The day evil rises
So will of heroes four:
One to let the water flow
One to make the earth tremble
One to make the wind whistle
One to make the fire rise
-
Only together, light will shine again.
Humming this old melody, a young man hurries over the fields. All ten seedlings or so, he crouches down to gently examine the crop. He frowns when he spots little crawly creatures eating holes into the tiny leaves. "Termites again?" As he sights, a glaring light darts through the sky. Jolting up, he only manages to get a glimpse at what probably was one of the biggest arches of lightning he would have seen up until this point in life, had he only looked up a few seconds sooner.
Waiting for the loud clap of thunder that he knows will make him wince, even though he expects it, he looks at the black clouds creeping towards him. This wouldn't be an ordinary thunderstorm; he was sure of it. On the opposite: Something inside of him suggested that this is going to be the most special storm he would ever experience, and the most fear-filled night he'd have in a long time.
He took his gaze off the sky and back to the ground. He had to finish his walk through the field before the storm hits. If he wasn't finished by then, he might not be able to determine how widespread the infestation is right now and will be tomorrow. If he doesn't know that he'd have to come back tomorrow… which would take away from the time he'd have to walk to town to get the repellent, which means he might not be able to go to town at all…
No. he had to go tomorrow, or he would risk the entire harvest. Even if that meant he'd have to roughly guess the amount he needed, and risk not having enough… or even worse, buy too much and waste precious money… On top of that, nothing guaranteed him that the crops would still be standing by tomorrow, especially with this violent storm on the way… All these worrying thoughts spinned around in his head, making him lose sight of the crops he still wanted to inspect. In the end, he finished his work before the first drops reached his field.
Packing his tools, he thinks about his obligatory visit to town tomorrow. He'd have to take the big backpack with him, that was for sure. Luckily, he knows exactly what he needs, so it would only be a quick trip. He hates going to town. There is nothing worse for him. Ever since he didn't have to visit school anymore, he stopped going, even though his grandmother hated that decision with passion. In the end it was a good decision, as when her back started hurting too much to actively work on the field, he was able to completely take over. He was just about to leave when n he felt a big drop of water on his hand. Then another one, and another one… suddenly a big wall of rain came down.
Even though he ran up the mountain as fast as possible when he arrives at his home, his clothes and hair are soaking wet. At the door, his grandmother is already waiting with a towel and a bowl. "Hurry up boy! The cold is getting in!" "I know, I know…" He enters and closes the door behind him. Afterwards he undresses down to his underwear and starts wringing out his clothing. "Put them next to the oven dear!" "I know Grandmother." He quickly dries himself off and throws the water wringed from his clothing out of the door. When he enters the central room, he can hear his grandmother hum in the kitchen. Laying out his clothing, he sees that she prepared a new batch of clothing already. It even was warm; she must have suspected he wouldn't make it home dry, so she laid them onto the oven. She was never wrong when she had a hunch something might happen. "Hurry up! The food is ready soon!" Fully dressed, he starts setting the table.
A practically silent hour of eating, doing dishes and a little cleaning later, they sit across each other in the central room again. He glances outside; it had become dark, but sporadically a lightning brightened everything up for a split second. Ultimately, he makes the decision to leave for bed. He stands up and: "Where are you going?" "I'm going to bed." "Why so early?!" "Grandmother, it's already dark outside. Besides, I need to go to town tomorrow to get insect repellent, and I really want that done early." "Forget those cursed fields already, those crops won't grow anyway." With these words the old lady silences him, and he backs away. "That doesn't mean we aren't going to Naya tomorrow though. I'm thinking of spending at least a month down there, if not staying there full-time." He jolts up: "Grandmother, you can't do that! You know how I…" "Don't tell me what I can or can't do, Ignias. Permanently moving to town is the best decision for us." With a gruffness he usually doesn't show, he turns around and goes to his bed, leaving behind his grandmother with a worried expression.
He was not able to sleep. The storm keeps him awake, making him wake up from his half slumber every time even just a light thunderstrike was heard. Usually in nights like these, his grandmother would stay awake with him, telling him stories about older, simpler but also more mystical times until the storm ended. It didn't matter to him that at his age, needing to be told stories is considered immature. In nights like these it was the only thing that calmed him down. But this night, all he had were his thoughts. He stares at his hands in the dark, unable to not think of how horrible it'll be to live in the little town permanently. He endures hour after hour, but the storm doesn't seem to pass. On the contrary, with every minute it seemed to get louder and louder, filling his head with noise and disorienting him every time a lightning strikes. Suddenly, he feels terribly hot while shaking uncontrollably of cold. After a few minutes, he runs out of the room to the spring to get himself water. It is hard to navigate in the dark, but he manages to find the door to the shed. But just before he arrives at the spring, the feeling is suddenly gone. As he looks through the window, he can see the sun rising. The storm that kept him awake was suddenly gone. He blinks a couple of times, trying to decern if he was dreaming or not. From inside, he hears his grandmother calling him. "Ignias! Where are you boy! We need to pack!" "I'm… I'm coming!" He runs back into the house. Approximately 100 metres away, a figure standing behind a bush smirks. "Found you."