The first day I called the storm was an end. The end of a journey, the summit of a mountain; but when you leave the mountain, you don't take it with you. How would I maintain the profound insight from the eye of the storm that unlocked my direct line to the hurricane?

Tempestuous peace. The calm and the storm. Where do I begin?

Questions rained upon me as I tried to put my thoughts into practice. The acrid stench of radiolaria reminded me that training was over. Was I ready for this? Did I have a choice?

Beaten, bloodied, I stared into the empty faces of my enemies. They were fearsome; they had taken much from me. But I've seen that which lies still amid cacophony.

Courage. The courage to face the torrent, to proclaim peace in the face of violence. Courage is the only call that the storm will hear.

It cannot ignore me.

Thunder rumbles and lightning strikes. Wind blows and rain pours. My enemies are no more. But peace… peace never left me.