Aella 8, - Storm     The sea tossed and raged. It beat at the cliffs again and again, throwing white foam almost to the top; out-of-place rainbows shimmered momentarily as the sunlight caught the spray then were snatched away. Beneath the waves, water dragged one way then the other, pulling Aella with it.     One moment she was pressed against the ocean floor, clutching desperately at sand. Then she was dangerously close to the rocks. Then she felt her fingers break out into the air. Then she was being pulled out to sea. Then she was being thrown towards the cliff. She was up, down, sideways, backwards. She was at the ocean’s mercy.     Aella had waited out storms before. None like this.     Before nature’s turmoil had clawed restlessly at the entrance to the cove but had failed to invade her haven. She had curled up at the bottom of her prison and closed her eyes until night came. Now the sea had caught her the moment she stepped outside, almost before she had transformed, and dragged her out into the open ocean.     Her usual sea-sense was clouded. Everything moved too fast. Her hair blinded her, billowing around her face and twisting around her neck. She desperately tried to fight the vicious currents but only thrashed helplessly inside the storm.     A sudden rush of terror filled her. The sun had just begun to slip below the horizon.     Shocked by the realisation that if she did not reach safe land in the next few minutes she would die, Aella fell completely still. The storm pulled her towards the far-too-sharp rocks. She could feel it now, the shining presence of the key around her wrist. Its presence calmed her, made her listen, make her feel. She felt the tide and the waves and the movement of the sea. The ocean danced around her and spun her towards her death.     She twisted herself away and pushed through the water, parallel to the cliff-face, pressing her eyes closed to concentrate wholly on the way the water shifted around her. She read its motions, she moved through the storm.     The secret wasn’t to fight the ocean; it was to move with it.     Somewhere ahead the sea moved differently, not against a cliff, there the sea bed sloped up and the waves reached over the barrier that held back the sea. Aella raced towards that differently moving water. Her life depended on it.     The cliffs fell back and disappeared. The sea bed reached towards the empty air. Aella realised that in normal weather with a low tide this would be the beach. The end of the ocean rose up in front of her. Aella pushed herself towards the surface and reached for land. Her fingers brushed the hard concrete of a sea-wall promenade.     The sun set.     Ã¢â‚¬Å“With a sudden wrench my sea-sense was ripped away from me. I felt coursing energy shiver through me then was suddenly weak. The cold was almost overwhelming. I was dragged beneath the waves.     Then the next wave swelled up, throwing me to the surface for a brief moment before sucking me back under. I couldn’t remember the last time I had swum as a human. The idea of drowning seemed weirdly amusing. Another wave pushed me upwards but I didn’t reach the air.     I hadn’t come this far, held out this long just to die here and now. All the pain and despair boiled into fiery anger which hardened into determination. With the next surge forwards I pushed up, managing to steal a quick gasp of air before I was pulled back beneath the waves.     Next time I pushed onto the sea wall, the waves were breaking over it then slipping back into the sea, I did the same. Again and again I grasped uselessly at the sea wall, working with the waves to move forward. Each time I broke the surface I sucked in another precious breath of air.     After who knows how many attempts I managed to grasp a metal bar set in the stone. My oddly calm mind identified that there were iron railings alongside the path which overlooked the beach. The wave withdrew, pulling me with it, but I held on. When the next wave threw me once more into the air I managed to get the upper half of my body onto dry land.     The sea sucked me back down and I lost my grip, once more pulled beneath the waves. It was so very cold.     No.     I was not going to let myself die and most certainly not like this. The sea is my ally and I refuse to let it kill me, curse or no.     With all of my strength I pushed back to the surface. Again I managed to pull myself partly onto the promenade. The sea tugged me back but I refused to let it take me. When the next wave came I pulled my legs onto the land. I was alive.     Shivering, I curled into a ball. The waves broke over me but no longer surrounded me. Rain pelted down. I became aware of the pain from my bruises and aching muscles.     When I felt able to, I sat up, pushing my hair back and wiping the water from my eyes. Strangely compelled I turned towards the ocean and knelt looking out to sea. The wind pushed my hair backwards and the waves reached out for me, spray brushed almost gently against my face. The storm raged before me and the idea that the ocean would ever really have harmed me felt oddly alien     The world around me was full of movement and noise but I had found my own personal peace. I was filled with a calm that sprung from the realisation I have survived. The sea seethed but I knew that none of its fury was for me. My calm was invaded by the sudden realisation that I was far from my lonely cove. The ocean had snatched me back to the outside world.     So I knelt on the promenade with the familiar sea before me tossing in its wild rage and behind me the unknown waited, still and patient.” Aella All other Aella stories can be found at Rhiannon’s Stories with the exceptions of 6 and 7. By Rhiannon Rose Watson. Concepts, characters, and situations copyright © 2006 reserved by Rhiannon Rose Watson. The right of Rhiannon Rose Watson to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted by her in accordance with the UK Copyright, Designs & Patents Act 1988. All rights reserved.

Some very evocative writing here in the ebb and flow of the storm against the shore and Aella's struggles against it. I'm definitely interested to see where the story goes now that she finds herself tossed back to civilization...

And I am glad to see she made it (eventually) to land outside of the cove and cave.

Don't just sit there Aella - run free!

Looking forward to seeing what she does do next.

Well if she's got any common sense she'll go somewhere dry.

I'm not actually certain quite what to do now, I've got cetrain moments of this story planned out very clearly - this was one of them - but I've got to make it up as I go along in between. Any ideas?

I've had this chapter in my head for as long as the concepts been floating about, far longer than I've actually been writing this stuff. Years back when Alex still took swimming lessons but I didn't I'd spend the time in the main pool which had waves every so often, my favourite game was trying to get out of the water while the waves were on so I gad a basis for what that would be like to write from.

>Any ideas?

She peers through the haze of the surf and the storm to see the bright lights of the famed city of Parodiopolis glinting through the rain in the distance.

Does she make her way towards them?