The gate opened and Culmo was pushed in by the wind. In the protected hall lights were sitting in a circle, lights much bigger and purer than him, watching him with surly faces. The wind was ominously blowing a Gregorian chant. Suddenly, everything lit up and the gate closed behind Culmo in a thunder.

Plop.

Cirra was flying through the wet nothings who were fighting with each other as many tiny, vibrating dots both under and above, then, when completely filled up with water because of anger, fatigue, they fell as raindrops. She could barely see in the thickening fog, water and ice pieces were scratching her bodiless existence but she flew persistent, grabbing a few lightnings along the way.

Filled with substance she landed on a light-grey, not-too-wet cloud puff to rest but at that moment creatures squelching in water emerged from their hiding place, stormed Cirra with ice pole-axes who, in fear, grabbed one of her lightnings and threw it at them with surprisingly prim technique.

This made them fall asleep for just enough time to escape. She took an ice pole-axe and sprang away to the nearest drier platform.

Plop.

Another flash, another thunder. The Gregorian melody turned into a whistle by the glassy sound of the lights and Culmo vibrated lower and lower. Struggling powerless in the invisible hall, he eventually leaked water.

Plop.

The wind surrounded Cirra, blowing dark clouds towards her. Deprived of her sight she could guess the position of her enemies by how the sound of the wind refracted on them. For a moment the sky froze, only the whistle was blowing still, then everything turned into chaos. Cirra avoided all strikes with perfect gracefulness, not even the wind could break her balance. She struck her ice pole-axe under her killing a creature squelching in water that was swimming towards her from below, then she hastily flew away.

The black clouds were everywhere, she couldn’t see where she was headed. The wind went quiet for a brief time which was enough for Cirra to not hear the ice spear thrown at her. Why wasn’t I born as light, she thought.

Plop.

Culmo was sinking slowly but unstoppable. The Sun is punishing your betrayal, you’re light but live amongst clouds, you love the clouds, said the pure lights with their glassy voices one could hear from all directions. Why wasn’t I born as cloud, cried Culmo. Then the sky flashed again and the loudest thunder torn away the walls.

Plop.

The lightning saved Cirra from certain death, but only for a moment. The sky wrapped itself in darkness again. I punish your betrayal, you’re cloud but live with light in your heart, whispered the wind, then it went utterly quiet, only the falling raindrops and the far away thunders could be heard.

Suddenly, everything brightened as if it was daylight. Culmo’s last cry. Cirra turned towards the light source and the gaze of the two betrayers met. With her last strength she flew — she wanted to help — and touched Culmo who burned out as fast as he lightened. His existence as light faded, he turned into a watery substance and, wetting Cirra too, they turned into a dark rain, falling through the cloud.

Plop.