response, I felt myself drawn closer towards her and the warmth of what might as well have been a small star contained within her chest.
I knew this kind of energy and potential. I'd not only felt it before. I had just finished wielding it.
Her next words barely registered before the memory came back to me.

"Do you remember what-"

"I DESTROYED MYSELF." The pain is not wholly physical.
I lessened myself to try and fit into a world my kind taught me only to destroy.
I do not just feel small. I am a tiny cloud compared to the maelstrom I once was.
I was raised to be a howling and screaming vortex of death and destruction.
Entire nations were mine to destroy.
Nothing remained of what drew my attention.
My intentions didn't even have a chance to factor.

"No. You destroyed what they tried to make you."

"I DESTROYED MORE THAN THAT."

"Few Stormfolk frame what they do as an act of destruction. Fewer still regret it."

"WHY?"

"In part, a lack of proper time and conflict. This world is still young and its life fragile."

"I DON'T UNDERSTAND." I say this with shame.

"It is okay. That is where I come in. I can provide all the time that is needed for those in need with a willingness to accept what I offer. This is a place to rest, to recover, to think, or in your case, come to an understanding."

"WHERE ARE WE?"

"A dream. Do you not feel entirely in control of your bodily functions? This is a part of that."

"WHAT HAPPENS WHEN I WAKE UP?"

"So long as you remain in my arms, you won't. But this is the primary thing I wish to discuss."

She did not answer my question. Why did that feel ominous? My hair darkened with my mood. What was this feeling? Dread? It barely felt like mine. Another entity even.

"Are you familiar in how how dream logic differs from the waking world?"

"YES." The graying clouds grow around me.

"You can change things. Dictate some things about yourself or the course of the world around you."

"BUT IT'S JUST A DREAM." A defiant heat boils within my lungs.

"Consider this my waking world."

"HOW DOES THAT KEEP ME ALIVE?" Lightning crackles at my fingertips once more. I will not be trapped. Not again.

"Changes I make are ones you get to take with you when you wake up."

"SO. YOU CAN HEAL ME." A moment's hesitation is all it takes. The lightning slips from my grasp.

"If that is what you desire and I have your consent."

"WAIT." I let it go.

"Take your time."

And so I did.

 

* * *

 

Elsewhere, in the waking world, a fog settles in along the beach. The last vestige of the maelstrom that brought ruin the night before.

She discarded me.

Dashed herself against the tallest rocks she could find and broke apart in a spectacular fashion. How absolutely wasteful.

I was too blinded by pain and rage as I stalked the beach that I didn't bother questioning when she became a distinctly separate and feminine entity that existed apart from me.

I just took it as fact and worked from there. I knew my other half, even if she didn't know herself.

The beach was still. Nothing moved. That much was as it should be. Nothing deserved to survive our debut to the world.

Water still came in with the tide, I would use it to reconstitute.

I reached out a gray limb condensed with all the heat and impatience I could muster. Energy crackled at the tips of wiry fingers. Despite all that confidence and effort, I failed to beckon the ocean.

I stabbed outward with a second, third, and then a fourth hand. Nothing.

Not a single drop heeded my call. The tide withdrew, no doubt mocking me if it could form lungs to do so.

Which was just as well. I'd just have to seize it myself. I was the Scion of Storms here.

Gray tendrils shot out from my core, impaling the sand as I indignantly pulled myself close to the water's edge.

All of a sudden one limb after another diffused from solid gray to a misty white cloud. I was not just struggling to remain in control of the water around me. Everything I had drawn in to serve as a part of me was slipping from my grasp.

What was happening to me?

How was this happening? Was this her fault?

Storms were supposed to be able to naturally disperse. With grace!

Why was I struggling to hold onto anything?

I was left with endless questions to ponder in a bed of sand.

I took stock of my... self.

There was so little moisture left that I just barely passed for the sorriest excuse of a storm I'd ever seen.

My eyes flashed blue-white fury into the water's reflection. Still it refused to yield to me. Someone was going to answer for this.

It was with shame that I drew sandy particulate into myself. I had to reach out to it and pull it close. Like a child. Like a... weakling.

No matter, it formed a solid shell from which no more moisture or heat could escape. I settled for two arms and two legs. Anything more would be a hassle, diminished as I was.

An incoming wave took my legs our from under me. It was everything I could do to propel the upper half of my sandy prison further from the offending waves.

I was so much... lesser. And deteriorating by the second. It was like I was a broken vessel that could not hold onto even the emotions my predicament deserved.

Maybe if I held onto that. As a label around which to pin my emotions. No, my predicament was a curse.

"Curse you Verity!" My voice failed to boom with the majesty it deserved.

Why did I know this new name to be hers? It felt like truth.

Why did her need for change result in... whatever this was? I stared at myself in the water's reflection. Or, what was left of me, now very much apart from her.

With my vessel of sand as whole as I could make it, electric blue spheres of light expressed the annoyance my cracked and fragile body's reflection conjured within me.

"Broken Vessel." The name provoked my ire, even if it didn't last. Whatever little storm remained within me was mine to keep. For now, the name would be my mantle.

Until I got answers or claimed something better.