Rey hurried to the closed windows of their hut, shifting the spread of thatch that served to cover the windows as he peeped outside.
He puffed his cheeks in disappointment and frowned.
It was still raining and without any signs of it slowing down anytime soon.
Rey had things he wanted to do but unfortunately, he couldn't do them anymore because of the downpour.
"I guess I will move it to tomorrow," he muttered as his gaze lingered into the drenched surroundings of his village.
It's been close to two hours since he returned from the farm after having finished the job his father assigned him and now as he glanced at Eragon, the old man was already fast asleep.
He had dozed off faster than Rey could even realise, his long, pointy ears twitching with every snore Eragon made, which also threatened to deafen his son.
Rey took out small pinches of wool from a corner and rolled them, between his fingers, into small balls—one for each ear.
He plugged them into his ears to muffle the sound of his father's snoring.
Without anything else left to do, Rey went over to his own bed which he had positioned close to the fire and laid down to rest.
He was already wearing a change of dry clothes, and was more comfortable compared to when he just returned.
Now, he wanted to rest.
Well, not like there was anything better for him to do.
Rey tried falling asleep but couldn't.
Certainly, he was tired but not sleepy.
He could only lie with his back to the bed and his eyes facing the ceiling as he immersed himself into his imaginative world of no particular path.
From time to time, Rey would smile at the idea that flowed through his mind. They fascinated him and he couldn't wait to find out how true they were and even if such things existed.
He turned his head halfway, glancing at his sleeping father and frowning ever so slightly.
Eragon Avalon was the one man who could stop him from achieving his dreams.
Rey wanted to leave the settlement and see the outside world but his father forbade it for him.
Also, for some reason unbeknownst to Rey and his peers, they were stuck in the village and none of the older villagers ever wanted to tell them why.
The green-eyed lad and his agemates found it even more annoying that they are only allowed to venture beyond their borders when the village chief permitted—which was a rarity in itself—and in the company of at least two members of the older generation of villagers.
Rey scoffed and then exhaled.
"Bullshit!" he blurted out, cursing the most important law of the village.
"To protect us, they say. From what, we ask… and yet no answer whatsoever."
He exhaled again as if it had just dawned on him how frustrating his situation was.
"I just can't understand it," Rey lamented, albeit in low tones so he could avoid waking his father. That did not, however, deter the frustration Rey was feeling.
He was turning eighteen soon and yet he was still stuck inside this village, knowing nothing of whatever things or places that exist beyond their settlement.
His father already told him stories of the world outside the village for as long as he could remember but never found it funny with Rey whenever the lad mentioned his dream of exploring that world outside the village.
"I know a lot about the outside world and yet he won't allow me to see it. All that Father ever says is that it is dangerous out there. That they won't accept people like us."
Rey sat up and examined himself before a smug smile caressed his lips.
"What won't they accept about us? Why won't they accept me? I'm tall, handsome and with a good physique that I put effort into building. Just what is that thing outside that we should be afraid of?"
Curiosity killed the cat, they say… but satisfaction brought it back.
Eragon Avalon didn't seem to care about the second half of that statement as far as his son and his endless chatter of the outside world were concerned.
But then again, Rey was a male hybrid and more importantly, a soon-to-be adult.
Naturally, he will eventually yearn for a life that is grander than what he has now.
This was a primal instinct in play and there was nothing Eragon could do about it. It was fated to occur sooner or later.
To Rey, it felt like every new day came with more curiosity, and zeal to step out and far away from the village, more than the previous day.
Bang!
The sudden explosive sound jolted him from his deep thoughts, breaking the barrier created by his wool ear plugs and sending shock down his entire spine.
The green-eyed boy almost fell from his bed but managed to steady himself as he rose up immediately and rushed to the nearest window.
He peeped and outside was still empty but the rain was still there.
However, it was obvious that downpour markedly reduced—enough that walking out was possible.
Bang!
The sound bawled throughout the village a second time, and with that, the internal village alarm system was activated.
Boink! Boink! Boink!
The sound of the village warning drum being struck thrice was enough to send every member running outside, Rey and Eragon included.
"What is the matter?"
"What's going on?"
"We haven't had three drum sounds in years?"
The villagers were panicking.
As for Rey, he knew that the three drum sounds he heard represented a warning sign for incoming danger, but he only knew this in theory.
He had actually never witnessed or experienced a three-drum–sound scenario before and all he could do was look around cluelessly.
Notwithstanding, his chest heaved as he panicked like the rest, even if he seemed to handle it better than most.
Rey also felt fear.
…Fear of the unknown.
Rey Avalon did not do very well against enemies that he was yet to see.
He clenched his fists.
He preferred it when his enemy was in sight and ready to throw hands, even best if it was up close.
That is how he liked it and that was exactly how he battled the forest creatures that threatened their farms along with the other youths of the village.
As the villagers panicked and filled the atmosphere with fearful tension, an elderly man walked into their midst.
He was tall and with a similar grey beard as Eragon.
The only difference was that this particular elderly man was bald and Eragon was not.
This man was old yet moved with an agility that defiled his age.
He was the village chief and his presence among his people brought some level of peace and quiet as they waited for him to guide them, once again, through what seemed to be a turbulent time.
Meanwhile, at the southern border of the village, the source of the turbulence was made manifest.