This story is in response to the Sunday Photo Fiction challenge, hosted by Alistair Forbes, that asks that you write a story / poem of around 200 words using the photo as a guide.
Master of the Storm
Gerent closed his eyes, his head thrown back and arms cast wide as the buffeting wind swirled around him. Rain drenched him through to his skin, encasing him in chill fabric. The power of the storm enlivened his senses and set his magic alight.
It was strange to think he’d once hated being apprenticed to the Weather Witch. He’d thought himself condemned to a life of drudgery, summoning and dismissing rain-clouds for farmers like his predecessor, accepting payment in cabbages. Thankfully, ambition and ability had allowed his skills to be deployed far more rewardingly than that.
After several violent storms had bombarded the Citadel in quick succession, the High Lord was willing to pay any price to avoid the devastation of another.
Gerent cast his magic out, lightning dancing around him as he bound the storm to his will. He couldn’t help but grin as he drew its roiling energies into the vial in his hand. For a while the High Lord’s payment would allow him to live the wealthy life he deserved. He corked the bottle and slipped it back into his pocket.
Once the money ran out, then it would be time to release his storm once more.
Word Count: 200
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