Welcome to Gaia! ::

Heat. 

Scorching sun flames poured sweat down Emmerich’s back, prodding salt sting blindness into his bright eyes. He snorted, wafting hot dust from his nose, and raised his eyes to the bleached yellow sky. It glared relentlessly back at him. He’d been assigned to patrol the barrens for the day, keeping a shoulder to Homewood and an eye on the beige void of cracked sand. It was easy to spot shapes on the horizon here, black splatters of life against desolate yellow. He was to drive off predators - the few that scratched a living out here - and noulicorns stumbling back for refuge would find Emmerich quickly at their sides to guide them home. Or carry them. 

But the heat, that unbearably swirling dust storm of iron hot air weighed down like bricks and sucked all the air from his lungs. Air so thick he swam in it. 

Keeping noulicorns safe wasn’t his only duty. 

Emmerich paused and lowered his head, grounding himself with flexing hooves and a sharp tail slash. Sweet icy fingers of his power wound up his body and burst over his horn. He shivered, ozone scent and electrified goose pimples raising his flesh. 

Grey swirled above him, twirling a stormy dance until it formed into thick, black clouds, ripe with rain. Another breath, a pause where Emmerich inhaled the soothing scent of storm clouds, and the rain fell in fat drops around him. 

“There.” Emmerich nodded sharply. “Enough to cool the sweat of my flanks.” 

It wouldn’t last long against the pounding sun but he cherished the momentary reprieve.

You there!

The pitiful rainfall proved cover enough for the beat of hooves snapping the cracked earth. Emmerich swung his head toward the cry and watched as a deep purple doe raced toward him. He bit off a chuckle as she galloped tempestuous circles around him. She’d zoomed in from the north, so probably a newly christened apprentice come down from Grandfather Tree. A solar user maybe? Or an atmos like him?

“Won’t last long,” he said by way of greeting. “Cool off while you can, you’ve still got a ways to Homewood if that’s where you’re headed.”

A safe bet. Most of the nouls Emmerich came across on barren patrol were coming or going from Homewood. Visitors from the tree, wanderers bringing in new findings, or just curious souls who wanted to dip their hooves in the desolate heat to get a bite of Vykeli’s wasteland.

Emmerich watched the plum-colored doe with a deepening sense of dread. How much energy could one noul have? Those antics would wear her out long before she reached Homewood. He took a moment to sort out of the barrage of words she’d thrown at him. 

“Fresh away from Grandfather tree, huh?” How many seasons passed since Emmerich made the journey? It’d been an age since he clambered down the plateau, sizzling with new power under his skin. Elsie begged him to show her how his powers worked, but there was nothing he could do out in the barrens with purify and curses, he wasn’t gonna bring her to the bog. 

He’d gone when she fell asleep that night, snuck away between the brambles for the first patch of polluted air he could find. His first attempt had been a pitiful sputter that burst an eyeball sized bubble of clear air through the poison. 

And now he summoned rain clouds. What a journey. 

“You’ve got to…” he trailed off. No one had taught him how to use his powers when he was young. His parents weren’t around for their due diligence. He’d had to figure it out himself. 

Standing hip-deep in the swamp, eyes clamped shut, straining and snarling for something to happen. He felt it first as a buzz under his skin, prickling electric fingers pulling at strands of awakened powers. A deep breath, exhale, and with that his horn glowed a soft blue and cleansed the surrounding air. Felt like being on fire and doused under water silmutaniously. Magnificent. 

His drizzle of clouds began to wane. 

“All that energy you’ve got?” he said to the stranger. “Stop a minute and let it build up inside you. As much as you can, ‘til you can’t stand it, and then… let go.” 

At first, Emmerich’s interest in the stranger’s attempt was mild, pacifying a kid straight out of Grandfather Tree. He wanted to help, sure, but he didn’t expect to be taken with due seriousness. Ancestor’s asses, in adolescence he’d have snorted and trotted off if an adult told him how to work his power. But the doe’s intensity grabbed him and he found himself holding his breath, nostrils flared at the growing scent of ozone crackling between them.

The dim shadow of cloud cover whisked over him and he looked up. The first billows of grey stirred above their heads, ripe with rain. Emmerich chuckled, rapsy, and the clouds broke, drizzling slim drops at their feet. One landed on his muzzle and slipped the line of his cheek, cooling his skin in its wake.

“You did it!” He took a step toward the doe and flashed her a grin. “Better first try than mine, too.”

She’d get no more relief from the Barren’s heat for her journey home, though, and she still had a ways yet before she’d reach the treeline. Emmerich had another trick he could teach her, though.

He scraped a hoof at the hard dirt, chucking layers of sand away until a divet formed, a few inches deep and just wide enough for a noulicorn to dip their nose. Emmerich tended not to carry water with him, relying on his gift instead. Too much weight slowed him down, and a couple seconds off the clock could cost his life while patrolling for predators.

The hole he’d dug began to fill with rain water, mostly devoid of silt from the hardness of the earth. Clean enough to drink and fresh enough not to taste like a scuttle scale’s belly.

“This’ll probably be your last drink before you reach home. Have at it.” He paused, adding. “Name’s Emmerich.”

Emmerich watched her drink with a cocked half-smile. Couldn’t even keep her feet still doing that, could she? She’d probably burn herself before she reached the treeline, but she’d cooled off and filled the tanks, so he figured she wouldn’t be too bad off. He’d keep an eye out for her on the horizon, though.

“Stay out of trouble!” he shouted at her back as she took off for Homewood. She probably wouldn’t, with energy like that, and Emmerich found himself alright with that thought. Tempest was a good name. Had her parents guessed or did Vykeli decide to punish them with that ball of rambunctiousness when they named her that?

He shook his head and turned away. He had a patrol to finish.