The Electric Eagle

Chapter 4 - The Water Whisperer

Before the rainfall started, Liam and Finn were East Dulwich's golden boys, their lives unfolding like characters in a novel. Both were charming and striking, with thick brown hair and bright blue eyes. Liam, the elder of the two, was a beacon of charisma. His humour was legendary, his laughter a familiar sound through the halls of Dulwich collage and the streets of south Peckham. Three years his junior, Finn was Liam's devoted shadow, following him with an admiration and unwavering loyalty that only a younger sibling would show. As they grew up, Finn too became a force in his own right, cheeky and wild, stirring mischief whilst staying firmly by his older brother's side. The two would strut around London as if a mist of superiority surrounded them. Storming through the streets, they were untouchable. Every Saturday, the two would make their way to the Crown and Greyhound, a quaint pub that stood like a time capsule in the heart of Dulwich Village. The pub's wooden tables and old-fashioned decor were a backdrop to their rituals, the locals like an audience to their theatrics, and the clinking of pint glasses and the hum of conversation were the soundtrack to their afternoons. Each time they arrived, the brothers would secure a corner table, a prime spot where they could watch the world go by. Liam would order pints for them both, spilling splashes of craft beer as he wandered back to their table. There, they would play cards with strangers and friends, their conversations filled with jabs and shared stories. Each game was a celebration, each win or lose a part of their weekend ritual. One Saturday, a traveller had entered the pub dressed head to toe in a light blue cloak. He looked like a monk who had been dipped in paint, his identity obscured from view by a long floppy hood that hung over his face. As he stood ordering a drink at the bar, his back to the boys, they could make out a ring of ivy etched into the cloak. On that day, the boys would mock the stranger, but years later, Finn would remember this day as the start of the end. It was the first sign of the Overcast's influence to intrude upon their sheltered, privileged lives. For so long, the world outside the pub might have been changing, but within its walls, the brothers remained a constant source of joy and comfort. Now, change had started to creep into their haven, seeping into their cherished moments.

When the rain began, everything started to snowball. It started as a quiet murmur, a soft patter against the windows, but soon it grew into a relentless pour that seemed to seep into every corner of their lives. Finn would stand outside his brother's door, head pressed against it as he knocked lightly, looking for a sign of life. Sometimes, he'd be stood there for hours on end, waiting for a sound to peek through. Eventually, his quiet taps turned into persistent knocking, which grew more frantic with each passing day. "Liam! Come and play cards!" he would call out. When he managed to prize the door open, the unsettling sight from inside the room would shock him to his core. Liam stood motionless by the window, his gaze fixed on the rainfall outside. It was as if he were hypnotized, his eyes reflecting the grey storm beyond the glass. His appearance was unnerving, as though the rain itself had infiltrated his very being. His once vibrant laughter, a familiar and cherished sound, began to fade, like the light of a candle slowly dwindling until only the flickering remains of wax were left. The transformation was stark. The joy that had once defined him seemed to drain away, replaced by a profound emptiness that cast a shadow over his features. In the weeks that followed, the changes grew more alarming. The sound of Liam's voice, once filled with warmth, was now overtaken by prayers. The howling cries to God, echoing from his bedroom, were a haunting contrast to the serenity that had once filled their home. Dinner conversations, once lively and playful, became unsettling. Liam would speak to his family with an intensity that bordered on madness. "The rain," he would say, his voice heavy with conviction, "it's come to wash away our sins. The Overcasts are our salvation. They can guide us through this." His words, though spoken with a religious zeal, were met with growing concern. The transformation in Liam was profound, altering the very essence of the brother Finn had once known. And then, he left, summoned to the Spillships. He did not say goodbye, leaving Finn broken and empty. From that moment, nothing else mattered. Even the disappearance of his parents failed to make a dent on the anger and deep sadness he felt when Liam left. Now, he mirrored his older brother, staring out of the window and into the rain. The relentless downpour outside seemed to mirror the changes within him, each drop a reminder of the growing space between the life he once cherished and the bleak reality that now surrounded them.