Strings of Fate

Suspicious Villagers Aren't the Hospitable Kind

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STRINGS OF FATE

Part VI: Suspicious Villagers Aren't the Hospitable Kind

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Morning broke, and the forest unfurled its wings. The storm's rampage continued through the night and into the next day. A hurricane of sorts, it had to be. Its waning fury left its print as a cloudy drizzle that continued into the following day. Alex and Steven lasted on rations and games until the rain passed, praying to whatever god would listen to spare them from any further torment. Though, luck surely had Steven in its favor in chess, of all things.

At the dawn of the following day, the aether answered their prayers in the form of a cloudy drizzle. Over twenty-four hours of rain swallowing the land. Deep puddles and marshes of fallen twigs and leaves as water over-saturated the earth.

Birds and bugs hopped and flew amongst splintered branches of trees. Rabbits and deer trudged through the debris of soggy fallen leaves and mud, grazing on the grass that sat beneath. Zombies and skeletons peered into the blotted sunlight as they remained cowered in their covers. All walks of life returned to their normal day.

To the forest, this was no wounding. This was a rejuvenation. Though not all could say the same.

The slog back to the house weighed heavily on the two adventurer's shoulders. Their horses' hooves kicked up mud as they trekked along the trail. Branches overhead projected dappled shadows from large pockets of sun. Heavy morning mist swirled and flowed over the damp earth. Humidity clung to the fresh air, leaving a sticky sensation.

Once midday came, they knew the refreshing moisture would turn into a boiling sauna.

Trees thinned so slightly into the small meadow. Towering monoliths of bark rooted sternly into the ground. Nearly thirty meters in height, some of them looming over the rubble of the house that once stood in the center of this clearing. It had gutted the house by rains and winds, rubbles and debris scattered across the little clearing.

"Damn..." Alex breathed out as they witnessed the extent of the storm's wrath.

The second story had collapsed into the first. The massive head of limp leaves that encompassed the entire roof easily dwarfed the first branch that tore into the ceiling. Large naked branches pierced through the walls as others forced the construction to crumble beneath its weight. The chimney barely stood out from the mess of gnarled bark and shimmering leaves.

Its crumbled side of bricks looked either blasted by lightning or weathered by the constant bombardment of the tree's untimely felling. The only cause of such a massive log crashing down was bad luck, and a poorly aimed strike of lightning.

The two horses halted near the front porch, nickering and shaking their manes as they witnessed the surrounding destruction. The dog leaped off of Alex's lap and bound straight for the door. Paws slung up mud and squished into the flooded grass. His tail did not wag as he sniffed and pawed at the entrance. Steven dismounted and assisted Alex.

Unsaddling the horses, Steven left them to roam their familiar little paddock as he turned to the little shed, left untouched. Alex broke away to survey the extent of the damage to the barn and the house.

The shed sat there, taunting him. A few shingles were missing, but the entire thing survived the storm through a miracle he couldn't understand. The raised lip of the hatch kept any flooding water at bay and the door sat there waiting for him to enter.

He didn't even leave the ladder to check if their stuff was okay; he knew it was. Steven climbed back out, back already aching from sleeping on the stone floor of a cave two nights in a row.