Season of Spring, Day 3, 512 AV
Rarely in her life had Avari felt anything like gratitude for the divination abilities of any Konti sisters who weren't her, but she had certainly felt it during the two maddening, frightening days at the beginning of the new year. The first day, she had woken from a sound sleep to hear howling, shrieking winds outside and a strange, tingling feeling of electricity in the air, as though a bolt of lightning was poised to strike the entire world. Overhead, the roof groaned as fierce winds the likes of which it had never experienced before assailed it, and Avari heard shingles tear free and clatter against the chimney into the wind. She longed to pull the boards and planks she'd lamely propped in front of the single window in her cottage aside and see what was going on, but she feared that if she did, the thick glass would fly apart and shred her face into bloody ribbons.
Zeltiva was no stranger to high winds and powerful storms, and Avari had watched many dramatic and awe-inspiring storms at sea through her cottage window and clapped her hands over her ears to drown out their thunder. This storm, however, was different. No less than the champion of Avalis had warned the city that the storm was divine in origin and would change the face of the entire continent. The walls of her cottage shuddered ominously, and Avari went flying back to bed with a whimper, huddled under her blankets and prayed to all the gods she could think of to help her survive.
When the gods war, it's always the mortals who suffer, she thought grimly, trembling beneath her blankets and trying not to hear the scream of the wind and the crumbling of shingles on the roof.
At some point, she must have fallen asleep despite her pounding heart and the terrible clamor outside, exhausted by unrelenting worry and fear. She remembered waking up and reaching under her bed for a waterskin to take a sip of water. Ever since the Lord of Council had made her speech and informed the city of disaster, Avari had hoarded as much water and nonperishable food as she could get her hands on and stored them under her bed. She had also braced her door and window with wooden planks dragged in from the docks and piled up against each entrance. After that, she couldn't think of much else to do but take refuge indoors and pray for the best. In the dark, Avari couldn't see much, but from the fact that her cottage wasn't torn apart and the wind seemed to have quieted down a little, she guessed her precautions had done their part. The Konti breathed a sigh of relief.
She had just uncapped the waterskin when a deep, earth-shaking rumble caught her attention and held it. It was an oddly familiar sound, as though she'd heard something similar to it in the past. It had been on Mura, she thought, and she seemed to recall getting drenched from head to foot.
The bass rumble came again, and Avari had it. It was the sound of waves building up toward shore, while she had played hooky from divination classes and was building sand-monsters on the beach.
Avari only had time to wonder for a moment why she was hearing that noise in Zeltiva, but much louder, before the massive tidal wave crashed upon the shore with an impact as ear-splitting as a thunderclap. In the distance, she could hear wood creaking and cracking apart as the sea swallowed Zeltiva's famous piers. Her cottage walls shook and buckled as the wall of seawater smashed against them, and the Konti bit back a scream when she heard her chimney topple and break off entirely, landing with a clang upon the roof. The roof bulged inward with a sickening groan. Water poured in through the hole the chimney had left and through cracks in the masonry, the door frame, and the window frame, washing away the planks she'd propped up as a makeshift shield with an almost disdainful ease.
After a moment of shock, Avari twitched aside her blanket and cautiously stuck her hand out to assess the damage. At least half a foot of water covered her floor. Her blankets and pillow were damp. Faintly, she heard a sucking noise and then a bone-rattling murmur as the water receded back toward the bay, no doubt wrecking even further havoc on the already demolished docks.
A tidal surge, she thought, her mind working with surprising clarity. Of course the storm stirred up the sea. I should have been more careful. Then another, more disturbing thought occurred to her. My provisions!
Swift as a diving bird, she reached under her bed and scooped up her waterskins and the stores of food she had so carefully hoarded. The waterskins, thank goodness, hadn't been breached, and a taste of the water inside reassured her that their contents were safe and sweet. Avari's food stores, though, were ruined, except perhaps for a few bits of dried fruit. She laid the fruit and waterskins carefully atop her pillow and tossed the rest back under the bed with a disappointed sigh.
Slipping her bare feet into the cold, salty water, Avari winced as she padded over to the window and foolhardily pulled aside the drape. She didn't know if the storm had completely died down yet, but she had to know what was going on outside. Had the entire city been destroyed? What damage had been wreaked by the storm? Was there anyone else alive out there?