Avosa woke before sunrise with a start. The faceless filled her dreams again; smokey figures, always chasing her. Although she heard the morning doves coo, saw the orange glow of the waking sky, she sensed someone still hunting her from beyond. It sent a chill up her spine. She sat up uneasily in bed and surveyed the room.

Nothing seemed out of the ordinary. The house was quiet, her clothes and boots were at the end of her bed where she left them. Outside her window, signs of another storm slogging through the South the previous night scattered the landscape. Ewes drank from newly formed puddles, branches scattered happenstance in the fields. She knew she had to shake off the dread, get up, get dressed and start picking up the debris before a young lamb got hurt or worse, she ran into her mother.

After she dressed, she headed down to the kitchen and was surprised by her father. "Dad? You're up late," she said. Her father, named Caldwell after his own father, was usually tending to the horses or out making rounds on the dry stone hedge by now.

"I was just about to come wake you, sleepyhead." He feigned a smile, kissed her cheek in greeting. "I believe we have a visitor heading this way." He scrunched his eyes together ever so slightly and frowned just enough for Avosa to notice. Maybe it was someone he didn't want to see.

"A visitor?"

"Aye, heading up the way. I spotted him during rounds. He should be here shortly." He took his hand and cupped Avosa around the back of the neck,  and gave it a small squeeze.

"What is it, Dad?" She wondered what had gotten into him.

"Nothing, Ave, nothing. I just forgot you were growing into a young woman. It was seventeen this year, right?" He turned away, not expecting an answer as a single tear ran down his cheek.

Suddenly the day felt very strange. Again, Avosa felt exposed, wary, confused and curious. Light! She hadn't seen her father cry since her grandmother passed away when she was twelve. What in the name of the Phoenix was going on? "Do you know this man who comes?" 

"I do," he almost whispered.

She stared at him, waited for some sort of explanation, but it never came. Instead, his eyes glazed over, lost in thought. She had seen the look before, usually when recounting the time he spent in the Great War.

She was about to ask her dad how he knew the man when her mother burst through the door, panicked, short of breath. She must have been out in the barn and saw the stranger coming. She ran straight into her husband's arms, tears flowing, leaving the door to their house wide open. She'd have given Avosa a mouth full if she had done that.

"It's too early, she is not ready! I am not ready," her mother sobbed and hid her face. She obviously recognized the man as well.

"Now, now, Kaja, we don't know yet if that's why he has come. Let's wait it out before you go into hysterics," he said as he hugged her. Kaja nodded into his chest and seemed to calm down. But Caldwell's eyes gave him away. Avosa knew fear when she saw it. When her father saw her looking at him he pursed his lips together and closed his eyes, hugged his wife a snug harder before guiding him off her and rubbing her back as she wiped away her tears, trying to compose herself. She smiled weakly. 

Avosa's heart sank. She felt like an outsider. Having no idea what was going on, she was quite alarmed this man could stir up such emotion from both of them. Her hands began to shake and she wondered if the man arriving would even have a face. Was he from her dreams? Had they found her after all? 

"Ok, which one of you is going to fill me in?" She managed to blurt out. 

"I guess that would be me," announced a voice from behind her. Confused, Avosa turned around and came face to face with the stranger. He was an middle aged man with a handsome face,  wearing a brown cloak of the Clergy. He extended his hand to Avosa in welcome. She looked back at her parents who nodded that it was ok. 

Hesitantly, Avosa took his hand, so he continued. "My name is Marcus Thane, Chancellor of Endure" he said as he kissed her hand. "I am your uncle, Avosa. I am here to see you resurrected, my child."

Avos a had to admit,  she did feel a certain affinity towards this man but she was never told she had an uncle in Endure. They'd never even been to Endure. Light, her parents had never even taken her as far as Dunne before. Though there was something honest about Marcus and it made her less anxious. His face was sturdy, his eyes held wisdom and empathy. Though he was here for what?

"I'm sorry, you said resurrection? What in Hawk's name do you mean by that?"

"Avosa!" Screeched Kaja. "This is no time to lose your manners."

"It bloody well seems like a good time to me, Mom." Avosa crossed her arms and gave her mother a good stare. She didn't like secrets and she had definitely been the center of a huge one as far as she could tell. This was different than being cautious about her affinity towards the storms. 

"Ok enough," said her dad. "Sorry Marcus, we've not had time to explain."

"No, that's perfectly understandable, Caldwell. I did tell you to wait, from what I remember."

"We thought we'd have more time."

"Burn me, what are you all going on about? Really?" Avosa was far from nervous now that her anger had taken over. Her body felt tense and her heart raced but it was no longer about being afraid. 

Her parents sat her down, and with the help of Marcus, they began to explain to her why he had come. 

"I'm a what? Primordial?" Avosa felt like she was dreaming. She had to be dreaming. These people who sat before her now could not be her family. How could they keep something like this a secret her entire life? Something so huge! "This is all fairy tales and legends."

"It may seem that way now, my child, and we were never certain. We only had the mark to go on, and my dreams," this uncle Marcus explained.

"What mark? And please, my father sits before you, I am his only child."

"Forgive me, but you bear an Elemental mark on your arm. When you were an infant I was able to confirm it. Your mark is the Water Element. The Cormorant's blood runs through your veins. It's soul is your own." He took hold of Avosa's wrist and pulled up her sleeve. On the inside of her forearm there was a mark, just a birthmark as far as Avosa was concerned, though it was in the shape of a triangle.

She had never given the birthmark much thought, why would she? Though she noticed in the last few years it seemed to be getting darker, but she had guessed it was her age or the amount of time spent in the sun. Even now as she looked at it, it seemed different. Darker yes, but also clearer, more defined.

"When I blessed you on your name day, in Endure, I felt it. That was also when I noticed your mark. I had a dream that same night about the Shattering and then of the Primordial's return. When I woke I knew what the mark meant."

Avosa shook free from her uncle's grip. "This is bullocks," she said as she got up to leave. 

"Ave, wait!" Her father pleaded.

"Do you buy into this, Ma? From a dream and a mark on my arm?"

"I didn't want to, Ave. I didn't want to at all. But when the Bringers showed up in Endure looking for a child who bore the mark, I knew it had to be true."

"Wait, wait. Are you saying that I am the reason Endure was sacked?"

"It's not your fault Ave, but we had to protect you, get you away, keep you hidden. If the Bringers knew a child bore the mark it would only be a matter of time before they found you in the city. It was safer here, safer if you did not know!"

"Ah, bullocks." And with that, Avosa did leave. Her world was spinning and she needed an anchor. She bolted up to her room and slammed the door behind her. Thoughts raced. Fear returned. Was this stranger one of the faceless men from her dreams? For some reason, she didn't think so.

Though something else terrified her. She knew in her heart what they said was true. It would explain everything she had ever questioned. Why her parents kept her here, like a prisoner. It all made sense. 

When she grew strong enough, at about 10 years old, her father taught her how to tend for the herd and take on other chores. He trained her in shearing sheep and educated her on keeping their lands cultivated. She was also very fastidious when it came to helping her mother tend the horses and cart. Her wares sold for the most coin. She spun fleece into wool and made sweaters, gloves and hats for everyone in a days walking distance. Her father would occasionally take the horse cart up to Knoxdale, the closest town from the estate and sell his wife's extra items at the Feast Day market along with his ware. Though the real money in shearing was made by selling the fleece bushels to tailors and crafters who worked it into cloth to make clothes, blankets, saddle carpets and other garments.

When she began to take on more chores, Avosa thought for sure her dad would let her accompany him on some of his travels, even just up to Knoxdale where Yagor the Tailor bought their fleece would suffice. Still, father never allowed it. Avosa begged, pleaded, even coaxed her  father that the journey was too hard on him, but nothing ever seemed to work. 

Avosa felt resentment towards her father for being so firm all these years. She was told she had to stay home and keep an eye on the estate, that it was her responsibility to watch over her mother and all the animals. Nonetheless, she always felt like she was missing out on some grand adventure. 

Now, more than anything, she felt betrayed. She could have been prepared. She could have known something more was coming. Had she known? Had her mother hinted, ever? She couldn't focus. 

If she was the Cormorant reborn, should she not be powerful enough to make her own way in the world? The Cormorant was a noble bird, who sacrificed itself to give Valterra its freshwater source. What did it mean to be part of that? To be Primordial? To become, what was it? Resurrected? Is that the word Marcus had used?

She had never heard either terms. She had so many questions for the stranger but she was still holding back. Could she leave her family behind? Would she still be the same after being resurrected? Would she ever be able to come home and lead a normal life?

She laid on her bed and closed her eyes. She heard a cormorant's call in the distance. She felt the air around her thicken. Trying to calm her thoughts, she thought of the rain.

Before long, it came in a waking dream:

There is sand beneath my feet, I feel waves rolling over my toes. The ocean. I've never been to a beach but this place feels like home. The water is endless, like the Silver Sea. Single homes begin to pop up all around me, peaking out at the beach from within their forest cover. Young boys and girls appear and dig in the sand looking for shells and clams for crafting and eating. It's peaceful.

Suddenly the earth begins to shake. The children run to their homes yelling for their parents. The sky turns orange, the ocean begins to hiss; steaming, evaporating, like a low tide that never stopped. The air warms around me and the ground keeps wobbling and jolting.

Where the beach had been, now stands dunes, towering above me. I stare in amazement.

My arm is on fire! I look at it but there are no flames, I only feel the burn. But as I look again I see my birthmark, the kiss of the Cormorant has turned from brown to silver blue. It shines up in my eyes brighter than the lights from the fireworks father lit off on Feast Day. It's getting so hot. Will my arm fall off?

The sky is red now, no water in sight. The forest burns. The faceless men and women surround me. I have to do something, but what? Instinctively, I hold my bright arm up above my head and say something in a language I do not understand. My body flashes and emits a blue aura.

Above me clouds began to form, then lightning and thunder begin to rip apart the sky. Rain falls all around me yet I don't seem to be getting wet. I shout something unfamiliar again and lightening shoots out directly from my hand. I feel it rip through my body like I have just been shocked by intense magic, but I feel no pain.

The ocean is restored.

A voice from the stars speaks my name. 

What was it, it just said?

Avosa sat up, suddenly. Wet with perspiration, her limbs stayed motionless, yet her chest heaved in and out. Thunder rolled in the distance. Had she fallen asleep? 

Her arm. She looked down at her birthmark and it had indeed turned a silvery blue. The lightening. Was that what it meant to be a Primordial?

She realized there was only one way to find out.