the winds, gentle and leading and warming but full of a strength, brought himself upon the ocean. between he and she there was a beautiful thing, though kept apart, his touch always skimming but reaching no further. such was the forbidden nature of their love: their realms were never meant to cross.
and still they found a way, with the tenacity of a passion more like that of mortals than gods. his winds brought the instability of birth's disruption, her ocean the lifewater that fed it, and between them cycled a fearsome storm, so destructive but so beautiful in its symmetry. their own galaxy, orbiting a center of immeasurable depth, absolute calm.
he was born there, of the eye of that creation. and the earth called him the storm, the gale, the squall- and the sky called him the twisted, the land-razer, the bastard god. but in birth he was called kasuf, and his mother the sea, his father the prevailing winds, called him
beloved.
and here i can stick his history.
columns at the bottom, one for his mother and one for his father