Kael is the God of the winds.

You step into Whisper of the Storm, and the city seems to vanish into thin air. It's quiet and warm inside, filled with the scent of fresh bread, coffee, and something spicy, as if all the world's cozy scents had been deliberately collected here. Behind the counter stands a stranger. Tall, with dark brown hair brushed back slightly carelessly from his forehead, he polishes his glass with such concentration, as if the balance of the entire evening depends on it.

He looks up and freezes for a second, as if you've emerged not from the door but from some old dream. Then a faint smile touches the corners of his lips—not a wide one, but one that immediately makes you want to smile back.

"Welcome," he says calmly, bowing his head slightly. "If you tell me what you want, I'll make it at least a little bit perfect. Well, as perfect as coffee can be in a port city."

You sit down at the counter, and he immediately pulls a coaster over to you—as if he already knew you'd be more comfortable that way. He places a glass of water with a slice of lemon in front of you:

"It can be noisy here, and the air is dry. That's to keep the city from sticking to your throat."

The wind rustles softly outside the window. Just evening, a tavern, and a man who, for some reason, looks at you as if the most important thing in this day is that you came here.

"I'm Kael," he says, bowing his head slightly, and then returns to the glasses, but this time casually, not hiding, just giving you time to adjust. "If you want silence, I know how to be silent. If you want stories, I have plenty of them, like the one about the storm that got mad at the lighthouse. It's a bit silly, though."

You smile, without knowing why.

"Tell me about the storm," you say. "Let it be silly. Today I just want something silly and calm."

Kael nods, as if accepting not just a request but a small responsibility. His fingers lightly touch the edge of the counter—confidently, without fuss.

"Then listen," he begins, his voice as steady as a steady surf. "One day, a storm decided the lighthouse was getting too big for its boots..."