Under a purple sky, alive with ribbons of wavering clouds and flashing with indigo lightning, Ellenid strung her lyre. Speeding from the high black tower, the winds howled around her as she strummed the first notes, a song of childhood long past, a stirring hope that rose like a flower from ashes.
And rage as they might, even the mightiest storm could not silence her song.
This is for Three Line Tales. Thanks to Sonya for running the challenge and Emily Morter for providing the prompt photo!