The storm beckons.
It calls to me, it whispers my name. It thunders of eternal pain, pleasure and torment without remorse. It begs release.
Once I listened, once I let it free. My storm raged across reality; from the darkest corners of the webway to the farthest craft and maiden worlds. With great effort and reluctance I subjugated and harnessed that storm, taking all of my even then ancient wisdom and power to stem the flow of unbridled excess.
It wounded me, it maimed me, but I endured.
I am told that even now, where my Eldarith Ynneas brothers keep themselves hidden in their dark spires, stories are still told of my ancient extravagances. They speak too in hushed, almost revered tones of the delicate equipoise I must maintain between my soul-shattering power and the ever hungering quintessence of she-who-thirsts. In aeons past I would have sat hidden in the mind of a weaker creature and listened to those stories, delighting in feeling the storm clouds gather over my soul. Like a psychic soporific, it would allow my silent, inner tempest to batter itself out against the rocks of my resolve as I listened to the regard in which my fallen kin held me. Now I am beyond such measures, I need no such indulgence; only the perfect focus of my intellect and my self-discipline.
I find myself sailing farther into the bays and havens of my mind recently. The storm clouds are always on the horizon, a dark reminder of what could be. At times I think I see the face of the enemy in those clouds, for I know she watches and waits for me.
My lot has been chosen. I am the master of my fate. I will maintain control and divest myself of these weaknesses and doubts.
Though my dark kin do not trouble themselves with such banality, they do not deny themselves indulgence. Perhaps I have outridden this storm for too long, mayhap it is time to unleash my storm on the lesser races that infest and threaten our existence.
Thunder peals like laughter….
Subject: Inner Storm 
Tue May 14 2013, 04:27
