top of page
mockup01-1.jpg

CHAPTER FIVE

JOEL

​

Thunder dominates the sky, as if a colossal battle of giants rages somewhere behind the wall of blackened rain clouds. I tremble in fear, consumed by memories of the tornado that devastated our home when I was a boy.

​

I remember now. I remember how it started, how green and thick the clouds became, how the twister growled as it rampaged across the landscape and carved a wide and devastating swathe through our town. The churning tempest was a monster—alive, full of anger and darkness and horror.

​

I’d huddled with my family in our storm shelter lit by lantern-light, watching as our shadows danced on the walls. To my seven-year-old eyes, they were like writhing specters foreshadowing our doom.

​

After leveling our home and turning the land into a barren moonscape, the twister rumbled on, wiping everything in its path from the face of the earth. The storm claimed twenty-three people that evening. One of them was my grandmother.

​

The storm above me now is eerily similar. It’s a living, breathing presence—the booming thunder its heart, the wind its restless breath, the rain and lightning its unquenchable fury. As every muscle tenses, my being, Ori, has to steady me before I run away screaming.

​

Ori touches my right shoulder, melding into it, his shimmering, etheric hand warm and pleasant. “Put aside your fear.” Hearing his words in my head calms me enough to breathe a little easier. “Do not acknowledge it.” Ori inclines his head toward the storm. “Use your mind, your thoughts, and stretch them far into the clouds.” His quiet voice is soft in contrast to the panic that lingers in my mind, but even Ori’s soothing words can’t wash away the fear completely.

​

I gaze into the wall of darkness. There, my mind sees twisted faces form in the shapes of the clouds. Voices echo, and thunder shudders against the walls of my chest, booming harder than the pounding of my heart.

​

I shut my eyes, focus on Ori’s presence, and allow the fear to siphon into his hand, then stretch out with my inner self, penetrate the storm, and experience the essence of it, so I may embrace and conquer the fear. 

​

Ori melds into me from the side, creating an entirely new vision of the world, and of the storm. I’m frozen in place as my body adjusts to the invasion.

​

“In your mind, push toward the center of the storm. Tell me what you feel there.”

​

I rip into the tempest, fresh, free, and clear in my thoughts now, seeking the secrets hidden among the clouds.

​

“Good, you are there,” Ori’s voice remains subdued, even nurturing. “Now, find the heart of the storm, the power that drives it.”

​

Fear rises again, distracting me, as Ori allows me to battle bits of it at a time. This is good. I’ll need the practice. I mustn’t rely upon Ori to solve my problems; he won’t always be with me.

​

I myself must fight against that which hinders me.

​

Finally, I gain control. It’s then that I sense different wind speeds. The patterns of the tempest form around and circle in on one large, central point.

​

My awareness wanders toward the place where the winds lead, going deeper, further, until I caress the storm’s heart.

​

“Yes,” Ori whispers, “you have found it. The area of lowest pressure is the force that draws in the air, condenses moisture from it, and forms the storm. Can you sense the difference between the heart and the rest of the storm?”

​

“Yes,” I reply. My voice sounds distant, contemplative, nothing like my own.

​

“And does it have a shape?”

​

“It does have a shape. And there’s a being within it. Her color is a dark purple.”

​

“It is. And what is she doing?”

​

“She ...” My soul reaches out to the being within the storm. “She guards—no, nurtures the void.”

​

“Yes, excellent observation, Master Joel. Now, you will do the same. While your friends use energy in a positive or enhancing way, you will do the opposite. You will create negative energy.”

​

Wow.

​

“Decrease the pressure,” Ori instructs. “Deepen it.”

​

Trusting my instincts, I define the outline of the point of lowest pressure. Then, I caress the heart of it, expanding its size and increasing its strength over several minutes. 

​

“Now increase its natural rotation. Work with the shape to make it stronger.”

​

I visualize an elongated, pointy-ended oval in my mind. It seems right, that this is the proper shape to use. I allow the storm to move in its natural counter-clockwise rotation, and enhance the void, making it bigger, speeding the rotation of the storm. 

​

I smile, astounded at what I’m capable of accomplishing. Ori allows more of my fear of the storm to come into play, reminding me not to get too cocky, that this isn’t all me, that this isn’t as easy as it seems.

​

Breathe away the fear, Joel. Cast it aside. Focus on your task.

​

Ori seems pleased with my efforts. “Allow the storm to draw in warm air from below, as well as the cool air from above.”

​

I comply, leaving fear as a distant memory. The winds now follow my wishes, churning together around the great void.

​

“Open your eyes,” Ori whispers, “look into the storm to see what you have caused to occur.”

​

My eyes open. I zoom my vision through the thick veil of clouds and rain, and there it is, a spinning horizontal shaft of air, forming a large vortex within the clouds.

​

“Now comes the most difficult part. Sustain the void at its heart. Support the negative energy but bring the positive into the equation as well. Caress the funnel, right it. Let the end drop down from the storm. Allow the resulting twister to change and grow. Bring it closer to us.”

​

Ori closes his eyes and relaxes into my being. He gives me more of himself, more of his power without interference, and things become twice as clear.

​

I now have full control over the vortex.

​

I coax the end out of the clouds and set the vortex atop the sea, twisting and playing with its shape, size, and speed. It’s not the storm I control, nor the elements—it’s the surrounding energy. A stark realization hits me: I can conduct positive and negative energy simultaneously. 

​

Curious, I bring the funnel toward the ship—closer, inch by inch. The wind, screaming from behind, plasters my clothes against my skin.

​

The thing that once destroyed my life now hovers before me, compelled to obey my wishes. It’s fascinating to stand before this mighty force of nature, unaffected by its power, unaffected by anything. 

​

The twister will never hear me, never understand my words, but I speak them anyway. “I want my grammy back,” I whisper, “and my town, and the other people you took.”

​

I no longer fear that horrible twister of long ago, nor do I fear this one. I feel nothing but the sorrow, emptiness, and pain that the storm once brought to my life.

​

“The time has come for you to experience your potential, Master Joel.”

​

Ori’s essence blends with mine, much deeper than before, and our boundaries find no limits. At once, we’re in the air,  ascending, surrounded by sheets of rain, leaving the yacht far below us.

​

As we rise farther, my mental essence disburses. Over time, bit by bit, I dissolve into the wind, separated from my body, which now hovers some distance below. My consciousness releases itself completely ... and merges with the vortex.

​

I am the twister, potent and hungry, seeking whom I may devour. No longer confined to my own mind or body, I become tall, majestic, and strong—alive as a mad swirl of clouds and rain. I savor the beauty, the symmetry, the unbridled power, and lose myself in my own perfection.

​

Lightning strikes sideways and inverted, up into my core, but it does not frighten me. The rain, which streaks past in unrecognizable blurs, now slows to a crawl. I sense each droplet that passes. The size and density of every molecule within every drop is mine to know, mine to command—loyal subjects awaiting the bidding of their king.

​

There is no feeling in pure energy. No limitations of thought or body. No pain. No numbness. Only release. I long to stay this way, indistinguishable from the clouds, one with them, roaming the sky without care.

​

Below me hovers my body, my arms still outstretched at my sides. I’m not sure I want to go back to it.

​

“Master Joel.”

​

I detect Ori’s quiet voice and watch the raindrops vibrate in the wake of its resonance. As Ori guides me, my thoughts unite and the patterns of my consciousness intermingle again, breaking the spell this experience holds over me.

​

“Release the void. Come back to yourself. Allow the Storm Dweller to resume control.”

​

Over time, my thoughts become my own, and my consciousness settles into its proper form within my body again. I reluctantly follow Ori’s request and relinquish my governance to the dark-purple creature at the center of the tempest.

​

As the funnel slowly dissipates around me, the water I picked up collapses into the ocean as my mind, body, and consciousness complete their union.

​

My arms rise. I reach for the storm, longing to be one with it again. But Ori takes us back to the deck instead. He un-melds from within me and moves away.

​

Ori pauses for a moment, looking deep into my eyes. “Use your thoughts to your advantage, not to your disadvantage. When you learn to do so, you will unleash the potential that lies inside you.” 

​

Ori holds my gaze for a brief time before rising into the storm, leaving me to question the meaning of his words.

​

It takes several minutes before I’m able to fully grasp where I am, for me to realize that I am myself again, and not one with that incredible storm as I was only moments ago.

​

As I take in the deck, reacquainting myself with reality, I become aware of Logan’s jealous gaze as it burns a hole through me. 

​

He stares at me from the railing near the command center, and I can’t escape the look he has in his eyes.

​

It’s murderous.

​

bottom of page