The winds buffeted her frail body, whipping her ankle-length skirt and her kinky gray hair wildly. She knew a storm was hovering off the coast, and had been paid a handsome fee to use her magic to seize it. Lifting her gnarled hands to the sky, she called out an incantation that pierced the clouds, her voice rising above the storm— I call upon thee, Mighty Hecca, god of the wind, to send your power! I call upon thee, Mighty Thorr, whose beard is as bright as the evening sunset, to crack the storm clouds with your lightning power! Thunder roll, thunder shake, the sky is yours to rent and quake! In response to her powerful commands, the high winds gave forth a piercing cry, bringing with it the flash of lightning and the roar of thunder from out of the dark sky. She continued to watch the turbulent sky with her piercing eyes, repeating the commands until she knew she had captured the attention of the gods of the storm.
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