Stormy was never interested in friends.
She preferred to spend her nights at home, in her room, doing literally anything that allowed her to avoid others. A lot of times she focused on carving. It was the one thing she could do with a knife that turned out even remotely okay.
She had been training since she was ten and was fascinated with the art of weaponry long before that. Of course, her dad would have let her start training long before the age of ten but her mom was wholly against it, wanting Stormy to enjoy her childhood. What she didn't realize was that all Stormy wanted to do was to fight like her dad.
He was a famous Calamity Family member. A deadly assassin. He'd tell her stories long into the night of his adventures. His favorite was his adventure with her mom. Stormy always thought the story was a little cheesy.
Although she had a year of training ahead of her younger brother, Finch excelled past her in every way. Magic and weaponry flowed through him. It seemed she always pulled the short end of the stick. Finch got all the fairy and all the strength. She got none of that. No wings. No fighting skills.
Her dad always told her it would come with time but she saw how Finch flew past her, and her older adopted brother Dion always said it was in the blood. Her younger sister wasn't interested in fighting but her magic overflowed. Dew was gifted.
All Stormy had was her carvings. She didn't want friends. All she wanted to do was fight.
Sometimes she wondered what it would take for her to get there. Sometimes she wondered when her days would finally change.
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Lonely One
FantasyStormy had always felt a little different. She didn't catch on as fast as her siblings. She could barely weild a sword. She didn't have wings. She had no friends (although that didn't bother her). But above all else, she wanted to be seen as an equa...
