Raijin

The air is heavy with the promise of rain.

The sun shines bright overhead, beating down from the blue sky. A soft breeze stirs the sparse plant life. The air is oppressively hot. Yet - there is a stillness all around. Animals grow quiet and retreat into their burrows. The dry, dusty land aches with thirst.

On the horizon appears a grey wall of clouds. Ever closer they move, traveling unbelievably swiftly on the scorching summer breeze. Laden with water, they obfuscate all that they pass. First the peaks of the mountains disappear; then their slopes. Soon, all that can be seen beyond the barren desert land is a solid mass of stormcloud.

Closer still it moves. The hot air grows humid as it leaches moisture from the storm. The pale blue sky recedes, beaten back by the encroaching clouds. A low rumble of thunder warns of what is to come.

A quick breath - and then the storm.

A torrential deluge batters the world. The clouds open up and pour forth rain. All is dim and grey; visibility shrinks to a few feet. Lightning flashes overhead, so bright that its impression lingers on the retina. A deafening crack of thunder follows close on its heels.

The rain batters the earth, which hungrily drinks all that is offered. Dusty tan turns to the rich brown of fertile soil. Cacti and coarse shrubs eagerly absorb the sky's bounty.

The storm rages overhead. Though the day is hot, the rain falls in a chill torrent. At times the wind makes the downpour almost horizontal. The only reprieve from the grey of the clouds which suffuse the world are the brilliant, neon arcs of lightning - now blue; now purple. Their tendrils reach, grasping, across the sky. The drums of thunder accompany the rain's song.

This is the mating dance of Monsoon and Raijin.

Within the storm the Fae flutters around the Imperial. Lightning strikes and thunder roars in time to their pulses. Each beat of their wings brings a new deluge of rain. Ever onward they fly, their forms intertwined, a timeless dance of life and love.

As quickly as it arrived, the storm vanishes. The blue sky is nearly blinding after the darkness of the clouds. The wind pushes the grey wall of the storm, making it recede into the background. Ahead, the mountains reach proudly across the horizon. The chillness of the rain vanishes, replaced by a scorching humidity that makes the very air sticky.

Wildlife begins to emerge. Small toads sing happily as they pop up from holes in the damp earth. The washes have flooded. The racing rush of their temporary rivers will feed the surrounding desert, enabling new life. Flowers will spring up. Cacti will leaf and blossom. Brown brush will grow verdant and green. The storm brings life to the desert.

By morning the land will have grown dry - but this is a hardy land. The plants ask for little in order to flourish.

And besides: the next storm is not far behind.