The wind whips and beats everything around it into a state of frenzy. The sky overhead rumbles and roars and flashes, sending needle-sharp fat drops of icy rain pelting to the turbulent brine below, as well as bolts of lightning which touch the very tip of the dark-watery hills.
I laugh over the noises of the mirky canopy of clouds above, while riding on the wind and the water, darting here and there to my heart's content. I am free, for once; free of everything, anything. The storm is power, but without the ensuing responsibility. The storm is what I am, or so people say… but there is no one to comment on it here and now. I am far into a desolate sea. No one bothers me, and I bother nobody.
But I have Lord Ulmo to thank for it. He lets me play and flirt with the tempest, while other lords and ladies would have removed and banned me from the sea long before.
Then again, he received me back into his service after everything that I had done. Not even my spouse was that merciful of my betrayal and transgressions.
Perhaps, this dangerous game is not only for me to feel a little bit of freedom, after all. It is as well an escape from my problems, from the distrust of the others… and from their fear. It is there when my spouse is not, and it comforts me while she shrinks from my very presence – on some occasions.
Well, what can I do? I am Terror. Although they are mistaken if they think I love to terrorise everything and everyone around me. I am Terror… but I can also feel terrorised.