44 ~ the eye of the storm

The constant battery of the tempest seems unending. No words can describe the hopelessness it evokes in the hearts of those who will live to tell the tale. Being subjected to the harshest of elements, the wrath of nature gone wrong. No one is safe. 

Aged trees topple down. Some still stand but are stripped bare to their tree trunks. The ferocious winds twist and uproot. The face of the mountains are ravished as a result rock and landslides. But it seems that the worst is not yet over, as the eye of the Uracan is still in open waters.

As soon as its eye made landfall, hell broke lose.  Debris fly and are scattered about. Out in the open, amidst the darkness there seems no escape. Many will perish, only a few of those that remained will live.

But the elementals have an ace up their sleeve, gifted with intangibility they will live on. As the eye passes over the isle, its denizens were given a short respite. A star peeked through the clouds. Moonlight filled the land. Those in hiding came into the open. Looking around, a trail of destruction.

The lull is short lived. The winds came back much stronger in full force. The ancient Viradjan stood no chance this time. Its large branches were mercilessly severed one after the other. Defeated, Alvae called out for the god of the southerlies to silence the warring Habagat and Dumagsa. Timog joined the fray, but it seems everything is too late. The wreckage is monumental. Lives were lost.

At the crack of dawn, everybody became a child... vulnerable and perturbed as the Uracan moved over in search of new prey...

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