He had bright brown eyes and vibrant hair, and a voice that was louder than Zephyrus, but softer than Boreas. All four winds had bad tempers, but from what I recall, Eurus was a little more unpredictable than his brothers. Much like the weather he helped provide, some days he could be welcoming and jovial and moments later he could be harsh and bitter. As a bridge between his stronger brothers, Notus and Boreas, he found amusement by causing mischief between them. I like to think it was because he loved a good storm. The more the merrier, and if he could get all his brothers to participate, well, even better.
I saw him most often during the transition of the seasons – when winter and autumn started to blend. My father was never very close with any of his brothers, but he had a soft spot for Eurus (despite the mischief). Autumn rarely fought winter. In fact, more often than not, he would gladly surrender to Boreas’s cold grasp. And when there was a Northeastern storm, it was usually due to the brothers riding the gales together rather than trying to rip one another apart.
I remember the excitement of being invited to join in on one of these Nor’easters. The rain beat down on my wings as I sailed throughout the bitter cold cyclone in icy serendipity. But what I remember most of all was the look on my uncle’s face. His smile was brighter than the flashes of lightning in the sky and his laughter was greater than the booms of thunder surrounding us. I remember him gripping my shoulder and telling me that he was proud of me. That was the last time I saw him. Since then, I am certain his pride has dissipated like fog on a sunny autumn afternoon.
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