Boreas's Voice

He hated his voice.

Deep as the ocean, slow as a sloth. Enunciating every word. It always bugged him, because it had only helped reinforce how terrifying he was to others. His 30 feet of bulk cast a shadow that would send most humans running away; he didn't need a scary voice in addition to that. Why couldn't he have a teeny, cute voice like Vernalia, or a hearty voice, with a smile that was bright as the sun like Summata, or a cool, soft voice like Auternia? At least they were well respected and... well, less huge than he was.

In fact, everybody welcomed the arrival of Vernalia. Flowers would bloom with every step, and her laugh was like chimes ringing in the wind. Before dawn, she would make the dew drops on all the plants, and when the clouds were high above, she would welcome the rain to nourish all life around her. Her skin was of earth, her hair blue as clear skies. Farmers loved her, as her arrival signaled the best time to til the farms and plant the crops. Children loved her, too, because of the joy and laugher she brought. Her love for all burned bright enough to melt the snow that winter had left, and allow the earth to awaken from a season-long slumber.

Summata was loved, too, for the heat and many joys he brought. His hair was fire, his body kissed by the sun itself. He allowed the crops to grow and thrive, showering them with sunlight, although careful not to sear them as he went on. Festivals after festivals, he made, to celebrate the time for good food and drink. He sometimes got carried away or furious, though, bringing about droughts and unbearable heat that only the rains Vernalia and Aurernia pushed in could quell. His laugh could shake the earth with how loud it was, and once he took a liking to someone, he always went through the trouble of treating them. The warmer weather was always enjoyed by many.

And what about Auternia? She brought in the chilly wind, signalling that crops should be harvested soon. It also served as a reprieve from the endless hot, dry days. A snap of her fingers warned the trees to start shedding their leaves, as soon the cold would be enough to freeze their water supply, and leaves would only be a burden. She was hardly noticed, but farmers did thank her for warning them of the coming winter. Her hair was as gray as the rain clouds she brought to nourish the earth, and she wore oranges and reds, much like the autumn leaves that she signaled. She partook in the harvest festivals and made sweaters for the children and elderly to shield them from the cold, told stories of the gods and her fellow sages to young and old. And when fall was done...

...He would arrive. Bringing in the harsh winds and beckoning the earth to slumber. Snow would cover all where he stepped. All were terrified of his presence due to his size, and they associated the harsh, winter storms with him, storms that shut them in for days. Snow so white, the light of the sun reflecting off of it could blind people traveling through. And, of course, the bitter cold that seemed to call forth illness. It was a time where no plants grew, and so it was all the more important to be wary of their food supply.

All bad things happened during Winter, the people thought, and they despised him for bringing it. But it was his responsibility to allow the world to rest, for what would happen if the earth was endlessly tilled and used to grow plants, over and over and over endlessly, without the long break that winter brings inbetween? The land would simply give out, much like the bodies of the old, and would cease giving the plentiful bounty the people needed. He did the job that no one else wanted to do, for the well-being of all.

He envied the others, though. People smiled upon them in general, even though some of their feuds resulted in tornados and hurricanes. They were the benevolent ones, the ones kings always sought for help. More friendly, in their opinion, and more human-sized, to boot. Meanwhile, only children truly liked him, enjoying the days where they could make snowpeople and skate on frozen lakes, and enjoying when they could see him. After all, he could breathe life into the snow, and always held knick-knacks for any occasion! All others feared him... his appearance, his voice, and everything he ultimately stood for: an end, whether permanent or temporary.

And so, as time went on, he used his voice less and less, as to not scare anyone when he happened to pass by. The deep, slow voice soon became as harsh as winter winds, which only terrified others more. And when it reached a point that even children nearly jumped out of their skin hearing him, he opted out of talking altogether, speaking instead with body gestures and facial expressions. His size, he learned to adjust so he wouldn't startle anyone. The depression and sadness that the cloudy days of winter brought, he learned to help others, so that their hearts would no longer cling to their sorrows.

All this change allowed him into King's Courts again, and at least made him a little more welcome presence in towns. But he yearned for the day that he would find someone for whom he wouldn't have to change for. Someone to open his heart to.

After all... he was tired of letting out his sorrows in the form of winter storms, instead of using his ever-rusted voice to speak out his problems.