In a land of powerful gods that live everywhere from the most dangerous storms to the heart of industry, the deepest mines to every throw of the dice, mere mortals struggle to preserve themselves. Yet hidden away in the everyday actions of everyday life, pieces have begun moving, a centuries-old dance coming to its final set of steps.
On a dock, by the sea, a young boy wishes for a seafaring storm to make landfall and this storm, hearing him, alters its course. Now, as you must understand, I find this considerably peculiar. Most younglings possessed of such powers are at least aware of their gifts and, if even that is not so, those around them tend to notice the errant levitating stone or song conjured out of nothingness. Yet Elam, wrought of a magic perhaps too grand for proper noticing or beyond anything one might expect to see, has not a shadow’s notion regarding the wonder within himself.