Then the storm came. It came crashing over the sky, sucking away the purple and turning the day black. Blacker than any night I had ever known. The rain fell like mountains and without warning. It knocked me to the ground, which quickly became mud. Mother lifted me up and ran inside. The rain battered against our home like waves slapping against a great ocean ship. The door rattled and the wind howled.

  I was terrified. I thought the world was ending. Akmuo and Medis clung to each other and LoPa clung to them, his face wracked by anxiety.

  Mother oiled her sword and HoPa got the stove going to give us light and warmth.

  No stories were shared during the days of the storm. The wind and the rain were so loud I couldn’t hear anything else. Not even my heart raging in my chest or my own panicked breathing.

  So much rain fell that it leaked through the ceiling. HoPa frowned as drops slowly made their way through the soil and exchanged quick looks with mother.

  I cuddled into LoPa with my brothers. I don’t know why, but it was a comfort knowing he was afraid too. That this wasn’t normal or something I should come to expect. This was a monstrous storm that shook Saol’s bones and cracked apart the sky. It lasted for a few days. Days of shattering thunder and raging winds and neverending rain.

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  As the storm raged over days, my fear rose. It was HoPa who comforted me.

  Those are the sweetest memories of him. Curled into his huge body in the dark, the wind shrieking, the water slapping, and then his steady heartbeat. I closed my eyes and focused there. I imagined his heart must’ve been as big as I was, given the size of HoPa. His mammoth arms wrapped round me, holding me tight, comforting. It was like being enveloped in the womb again.

  He whispered to me. Only to me. Not for mother or LoPa or even my brothers. His voice so low it rumbled through my bones. His breath cold on my clammy skin. I think it was the most I ever heard him speak.

  But those words are mine. They’re for me.

  I remember all of them.

  I know I said I’d tell you my story, but this remains mine. Just mine.

  When we finally emerged, rainbows sprouted in the distance, but the ground was so soft that many of the plants were ruined. Our own garden was like a pool. Every step I took, the mud sucked my foot down into it.

  I’ve only ever seen one storm worse. The storm that stole Ranka from me.

  But that was much later. Years after the dragon took everyone else away.