Storm
An unnatural wind tore through the clouds around the cliff where they stood. The elder feline clapped
his paws.
"Impressive, Molan." He said, turning to his pupil. "However, you've still barely scratched the surface."
Ba'al stepped to the edge. In one fluid motion, he swung his arms out, then drew his paws inward to
his belly, then up to his chest, inhaling deeply before thrusting them sharply outward. A gust of
freezing wind ripped through the sky, but this one was massive, cutting a great path several meters
long in the clouds surrounding them. The cougar turned to face Molan. "Keep practicing. The village
made a good choice in giving you to me for training." He said, patting the young lion on the back before
leaving the ledge.
As the elder storm god collapsed into the ragged chair in his hovel on the cliff, Molan continued
practicing as he'd been told. His first few attempts got him just little breezes and it frustrated him. The
feline copied Ba'al's movements sharply and soon regretted it as the resulting blast of wind lifted and
carried him off the cliff.
"MASTER!" Molan screamed. Ba'al shook his head. There was a flash and he was at the edge. He set
his sight on the falling feline and pointed sharply at him. As Molan fell toward the forest below, he was
suddenly surrounded in a sphere of light. Ba'al pointed upward, guiding the sphere back to the cliff.
When the younger feline was safe, the sphere dissipated, leaving him on his paws and knees,
practically kissing the ground.
"And that is ball lightning." Ba'al said. "Perhaps we should call it a day." The feline continued,
grabbing a scrap of cloth and began twisting it from the ends.
Molan opened his mouth to protest, then thought better of it. He had nearly died just then. "I
guess you're right. Tomorrow's a big day."
"Oh is it?" Ba'al asked, sliding large black beads and shells and such onto either end.
"Yes. Tomorrow is my coming of age." Molan replied, getting up off the ground and walking over to
Ba'al. "I'm finally turning eighteen and what exactly are you doing?"
The cougar chuckled and pointed below Molan's waist. Much to the lion's chagrin, the wind that took
him from the ledge also stripped him of his loincloth. He quickly turned away from Ba'al, covering
himself. The cougar just laughed and stepped up behind him, tying the new loincloth around the lion's
waist for him.
"Perils of being a storm god." He said. "It's happened to me before." Ba'al held his arms around the
mortified lion. "You're going to make a great successor, you know." He murmured into Molan's ear.
The cougar could tell that his student was more concerned with how stupid he'd looked flying off the
cliff than being exposed to his master.
Molan sighed. "I'll be the best I can, but this is hard." The lion turned around in Ba'al's arms and
returned his embrace. "If I'm your successor, what will happen to you?"
The cougar chuckled and patted Molan on the head. "Do not worry about that. It is just in case
anything should ever happen to me."
"Well, what happened to your master?"
Ba'al shook his head. "I would rather not say." The cougar said, releasing the lion. "It is in the past and
should stay there. Should it happen to me, you should leave me in the past as well." Ba'al said, falling
back onto his ragged throne. "It is getting late. You should be going. I would not want you to run into
Ca'ahri out there." The storm god chuckled darkly.
Ba'al was the only one who would speak so boldly of Ca'ahri. Ca'ahri was the night itself. In darkness,
he was everywhere at once, keeping a watchful eye on Firemouth Village in the forest, but there was
a price. For each year of protection, Ca'ahri demanded a new consort - a virgin from the village.
Stepping outside the village at night would draw his eye and roaming the forest too long would draw
him closer. There had been several disappearances of young males and females attributed to Ca'ahri's
lust. The only thing the night god wanted was sex, so the question was why they never made it back.
The lion nodded and picked up his quiver and bow from beside Ba'al's throne. As he made his way to
the winding stone path down from the Throne of Storms, the cougar's voice stopped him. "Study well.
Tomorrow you will have to jump down. Goodbye."
Molan smirked. "Goodbye, master." the lion said back. He whirled around on one foot, shifting the
wind around his body and lifting himself slightly off the ground. The feline ran down the winding path
back to Firemouth.
That night, Molan lay in his bed - the pelts of several animals he'd killed spread over a patch of soft dirt
- idly twisting the beads on the loincloth his master had made for him. Tomorrow was supposed to be
an exciting day, but he couldn't shake the meaning of his coming of age. Unlike most of the other
teenagers of his village, he'd kept his paws and other appendages to himself, making him one of three
virgins that Ca'ahri could demand. It also didn't help that his birthday fell on the first of the year, within
that week was when the night god chose his new consort. Suddenly he regretted not taking one of
many offers he'd gotten from the other young feline's in the village.
He couldn't be chosen, though. Molan was to be the next storm god. No one else in the village had the
power he possessed and they could not risk Ba'al's successor. He was fairly safe though. The other
two virgins were cousins.
With nothing more than the worry keeping him awake, the lion slowly drifted off to sleep, listening to
the sparse few villagers still awake outside his hut. As he slept, he began to toss and turn, seemingly
unable to get comfortable. The lion grumbled in his sleep, adjusting the pelts beneath him to no avail.
As he tossed, he felt a warm breeze surround him, shielding him from the cold, as he'd not slain
enough beasts to make himself a blanket.
The lion didn't question it - not even as it seemed to lift him from his bed of fur - too happy to finally
be comfortable. As he was lowered, his upper body seemed to stay elevated. A dull flash told why, as
Ba'al appeared. The cougar sat with his back against the wall, holding the lion in his arms as he slept.
Even from the Throne of Storms, he could feel how bothered Molan was. To be honest, so was he. It
was unlikely that the village would let Ca'ahri take the lion, even if it meant they wouldn't be
protected for the year. There had to be a successor to the storm god.
But what if they did? Ba'al shook his head. It was a ridiculous notion. If this village gave his student
away, he'd rip them apart. It'd only be fair. Molan was all he had, even though not even the lion knew
it. If they let the night god take him, he'd take everything they had. Ba'al would set a cataclysmic storm
upon them and erase Firemouth from the face of the earth.
The cougar shook the thought from his mind. As he grew more upset, his anger at the thought began
to manifest itself as strong bursts of wind all around him that lifted the little things in the hut. Molan
stirred in his arms. Ba'al gently lifted the lion a little more, resting Molan's back on his chest as he ran
his fingers through the lion's black mane.
Sometimes he wondered if the lion really slept so soundly that he never knew his master slipped into
his hut and held him every night. It was symbiotic, really. The lion never slept well until Ba'al started
coming to him at night (unbeknownst to Molan) and the cougar got to be close to Molan all the time. It
meant he had to stay up all night to leave before the younger feline awakened and sleep til noon, but
it was worth it. Ba'al rested his head on Molan's, breathing him in. Spending so much time with him at
the Throne, the lion had adopted the cougar's own scent, but there was also the somewhat unfamiliar
smell of the forest around them.
With his heightened sense of time, Ba'al could feel dawn approaching too fast. He kissed the lion's
head and sighed. He could also fell the day he'd have to stop this approaching. One day, Molan would
find someone to make a family with. When he had someone to hold, the storm god would have to
keep the distance he found himself unable to keep now.
He is young. Ba'al thought. _You have no right to keep him from someone his from his own
decade at least._ For a moment, vanity slipped into his mind. Despite being in his late forties, the
cougar looked to be only thirty-four at most. He shook his head. Molan still deserved the chance to
find a mate of his own. He couldn't take the lion as his consort, no matter how much he wanted him.
Saddened by the fact, the storm god felt a tear roll down his cheek. It wasn't dawn, but that definitely
meant it was time to go. With his emotions tied to his power, the sky would weep with him. Molan
would have to tough out the remaining couple hours on his own. Ba'al carefully slipped out from under
the lion and gently put his head down on the pelts beneath him. He pressed his lips to Molan's
forehead and in another dull flash, he was gone.
Back up at the Throne of Storms, Ba'al stood at the edge of the cliff as the rain fell. He closed his eyes
and lifted his head, letting the rain soak through his fur. He held out his arms, clearing a circle in the sky
directly above Firemouth before falling to his knees. The village did not need to feel his misery.
"Master... Master?"
Ba'al felt someone shake him. The storm god awakened to find he'd fallen asleep at the edge of the
Throne. He looked around and saw that Molan was the one who'd awakened him.
"Young one? Should you not be in the village for your ceremony?" Ba'al asked, standing from the cliff.
There was a flash and he was sprawled out on his ragged throne once more, sitting with one leg
handing over the arm of the chair. It didn't bother him at all that his loincloth was not long enough for
that, exposing his sheath and sack.
Molan wasn't perturbed either. This was common practice for the cougar. The lion shook his head.
"I've been alone since my parents died." Molan said. "It's been eight years now. If I'm not a man now,
I never will be. The elder saw it the same way and excused me from the ritual." The lion shrugged and
reached into the ragged sack slung over his shoulder, pulling out an apple and taking a bite before
offering it to Ba'al. "I'd rather be up here practicing anyway."
The storm god accepted Molan's offer, taking a bite of the fruit before returning it to him. "That is no
way to spend such a special day." The lion opened his mouth to protest, but Ba'al held up a paw to
silence him. "I will not train you today. How about we go for a walk?" the cougar suggested.
Molan shrugged. "I came up here to spend my birthday with you, so it doesn't matter what we do."
The cougar quickly gripped himself inside. Molan, like him, had no one in his life. Ba'al had to be the
closest thing he had to a friend, so it was obvious he'd want to spend the day with him. There was no
deeper reason. Settling himself down, the storm god nodded and stood from his throne and
stretched.
"Let us get going then." Ba'al said, stepping to the path down the pillar.
The pair walked the forest floor, leaving twin trails of pawprints behind them in the cool dirt. Ba'al
watched the lion make a game of dodging the patches of sunlight that made it through the canopy
above them.
"Master, how old are you?" Molan asked, returning to the cougar's side.
Too old for you was the immediate thought that came to him. "Forty-eight." Ba'al said. He
glanced to the lion beside him. "You look surprised."
"I kind of am." Molan replied. "You don't look it, and I was expecting you to be older, like in the
hundreds."
Ba'al chuckled and shook his head. "My master, Ekaitz, was like that. He was over six hundred and only
looked about fifty."
"Wow, will I live to be that old?"
The cougar nodded, stroking the fur on his chin. "We live forever, but how we look depends on how
we feel." Right now, he could fell himself aging. Being here - walking through the woods with Molan -
slowed it, but it didn't make him happy enough to stave it off completely.
"So if I stay happy, I won't age?" Molan laughed. "I'll be eighteen forever."
"Do not get too excited, young one." Ba'al said with a smirk. "Not until you are a god."
"Oh, come on, master." The lion said. He hopped in front of the cougar and walked backward as he
spoke. "I can make rain and wind, spin tornadoes and clear the sky. What else do I have to do to
become a god?! ACK!" He barely had time to finish his tirade before a root from a nearby tree tripped
him.
Ba'al held his paw up high and the sky above them darkened, then suddenly brightened as several
bolts of lightning struck in the clouds. A golden bolt streaked down from the electrical storm above and
struck the cougar's paw, not fazing him at all. He didn't even flinch.
"Survive that and I will recognize you as a god." He said, smirking at the awestruck lion once more.
"Lightning is the most difficult and dangerous element you must command. Show me mastery of it and
your training is complete." He cleared the storm from the sky and offered the lion his paw, pulling him
up off the ground.
"That'll take forever." The lion said as Ba'al dusted him off.
"Bah, nonsense. You're a quick study." Ba'al replied. "Let us go for a swim. There is a pond up ahead."
Molan shook his head. "The sun will set soon." He said, looking around. The lion was worried. Ba'al
despised the grip of fear Ca'ahri had on the people here.
"Then how about I take you back to Firemouth?"
"If it's alright with you, could I camp at the Throne?" the lion asked, rubbing the back of his head. "I
know I don't need to be afraid of Ca'ahri, but I can't shake the feeling that I'm not safe unless I am up
there."
Ba'al chuckled and nodded. "I suppose it is not a problem. The Throne will be your home one day, why
not?"
The lion shook his head. "The Throne is yours. I can't take your home."
"When I leave this life, I mean."
Molan disagreed again. "Don't say that. If gods are immortal, then you'll live forever. You can't leave
me alone here, I'll mess up!"
The cougar shook his head, patting Molan's mane. "You were born for this. I would not leave my
throne in the care of anyone else."
The lion's blue eyes flashed, angry now. "Master, I will not let you leave me alone here. I don't care
what it takes, if feeling good keeps a god young and alive, I'll do whatever it takes to keep you happy."
The sky above them darkened again and the wind whipped around where they stood. If this kept up,
the lion's emotions would cause a tornado. He reached out and took one of Ba'al's paws. "I don't get
along with anyone in Firemouth. I hardly even know the names of the others." He looked up to the
cougar. "You're the only person I know, and if you died I would really be alone."
Ba'al smiled serenely at the quivering lion, pulling him into a one-armed embrace. "Calm down, young
one. Forget I even brought it up." He said, taking control of the storm Molan's irritation had started.
Ba'al called down the imminent tornado, letting it touch the ground long enough to swallow them up
before returning to the sky.
The storm deposited them back at the Throne and dissipated. Ba'al looked to the lion clinging to him,
watching him step back and try to cover drying his eyes with scratching his forehead.
"Sorry about that, master." Molan said, turning away from the cougar and stepping to the edge of the
cliff.
Ba'al stepped up behind him and put his arms around the lion again. "It is alright. I appreciate your
concern for me."
"I don't want to be alone..." Molan said, staring blankly out into the sky. Ba'al couldn't see it, but his
eyes were now white instead of blue and his pupils were gone.
The storm god could feel the lion quivering again. The air around him was cold. Ba'al held him closer.
"Calm down." He commanded. The cougar's voice wasn't loud, but it was firm enough to get the
message across, and not a moment too soon. It had begun to snow on the two of them. Molan took a
deep breath. "You must get a handle on your emotions. Do you see what happens?" the cougar asked,
brushing snowflakes out of the lion's mane.
Molan sighed. "I'm sorry, master." He said, putting is paws on top of the cougar's. "I'll try not to think
about it anymore.
"It is alright." Ba'al said. He kissed the lion on the top of his head and let go of him. When Molan turned
around not five seconds later(having waited for his eyes to change back), he'd set up a pile of wood to
burn. The lion had turned around just in time to see Ba'al call down a bolt of lightning to start the fire.
"How do you do things so quickly." The lion asked, coming to sit next to the fire.
Ba'al chuckled. "Quickness is a trait of lightning." The cougar flickered, then he was next to Molan,
leaving a golden arc of lightning behind him that disappeared a split second later. Molan rested his
head on Ba'al's shoulder and the cougar patted the lion's mane.
"Tell me something funny, master." Molan said, leaning into the elder feline.
The storm god chuckled. "I defied Ekaitz once and he struck me with lightning."
Molan cocked an eyebrow at him. "That's not funny."
"Ah, you didn't let me finish." The cougar said. "He did it from behind, while I was facing him. "
The lion put his paw to his mouth and snickered. "Your master struck you on the ass with a lightning
bolt? No way!"
Ba'al smirked and leaned away from the lion, lifting the back of his loincloth to reveal a circular patch
on his right cheek were no fur would grow.
Molan gasped and laughed, reaching out and prodding at the patch of skin. "That had to hurt! You
wouldn't do that to me, would you?!" the lion asked.
The cougar shook his head. "I would not, but I did deserve it. I was a very bratty student." Ba'al
chuckled. "Ekaitz said his only wish was that I'd get a successor just like me back then. Too bad he
didn't get his wish." He said, putting his arm around the lion and drawing him close. "I got a much
better one."
The remainder of the day went on quickly. Molan told Ba'al what he knew was happening in
Firemouth. The cougar didn't speak much, far more content to listen to the lion. That was another
thing he'd miss when the time came and Molan chose a mate. Once the lion began working on a
family, he wouldn't have time to come up here every day like now. Ba'al pushed the thought away.
He'd enjoy it now while he could.
After the sun set, the cougar gathered the tattered old jade and amethyst blankets covering his ragged throne
and piled them near the dying fire. Ba'al returned to his throne while Molan got comfortable.
"I've been thinking about what you said down there." The cougar said. "I agree, you're just about
ready to be a god. Sleep well. We'll start on lightning tomorrow."
"Thank you, master." The lion yawned.
He fell asleep quickly, and as Ba'al knew he would, started to toss and turn. The cougar gave Molan a
few minutes to be sure that he was deep enough asleep that he could lie next to him unnoticed. As he
had the night before - every night before - he put his arms around the sleeping lion. Immediately,
Molan calmed. The cougar couldn't help but wonder what Molan dreamed about that made him stir so
violently in his sleep.
Then the sun rose, Ba'al pretended to sleep sprawled out on his throne. With his eyes barely open, he
watched the lion wake up and stretch. The lion stepped to the edge and undid his loincloth, letting it
fall to the ground. What was he up to? The cougar definitely wanted to get his arms around him now.
Molan held out his arms. Clouds gathered above the lion and immediately began pouring rain on him.
The clever lion was showering. Once he was done, he spun a tornado from the clouds to dry himself.
When the lion turned around, Ba'al closed his eyes to avoid an inexplicable tent in his loincloth. With
his eyes closed, he didn't see it coming when Molan threw the blankets he'd slept on over him.
"There you go." The lion whispered. "I'll be back later."
Ba'al heard the wind pick up around him as the lion spun another small twister to carry himself down
the path from the Throne.
--That Day--
"Molan, I must speak with you." The village elder said from behind the scrap of cloth serving as a door
to the lion's hut.
"Come in." he said, sitting up on his pelt bed as the black wolf slipped through the door. "What's the
matter, Alekona?" Molan asked, noting the serious expression on his face.
Alekona shook his head. "I have bad news." He said. "The night god, Ca'ahri has come to me. He has
chosen a consort."
The lion felt his heart do a jackknife into his stomach. He didn't hear the canine's words, as his ears
began to ring loudly. Alekona would not have come to him if his assumption wasn't correct.
Of the three virgins within Firemouth, the night god had chosen him.