Ill Wind
I tried to get to sleep early, but this story, which wouldn't gel enough all day for me to write it down, suddenly decides it wants to be written. This story was introduced into an RPG years ago, but it was never heard by the players as they chose a different route. Always before I had thought to tell it from the sailor's perspective. It changed in strange and interesting ways when I shifted the POV, and it turned out that much more was going on than I had imagined before.
****
The wind howled its fury and the rain came down as if the ocean and sky had momentarily changed places. The thunder was a constant deafening drumbeat and the lightning was a continuous glare. And at the heart of the storm she danced for sheer delight. Reveling in the power and the passion of the elements, she leapt nimbly from wave top to wave top and then decided to play tag with moving foam-crested walls three times her height. A night like this and a storm like this was what gave her existence meaning! Her enthusiasm could not be contained but her cries of joy were torn away from her by the wind so that even the little men that she carried in her bosom could not hear it.
Other ships would have been intimidated by a storm such as this, she knew. They would not have dared run with full sails straining in the gale nor deliberately turned side on to a huge breaker to feel it cascade lovingly down her back. Other ships were not made as she was.
Her name had been different once, when the sailor-priests of the isles of Zin had lovingly crafted her. They had carved her hull and decks from the hardiest of woods and had whispered charms to keep her safe and sound, and had given her a sibilant name that her current captain could never have pronounced. Then they had looked upon her and her sisters and had declared her the finest they had made and so, as was their way, she had been sacrificed to the sea.
The sea had accepted the gift and had held the little boat in her hands and blessed it as only a goddess can. The iron strength of the spells upon the little ship had suddenly become as adamant. The goddess had told her that she was now under the goddesses' protection. She would never need fear the sea, for she would never sink nor run aground.
She gained a new name then, a secret name, with a secret purpose. For many years she served as a messenger and a confidant of the goddess, carrying handsome sailors to her mistress to ease the emptiness of the coral palace while the storm god was away. And then one day she had been sent to fetch her current captain.
He had been handsome and daring, intelligent and caring and when presented to the goddess the two had fallen deeply in love. So deeply that they lost all track of time and were surprised by the return of the storm god.
His rage was immense and he tried to kill the young sailor but the goddess managed to stay his hand and calm his temper so that her mortal lover could escape in the ship. She bequeathed it to him as a parting gift and the little vessel gained a new captain, and a new name.
That was not all that was gained though. The storm god's rage was not so easily contained as the goddess had hoped he had thrown a curse after the swiftly departing sailor. If ever he dared return to the sea again, he was told, the storm god would not stay his hand, and would smite him with his full fury. And so it had proven to be. From that day forward whenever the captain put to sea, the wind would rise and the fury of the storm god would come again, and the ship, now called Storm Dancer would scream her delight to the sky as the power of the wind threw her across the ocean.
Her daring captain had made a good living out of the enmity of the storm god and the gift of the sea goddesses' ship. He sailed with cargoes and people that had such an urgency to reach their destinations that they were willing to brave the pounding waves and the screaming winds to get where they were going weeks earlier than any other ship could have delivered her, and to pay handsomely for the privilege.
And now, as countless times before, dawn was rising and Storm Dancer was nearing port, exhausted, disheveled and spent from days and nights of the storm gods attention. The storm was fading quickly as well, as if spent of all strength, but it would return as soon as she and her captain put back to sea. First though, she would rest in port as her torn sails were replaced, ropes were respliced and new sailors sought to replace the few who would inevitably have had enough of the furious shuddering passages.
And as she would sit and be ministered to, the doubts and the guilt would come again, as they always did. Her captain and the sea were in as much love as they had always been, and Storm Dancer could have no part of that. On the other hand, the storm god was known to be fickle and as quick to lose anger as to gain it. Why then had he enforced his curse with as much stubborn determination as he had shown?
Could the storm god still be angry at her captain, after all this time, or was it something else? Could he know that Storm Dancer had fallen madly in love with him, his strength and his majesty? Might he be returning time and again because he felt something similar? Storm Dancer dared not hope for that. For now she was content that soon again they would put to sea and the storms would come, and she would dance for her lover.
****
The wind howled its fury and the rain came down as if the ocean and sky had momentarily changed places. The thunder was a constant deafening drumbeat and the lightning was a continuous glare. And at the heart of the storm she danced for sheer delight. Reveling in the power and the passion of the elements, she leapt nimbly from wave top to wave top and then decided to play tag with moving foam-crested walls three times her height. A night like this and a storm like this was what gave her existence meaning! Her enthusiasm could not be contained but her cries of joy were torn away from her by the wind so that even the little men that she carried in her bosom could not hear it.
Other ships would have been intimidated by a storm such as this, she knew. They would not have dared run with full sails straining in the gale nor deliberately turned side on to a huge breaker to feel it cascade lovingly down her back. Other ships were not made as she was.
Her name had been different once, when the sailor-priests of the isles of Zin had lovingly crafted her. They had carved her hull and decks from the hardiest of woods and had whispered charms to keep her safe and sound, and had given her a sibilant name that her current captain could never have pronounced. Then they had looked upon her and her sisters and had declared her the finest they had made and so, as was their way, she had been sacrificed to the sea.
The sea had accepted the gift and had held the little boat in her hands and blessed it as only a goddess can. The iron strength of the spells upon the little ship had suddenly become as adamant. The goddess had told her that she was now under the goddesses' protection. She would never need fear the sea, for she would never sink nor run aground.
She gained a new name then, a secret name, with a secret purpose. For many years she served as a messenger and a confidant of the goddess, carrying handsome sailors to her mistress to ease the emptiness of the coral palace while the storm god was away. And then one day she had been sent to fetch her current captain.
He had been handsome and daring, intelligent and caring and when presented to the goddess the two had fallen deeply in love. So deeply that they lost all track of time and were surprised by the return of the storm god.
His rage was immense and he tried to kill the young sailor but the goddess managed to stay his hand and calm his temper so that her mortal lover could escape in the ship. She bequeathed it to him as a parting gift and the little vessel gained a new captain, and a new name.
That was not all that was gained though. The storm god's rage was not so easily contained as the goddess had hoped he had thrown a curse after the swiftly departing sailor. If ever he dared return to the sea again, he was told, the storm god would not stay his hand, and would smite him with his full fury. And so it had proven to be. From that day forward whenever the captain put to sea, the wind would rise and the fury of the storm god would come again, and the ship, now called Storm Dancer would scream her delight to the sky as the power of the wind threw her across the ocean.
Her daring captain had made a good living out of the enmity of the storm god and the gift of the sea goddesses' ship. He sailed with cargoes and people that had such an urgency to reach their destinations that they were willing to brave the pounding waves and the screaming winds to get where they were going weeks earlier than any other ship could have delivered her, and to pay handsomely for the privilege.
And now, as countless times before, dawn was rising and Storm Dancer was nearing port, exhausted, disheveled and spent from days and nights of the storm gods attention. The storm was fading quickly as well, as if spent of all strength, but it would return as soon as she and her captain put back to sea. First though, she would rest in port as her torn sails were replaced, ropes were respliced and new sailors sought to replace the few who would inevitably have had enough of the furious shuddering passages.
And as she would sit and be ministered to, the doubts and the guilt would come again, as they always did. Her captain and the sea were in as much love as they had always been, and Storm Dancer could have no part of that. On the other hand, the storm god was known to be fickle and as quick to lose anger as to gain it. Why then had he enforced his curse with as much stubborn determination as he had shown?
Could the storm god still be angry at her captain, after all this time, or was it something else? Could he know that Storm Dancer had fallen madly in love with him, his strength and his majesty? Might he be returning time and again because he felt something similar? Storm Dancer dared not hope for that. For now she was content that soon again they would put to sea and the storms would come, and she would dance for her lover.