THE ALPHA'S LOST HEIR
The air was filled with a deep, chilling cold that emanated from the constant, stable Fire that glowed in the distance the alien sun.
"Mediator, thank the elements," Zeva breathed, rushing over. "The storm is here. We have minutes."
The chaos was overwhelming. The massive Volatile Water Storm was visible on the horizon a towering, geometric structure of lightning-fast liquid that crackled with uncontrolled energy. This was not rain; it was a wall of pure, unstable kinetic force, and its target was the dense population center on the floating continent.
The native Water Weavers beings of shimmering, volatile water were attempting to fight it, channeling frantic, rapid surges of their own chaot
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