(First, it starts with visions.

This is not anything out of the ordinary for Yasha. A monsoon coalesces in her mind's eye and in the night, her God comes to her, and he speaks. What the Stormlord says is exactly what he said to her– what feels like so long ago now, when she fell asleep by the campfire after being on watch. His voice sounds like rolling thunder. It is a comfort.

You walk the right path. Be strong. Don't forget who you were... and decide who you will become.

Lightning sears across the backs of her eyes, and she wakes up with a start, feeling displaced. His giant hand is still in the room with her, palm up, waiting expectantly. Yasha pushes her bed covers aside and tries to walk toward it, but it curls in upon itself, makes a fist, and vanishes.

She can't shake the feeling that it had been gesturing to her to come.

So she's at the beaches, bare feet in the stand, staring out at the horizon over the ocean. The weather is calm. If a storm were to start, she would see it on the horizon. If he were to extend his hand to her again, surely, she would see it here. She has a tense, restless air about her.)

(Now, the visions are getting worse. They don't just happen at night any more. The sound of rolling thunder is a comfort still but also has her on edge, poised, constantly listening for a soft rumble from the sky. Meanwhile the Stormlord follows her about and hangs on the edge of her sight, beckons to her with both hands, trying to get her to follow.

She would do anything for him. He knows this.

You walk the right path, he coaxes, and, Come along, Yasha. It's time to go. It's time to go.)

But... Molly is here, (she says. It's the first time she has spoken back to him aloud. He hasn't ever offered her much chance to before. She usually follows his direction in silence. But now he comes to her as if in supplication; the wind cards thick fingers through her hair, and Yasha feels tired and world-weary, longing for escape. His insistence is intoxicating, and she has always been devout.

It's time to go. You must come alone. I know the way; I will show you.

It's how she ends up at sea again, standing with her feet at the edge of the surf. There's only one way off of an island, right? The water is so dark and deep and though she knows how to swim she is not so sure, but the hands of the Stormlord move, as if to part the waves. Yasha hesitates... before she dutifully follows, striding forwards, into the sea.)