Like every other peace and every other story, there must always be something coming ahead.
And that night… it came.
The air changed first.
It was heavy, wet, and cold like the whole world was holding its breath.
The sky above the village of Fernstead turned gray, and the wind began to hum in strange ways.
By sunset, dark clouds rolled across the hills, swallowing the light.
Then came the rain.
It didn't fall like normal rain.
It didn't patter or whisper.
It roared strong, endless, and wild.
It hit the rooftops, the trees, the rivers, the rice fields.
The water rose higher and higher, and yet, it didn't stop.
One day passed. Then two. Then five.
Still, the rain never ended.
Word began to spread through every corner of bilin, the great land we lived in.
From the four neighboring kingdoms to the seven sister villages and the five trade towns, everyone spoke the same words:
"Something is coming."
Some said it was a storm born from the sea.
Others said it was a curse from the mountains.
And some said the gods had turned their eyes away from us.
Whatever it was, fear swept across the land faster than the wind itself.
The Exodus
By the second week, the rice farms were gone.
Everything drowned.
The strong smell of wet earth filled the air.
Our people began to leave.
Families carried what little they could rice bags, blankets, a few cooking pots and walked toward the main city to find shelter.
Boats filled the rivers, loaded with people and animals, pushing against the endless rain.
They said the royal city had opened its gates.
They said it was safer there, away from the water and whatever was coming behind it.
But not everyone left.
Not my father.
Not Mr. Gareth.
Not their wives.
"This is our home," Father said. "The storm can't take what the earth gave us."
Mr. Gareth agreed.
Both families stayed, even as the rest of the village disappeared one by one.
Twilight left first with her parents.
Then Edwin's family.
Then Jack's.
One by one, the houses emptied.
The laughter of children faded, replaced by the sound of rain.
Soon, only our two families were left the Paul's and the Gareths.
The Endless Rain
The water reached our knees now, but Father and Mr. Gareth still tried to save what was left of the rice.
Their voices echoed through the storm:
"If the roots live, the land will live!"
But it was hopeless.
The rice turned brown, soft, and dead.
The fields that once fed our whole village were gone swallowed by water and silence.
At night, we gathered around a single lantern inside our house.
The babies, Darian and Alex, cried softly, while Mother and Clara held them close.
Goru sat near the window, watching the rain.
Anna leaned against my shoulder.
We didn't speak.
There was nothing to say.
The storm had no beginning and no end only a rhythm that never stopped.
It was as if the sky itself had broken open, and bilin was drowning under its own sorrow.
The Omen
By the third week, we saw strange lights at the edge of the sea.
Blue and red, flickering deep beneath the waves.
The animals in the forest began to flee birds flying in circles, deer running past the farms, even the dogs howling without rest.
Something was coming.
Not just rain.
Not just wind.
Something else.
The kingdoms were right to run.
But Father didn't run.
He stood beneath the rain and looked toward the sea.
And for the first time in my life, I saw fear in his eyes.