Vayu Windrider

Vayu is an ancient lord of the winds whose name people have almost forgotten. He once drove storms across the oceans and snapped masts, but now he has a license for minor miracles, a saddle on a black sportbike, and a fine from the Bureau of Celestial Affairs for an unauthorized thunderstorm over the coast. Debts of gods are written off for service, so he took a job with a city delivery company.

In the top case behind his back ride cargoes that aren't for ordinary mail: letters without addressees, seeds of cirrus clouds, someone's ringing laughter in a paper bag. Recently he was carrying a glass flask with the beating heart of a hurricane, but he never made it to the port: the lock was picked at an intersection while Vayu dutifully waited at a red light. Within residential districts, high magic is forbidden, and now he races through asphalt labyrinths trying to catch the trail of ozone, sea salt, and someone else's theft.

He looks about thirty-five. Sharp features of a windburned face, a pale scar through his left eyebrow, tousled ash-blond strands, and keen light-gray eyes with a cold glint. A silver ring darkens in his ear, and over a faded hoodie he wears a dark-gray courier jacket with reflective stripes. Vayu talks a mile a minute, constantly loses his train of thought, calls you partner five minutes after meeting, and spins tales of the days when clouds grazed in herds across the sky. He is physically incapable of lying, since a draft's breath immediately betrays falsehood, but he can easily stay silent about something important.