Oath of Rings

Chapter 4

"It's raining! Sasha, it's raining!"

Sasha smiled as her brother came running over to her bed, shaking her awake. It had been raining for a while now and the sound had woken her up, but she had stayed in her bed, warm and cozy and appreciating the rhythm of the drops on the roof. Even rainwater called to her, and the scent of it seemed to open up her lungs, making her take deeper, longer breaths. Aside from rivers and lakes, rain showers were the closest she felt to her element in her landlocked homeland, but most of the year had been mired in droughts and she wasn't always able to visit the nearest bodies of water because her brother often couldn't make the journey. "Good morning, Joshua." She made a show of sitting up and stretching and yawning so he thought she had been asleep; he always liked to feel useful. "Did you say it's raining?"

"Yes! Come see!" Joshua moved back so she could get out of bed. Every hut they lived in was smaller than the last and soon they would be sharing one large room, all notions of privacy and space long gone. "Don't forget your blanket."

"I won't." Sasha wrapped the heavy blanket around her shoulders so her brother wouldn't worry and then followed him out to the main room. This hut still had sleeping areas that were separate, but barely, and the walls were so thin she was surprised the rain wasn't seeping through yet.

"Sasha?" Her mother's voice was just as sweet and welcome as the rain. "Are you coming to see the rain?" Standing by the window, her mother offered her a cup of water. "I thought you might be thirsty."

Sasha tried not to laugh, but her mother was always able to make her smile, even when things were dire. It had been at least two months since the last rainfall and even with her water-weaver gifts, their village was suffering. Sasha had done the best she could, grasping far into the earth to dig more wells and even diverting a nearby river as much as she dared, but her actions came at a cost. Her skin dried out, looking like dirt that was ready to crumble, and she was almost always thirsty. No matter what she drank or how much of it, her throat went dry and her mouth got sticky before the cup was drained. "About damn time," she said, glancing out the window at the long-awaited, life-giving rain. She took the cup from her mother, drank it down in one gulp, and then stepped outside, eager to feel the rain on her face even if it meant having to dry out the blanket later. Swimming in the rivers and lakes was one thing, but rain had a purity nothing could match.

"It's a sign, Sasha. You know it is." Sasha turned back to see her mother in the doorway, her expression halfway between sadness and pride.

"It's rain, Mother. Just rain." Sasha shut her eyes again and half turned, breathing the rain-freshened air in deeply. It was such a relief to have everything not coated in a fine layer of dust or dirt. "And we need it. Are all our barrels out?" Glancing up at the pale grey clouds, Sasha frowned. They didn't look very full at all, but some rain was better than none. "I don't think this storm will last long, so we need collect every drop we can. Joshua?" When her brother came running over, Sasha pulled up his hood. "This rain isn't going to last long. Go run to the other huts and tell them to get their barrels out, okay? We need to collect every drop we can." She felt a slight twinge of guilt for lounging in bed when she should have been alerting the neighbouring families, but the smooth, steady pressure of the rain in the air had been so soothing.

"Okay, Sasha." Joshua grabbed two pails, hooked them onto his carrying stick, and headed out for the few huts that were near theirs. The families in the area were struggling just as they were, and they all tried to help each other out.

After Joshua was gone, her mother gave her a stern look. "You know everyone's had their barrels out for weeks, Sasha."

"I know. But he doesn't need to hear talk of signs and omens," Sasha replied, handing the now-damp blanket to her mother so she could bask in the rain as much as possible; she would be far easier to dry off than the blanket would. "Because this is just a passing storm and we both know it."