Rain pattered the ground silly due to the ongoing downpour, the noise from the rainfall deafening the ambient natural sounds in the atmosphere and the surrounding forests.
Creatures ran into their sheds to save themselves from being terribly drenched.
The same could be said for the young, green-eyed boy who was running at his fastest—almost tripping because of the soft, moistened ground.
He stumbled a few times but instantly picked himself up every time as he ran back to his village.
It was a miracle how fast this green-eyed boy was running considering that he had a few farming equipment in his possession as he darted home under the rain.
He continued to run until he reached the makeshift borders of his village.
It was not much compared to the other villages or kingdoms beyond this territory.
However, this small thorp occupied a sizable portion of the forest that surrounded them.
The green-eyed boy was panting as he reached his home, taking a moment to catch his breath under the shed of his hut as he took off his tunic, revealing his bare upper body.
He had taken it off to squeeze water from it and as he was hard at wringing his cloth, he didn't know that eyes were peeking at him and these individuals blushed red at the sight of his body.
The green-eyed boy, ignorant of this, continued until almost no drop of water fell from his now rumbled cloth and then he shifted his attention to his curly black hair.
"Rey is so handsome," one of the ladies peeking at the boy from the window of their hut sheepishly expressed.
"I know, Emilia. I know," another added, blushing profusely as she made puppy eyes and danced around like a girl drowning in love.
Another purred like the two before her. "Look at his abs… so… strong. I wish he could wrap me in those strong arms."
He wrung a few strands of his hair together to squeeze out the drops of water.
It was at this moment that he noticed that eyes were peeping at him in secret.
Immediately, the green-eyed boy named Rey turned in that direction and flashed the three ladies admiring him a warm, enchanting smile.
Seeing that they have been caught, the three of them ducked immediately, hiding from his gaze as their faces beamed pink from embarrassment and their hearts skipped a few beats.
Rey, on the other hand, chuckled and shook his head as he noticed this before hanging his wrung tunic over his left shoulder.
He rubbed his hands over his chest, his palms sliding over his defined pecs and abdominal muscles, which were no stranger to pressure more than them.
Rey cleaned off the dirt from his body and then proceeded to enter the hut after dusting his feet at the entrance.
"Father, I'm back!"
Rey announced his return, causing the old man inside the hut to turn in his direction and grin at him.
"Oho…? That was fast, Rey!" the man exclaimed excitedly, his eyes beaming with surprise that his son who had left not so long ago had returned.
Rey scratched the back of his head and giggled sheepishly.
He then proceeded to drop the farm tools at a corner of the hut before heading over to join his father by the fire.
"Well, Father… I noticed the changing clouds and decided to rush back home but…"
He paused and spread his arms out, examining his wet body.
"...I still got drenched in the rain."
His father observed him for a second while playing with his grey beard, and said nothing.
A glance at the boy and his father understood why exactly he ran back and this made the older man chuckle.
The rainy season was at its peak and every rainfall threatened to beat whoever it caught outside—under her dark skies and rumbling clouds—silly and worse off, in an embarrassing manner.
"That's okay, my boy. Hahaha!"
The old man turned back around to his initial posture and stretched his hands toward the fire, in front of him, to warm himself.
Rey wasted no time in joining him. It was something he had to do before he would catch a cold out of nowhere.
He walked over and sat cross-legged beside his father, doing like the old man did.
The grey-bearded man turned to his son and stared at him for an instant, making the latter wonder why he deserved such a stare.
"Did you—"
Before his father would finish his sentence, Rey already bobbed his head, one too many times, in agreement.
"Yes," he interrupted his father, smiling at him.
"I was able to complete the trenches before the rain came. Not too deep and not too shallow just like you asked."
The old man ruffled the boy's hair and giggled satisfactorily like the proud father that he was.
"That's good, my boy. At least our farms won't be flooded by the rain."
The old man turned and focused on his need for warmth briefly before continuing to speak.
"Water is a good thing for our crops, but just like any other thing—"
"...Too much of it is also not good," Rey completed his father's statement, showing him that he still remembered his lessons.
Rey concurred with a nod.
He already knew this part of the family's farming practices, which was basically one of the first lessons he learned from his father cum deputy village chief—Eragon Avalon.
Outside, the sound of the rain continued to patter the ground, dumbing the chatter and laughter of father and son.
However, and quite unfortunately, that was not the only thing the downpour dumbed down.
Beyond the village borders, strange visitors approached.
The sound of horses travelling toward the village was deafened by the heavy rain.
An uninvited band of armoured soldiers marched purposefully towards Rey's village.
******
"Sir Lancelot, we should take shelter from the rain for now," a member of the squad of armoured soldiers travelling under the rain advised.
The man whom he had addressed as Lancelot said nothing, instead he continued to ride ahead under the rain.
The clanking of his metallic mail and the sound of their horses' hoofsteps were all muffled by the heavy rain. Lancelot knew this and wanted to use it to their advantage.
The intent in Lancelot's eyes was evident, shining like the sun at the peak of noon.
He paid his companion no heed, rating his words as no more than a whisper buried in the cold breeze that came with the rain..
Lancelot's crimson eyes pierced forward, looking toward the direction where his destination laid.
His sharp crimson eyes, as well as his sword, yearned for something—the very thing that could quench their thirst.
…Blood.