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Fola paced along the river’s edge. The sluggish waters flowed as calmly as they had earlier, but so much had changed since then. One of her people gone, snatched to a terrifying death in the claws of a monster; a child left motherless; a warrior wounded. Fola’s stomach turned to stone at the thought of another villager suffering the same fate, and of the family left behind to wail their grief to the setting sun.

Fola must rise to this challenge, as Rashida rose to the challenge. This was Fola’s crucible, her moment. She must not fail her town, or her family’s proud line!

Gathering up her robes and wading into the cooling river, Fola felt the silt between her toes. She stared across the endless plains in front of her.

Kenlo was safe for now. No dragon scarred the sky, though heavy clouds hung to the west. They seemed to get darker as she stared at them; a sudden wind ruffled her robes, and shaped the water around her feet to tiny waves. Darker and darker still the clouds grew, and they swirled at their base. Lightning flashed high in their crowns, but she heard no thunder.

As sudden as water splashing, a funnel cloud dropped from the black base of the clouds. It writhed to earth, and a blaze of blowing dirt streaked across the sky.

The twister vanished in no more than a breath, sucked back up into the cloud’s heart as if it had never existed. In seconds the ripples in the water disappeared. Fola watched the clouds move on before she returned to the town green, hoping without words that this sign was one of triumph and not the destruction of all she’d known.

[What does Fola find out when the brushwagg returns?]
[What does all this forebode, anyway?]
[Back]