Throwing his hands over his head, Kellen braced for the full impact of a nuclear explosion knowing nothing would save him. The wind stopped. The thunder stopped. Everything stopped. Kellen opened his eyes.

He was lying face down in a fetal position. When he looked up, a magnificent horse of swirling gray, blue, purple and white stood over him, an ethereal sculpture formed from living clouds, rain, snow, wind and storm mana. There could be no doubt it was the Storm Horse herself, though she appeared just as fragile as she had when she’d visited them after the fissure in the earth opened the totem.

“You have made quite the commotion here at the peak of my totem, human,” she said. The horse’s mouth didn’t move and Kellen couldn’t tell if she’d spoken aloud or he was hearing the words in his mind.

“Sorry, I guess things got a little carried away,” he said, feeling sheepish.

“Do not apologize, mortal,” the horse continued. “Without your meddling, I would not have been able to hold this form. The curse upon this totem constantly drains away at my mana, giving the essence of everything you see within. Even what you have done to regather it will not last long.”

“But…” Kellen trailed off. If he’d had to guess, he estimated the mana within the cloud just before it struck the tornado was the power of several paragons. He only had his single experience with Winoyah to serve as a mark, however.

“The amount of mana you gathered was indeed impressive, by mortal standards,” the horse said, tossing her head in a playful manner. “I was once a goddess of this land. All the storm mana within this totem is mine, yet it is still not enough for me to maintain my form and break free of this prison. And much of it is corrupt or has taken on an existence of its own as mana spirits over the long years.”

“Prison?” Kellen asked.

The Storm Horse nodded once. “The Wild Mother locked us away in these totems as a punishment. Never again will we walk the lands of Oras. And now, I fear, her time of judgment has come. Soon my siblings and I will fade away, as is the fate we must face for our crimes.”

“What did you do?” Kellen asked, his curiosity temporarily making him forget he was speaking to a goddess.

“Has it been so long now that you humans have forgotten?” the Storm Horse asked. “Ah, but I see you are not of Oras, rather a spirit traveler from the Great Before. Still, there is not time for this tale now. I sense in you an echo of the Wild Mother and a trace of her chosen blessing. Do not let the followers of the Snake take my heart, Kellen Lars.”

Kellen wasn’t sure where to begin or how to piece all of that together. Even now, he thought the Storm Horse might have faded a bit since she’d first appeared. “Where is the heart of the totem? Can you help me find my Mana Beast and my friends? I need them to stop the Snake Cult.”

He felt his chest tighten as panic gripped him. The horse bent down and gave him a soft nudge with her nose, encouraging him to his feet.

“Take courage, spirit traveler,” the Storm Horse said. “Your friends need you. You must have strength. And you already carry a portion of my heart with you.”

She tipped her head toward Kellen’s waist. Surprised, he reached in and pulled out Chirp’s small red and golden egg. He offered it up to the Storm Horse, who snorted, blowing tiny electric sparks from her nostrils. They gathered around the egg, which rose from Kellen’s hand and spun, growing large and larger. At some point, Kellen saw long, magnificent tail feathers and a head plume emerge from the spinning shape. Soon, Chirp took form.

“What? Where am I? What’s happening?” The hawk’s head swiveled back and forth. She spotted Kellen. “Oh, thank the Great Horse, you’re alive!”

Kellen cleared his throat and tipped his head behind Chirp where the Storm Horse stood patiently. Chirp spun around and almost fell out of the air in surprise.

“Oh heavens, it’s you, honored mother!”

“Do not use that title for me,” the horse said, shaking her head so her flowing mane drifted into the air. “It is reserved for one greater and more worthy than I. But yes, here I am, if only for a little while longer.”

“The Frog Priest has found the heart of my totem,” she continued. “If he succeeds in stealing its power, he will have the means to resurrect the Snake once more. He is one of the Snake’s, a forbidden offspring and an abomination in the eyes of the Wild Mother. You must stop him at any cost.”

“Where is the heart?” Kellen asked. “And I’m still alone, I can’t—”

“You are enough,” the Storm Horse said. “You must be. With the last of my ebbing power, I can take you there.”

Kellen nodded, still in shock. It was about all he could do, his mind a jumble of all the Storm Horse had told him about snakes and curses.

“I have felt in you the memories of one older, another blessed by the Wild Mother who has lost much of his wisdom,” the Storm Horse said. “Take this from me, as thanks. Perhaps it will aid you both in the days to come as the Fourth Noctun draws nigh.”

He felt a tingling at the base of his head, then a pearl appeared hovering in the air in front of Kellen. The size of a golf-ball, it was a swirling pink color with lines of silver and gold, much like the original memory stone. It drifted toward him and he held out a hand, fingers wrapping around the round, smooth object. He knew at once what it was: Kiypu’s fragments of memory and knowledge pulled from the recesses of his mind and restored by the Storm Horse. He tucked it into the pouch at his belt, double-checking it was secure.

“You are not one of mine, though I can sense my storm mana within you,” the Horse said. “There is one last gift I would bestow upon you: a working known as Sacred Lightning. May it serve you in the battle ahead. Wield it carefully, for it is strong mana, and may overwhelm your Guardian beast heart if used without caution.”

The mental image of a brilliant white lightning bolt settled into Kellen’s mind. As the Storm Horse cautioned, he knew instinctively that he could only use the working once or perhaps twice along with his other workings during a fight. He sensed the working combined both storm and sun mana somehow. Before he could ask the Storm Horse about it, however, she spoke again.

“Go now, Kellen Lars,” the Storm Horse said, bowing to him and Chirp. Her back half had already receded into the clouds, the rest of her fast fading. “And good luck.”