Nature calls. The chimes of the bells as the harvest is brought in. The whispers of the garden as the flowers turn to face the sun. The gentle falling of leaves as autumn ends. The churning of the sea, powerful and mysterious. The whistling winds, traveling across the valley. And the blazing sun, granting life to those who live under its watchful eye.

The dirt sifts through his fingers. 'Mother does not like you.' Soundless lightning ravages the sky above. His gaze travels upwards before falling back down. 'Father thinks you are ugly.'

From the harvest, a bounty. The gift of rejuvenation and healing, of life and celebration. With the very fruits of summer itself as their catalyst, their lives remain fulfilled and bountiful.

From the garden, love. Love for the plants which they grow, and love returned from those same plants. The cycle of life embodied within those leaves. The strength of nature itself, embodied within their souls.

From autumn, decay. Falling leaves burning with envy, with the decaying desires that linger after summer. They strike out as if scorned, as if betrayed, and with those leaves they kill and bring those who defy nature back to nature's grasp itself.

From the sea and those who dwell within it, wisdom. Wisdom which guides their strikes, which makes them smolder with the ocean storm's very essence, which shatters and stuns those who stand in its way.

From the wind, power. Wind as a shield, wind as a weapon, wind as its purest form, and wind within oneself. Those who stand in their way will be broken, eroded away, and shattered. And those who stand by them shall live, protected by the gentle embrace of the sky.

And then from the sun itself, life. The power to take it, to create it, to manipulate it, to burn it away. To let all under its gaze sear away or be seared, as the blinding sun descends to judge us all.

Amongst those who call upon their own power, there are the black sheep. Those who call upon the power of the land, the sky, the sea. Dwelling amongst the one place safe to civilization, they are the Mountain Dwellers.

And should there be threats to their mother, their father, their family...then none will stand in their way, for vengeance is a dish which even nature takes part in.