Cloud Tempest

Solana

Everyone in the village was too occupied with their daily lives to care much about the missing boy. After escorting him to the Interrogation Tent, I didn’t dare stay to see what would become of him. Everyone in the village said they knew what happened once a person, a Siren, went into that tent, but their imaginations did the malicious man no justice. The only ones who truly know are those who have witnessed the acts firsthand.

Once when I was a young girl, I followed Lead Menas–a person I greatly admired at the time¬–to the tent. He and his direct followers were setting it up for the arrival of the Siren. I don’t remember when or how the Siren showed up, but I will never be able to forget her face. She was the most beautiful woman I had ever seen up to that point in time, her hair long and blonde and her eyes were bluer than the morning sky. She was slender, but not so much so that she looked frail. In fact–I believe that she looked very strong.

Being as small as I was at the time, I was able to hide in the crevice of the tent where the thick fabric folded and the light of the candle didn’t reach. Lead Menas and his cronies stood in the middle of the room, lying in wait for the poor unsuspecting girl–I didn’t know that’s what they were doing at the time, of course. I don’t know what I thought.

Before long, my older brother entered, the Siren in suit¬. She eyed the men suspiciously, but made no move to leave. Her stare was hard and sturdy as she made eye contact with the Lead. At the time, I thought this was preposterous; how dare she look at that wonderful man as if he was a criminal! She opened her mouth as if to speak, but she was unable to get a word out. One of the men who followed Lead Menas sprang forewords and knocked her harshly to the ground. The sound of her head cracking against the hard floor resonated throughout the tent and caused me to wince. The other men then began to use their abilities against her, and spit quiet profanity.

Earth was used to hold her down, air ripped open her clothes, water chokes her and stifled her screams, and fire scarred her porcelain skin. The ligaments of the beautiful woman were mutilated with a growing number of welts and blisters; her body defiled by the hardened members of the men; her own tears used to silence her protests. Tears of my own began to form as the image was burned forever into my mind, ruining the perception I held for my village’s gracious leader.

Though I was young, I knew that this is not what the Moon Goddess intended for us when she blessed us with our abilities. We are to use our connection to nature and the world around us to help the world, not to seek revenge from those who have wronged us. I also knew that one person shouldn’t be blamed for the misgivings of an entire people. People like Lead Menas are the reason that Sirens think we are evil, though some could argue that Lead Menas is the way he is because they think we’re evil.

Finally, when it seemed that the men were done, Lead Menas called to the farthest man to bring him the “brand”. The man ran in my direction, coming dangerously close to my hiding place, and retrieved a rod of iron. At the end of this piece of iron was the image of Asiatic Lilly flower attached to a curled vine–the same image that marked the body of every Moon Person. By that point, I was unable to keep myself from shaking with disgust and fear. I vaguely heard Lead Menas spouting something about making an example of the girl before promptly blacking out.

Tried as I have, I am unable to erase that day, that moment from my memory. Perhaps that is what has kept me awake, listening intently for the unmistakable footsteps of the men who do wrong to innocents arriving back home. Perhaps that is what drove me to sneak out of my own tent once they had fallen asleep. Perhaps that is the reason I am now hiding in the outskirts of the forestry, staring at the tent and attempting to build enough courage to approach the fabric and see the product of the twisted minds of men.

Just before I took my first step, another figure emerged from the tent. I cursed in my head, thinking that I had miscounted how many of the men arrived back home. I noticed, though, that the figure was not alone. Next to the person¬–more like hanging off of the person–was a large mass. Once out in the light of the moon, I saw that the large mass was the Siren from earlier–now bleeding and burning from his torture–and the figure was someone I’d never seen before. His hair was short and light-colored, his skin pale, and his build muscular.

The stranger supported almost the entire weight of the Siren and began to walk. Silently, I followed beside them–keeping myself hidden in the shadows–and watched as the stranger led the Siren away from everything and deeper into the forest. He stopped after several minutes of walking, and lay the boy down on the ground, setting his things beside him.

“Isn’t she beautiful?” he said, staring dreamily into the light of the Moon. The stranger looked at the Siren incredulously, as did I.

“You believe in the Cursed Goddess?” he asked, but the Siren had already fallen asleep. The stranger shook his head, kneeling down and covering the boy with a thin blanket.

“You are a strange character Cloud Tempest, and just the man this world needs. You best be getting home girl,” said the stranger after a pause, turning his head towards me and connecting his frosty eyes–the same that adorned the strong woman from my memories–with my golden ones in an icy stare, “lest your Lead catch you out past curfew.”

Unable to move from shock and dismay, I witnessed the most terrifying thing since my childhood; the stranger placed his feet completely on the ground, standing tall, and disappeared with a gust of wind.