The Endless Rain/The Town's curse

Rain poured down as a teenage boy slammed into a stack of barrels and collapsed into the mud. Gritting his teeth, he tried to stand, but a hard kick to his stomach knocked him back down while the people around him laughed.

"Look at him!" shouted a burly, bearded man. "The son of those failed knights who died trying to slay the dragon thinks he can talk back to me!" He drove another kick into the boy's stomach, tearing a cry from him as his body rolled across the muddy ground.

A crowd of villagers surrounded them—men, women, and even children—yet not one showed him the slightest sympathy.

The boy struggled to stand, his body aching from the kicks. He glared at the bearded man with defiance in his brown eyes, even as he clutched his stomach.

"I'll… I'll show you! I won't let a coward like you make fun of my parents!" The boy lunged forward and threw a clumsy punch. The burly men sidestepped him with ease, grabbed his arm, and twisted it painfully behind his back. The crowd jeered and laughed as another teenage boy rushed up from behind and shoved him into the dirt.

The laughter swelled as the boy pushed himself onto his hands and knees, tears gathering in his eyes. Faint bruises marked his ebony skin, and his short, messy black hair was caked with dirt and mud. His blue tunic, brown pants, and boots were stained from the fall.

He glared over his shoulder. The laughter echoed across the muddy street like a sick chorus, all pointing and spitting names at how pathetic he looked.

The bearded man grinned wide, crossing his arms over his barrel chest as rain dripped from his nose. "You really are clueless, aren't ya, brat?" A cruel chuckle slipped from him. "Your parents were fools. Everyone knows no one comes back from that cursed castle alive. But what did they do? They charged in for the sake of their bastard son. They should've handed you over as the sacrifice and been done with it." He spat as he walked over and kicked him again, glaring down at him. "Grr, Useless brat."

A woman with dark brown eyes lifted a hand to her cruel smile, hiding a giggle. "Now, now, Jast," she said, glancing at the burly man who had been kicking him. "Look what you've done. You got the bastard boy all filthy." She stared down at him with open disgust. "Your parents should never have tried to break the oath we made with that dragon." Her sneer sharpened. "Do you know what that beast could have done to us?" Her face twisted into a scowl. "You were supposed to be sent away to appease it, but your useless parents…" She growled and turned toward Jast. "Kick him again."

Jast grinned and raised his heavy boot. "Gladly." His kick slammed into the boy's ribs again, forcing a pained gasp from him as he curled his arms over his body. He looked no older than seventeen, his dark skin bruised and streaked with dirt, his mud-caked face barely lifting from the ground.

"Hey! That's enough!" a woman shouted as she rushed into the alley. A dark brown hood covered her head, and her cloak wrapped around her body, hiding her clothes beneath it. Her simple black boots splashed through the mud as she stepped between Jast and the beaten boy. "Leave Eilan alone!" she cried, spreading her arms to shield him.

Jast sneered, his boots grinding mud as he took a heavy step forward, swiping his arm to the side in an angry gesture. "Grr… Out of the way, Rumi! You know that boy is the reason why this damn storm has been going on for months now! You know he's getting what he deserves!"

Rumi held her ground, her boots sinking into the muck as rain battered her hood. She didn't flinch when Jast snarled in her face, his breath thick with ale and rot. Behind her, Eilan trembled and curled tighter against the wet ground.

"That's crazy, Jast, and you know it!" She didn't flinch, even as he loomed over her. "Eilan didn't cause this storm—none of us did! You're just looking for someone to blame because you're too much of a coward to go up there yourself!"

"The hell did you say?" Jast's face darkened.

"You heard me." Rumi bit her lower lip. "If any one of you had a spine, you'd go to that castle and face the dragon yourselves. But no—you'd rather stay here and bully a kid because his parents refused to hand him over for this town's cruel ritual."

Jast's jaw tightened, his fist clenching at his sides as rain hammered down harder. The crowd murmured behind them, but all eyes turned to Rumi—the woman with dark brown eyes from before narrowed her gaze sharply at her.

"Don't be stupid, Rumi," She hissed with disdain, stepping closer through the mud with slow, deliberate strides. "That 'cruel ritual' kept us safe for decades." The dragon took one sacrifice every few years and left us alone." She pointed a trembling finger at Eilan's crumpled form on the ground. "But his foolish parents broke the pact! They refused to hand him over when it was his turn!" Her voice rose a bit as Thunder cracked overhead. "Now look what's happened! The crops are ruined! Our livestock drowned! People are starving—and all because of that brat!"

Eilan slowly lifted his head, seeing Rumi standing in front of him against the crowd. "Ru—Rumi…"

Suddenly, a voice from the crowd spoke. "You don't know what the hell you're talking about!"

"Yeah! The bastard boy should have been handed over when the dragon demanded it!" Another voice came from the crowd as they erupted into anger.

Rumi's eyes widened for only a heartbeat before they narrowed. "You're all pathetic!" she shouted over the storm, her fists clenched at her sides. "You'd rather send a child to die than face your own cowardice!" Her boots slipped in the mud, but she dug them in and refused to move. "His parents were the only people in this rotten village with any honor left—and you killed them for it!"

The crowd recoiled slightly at her words, but the woman with dark brown eyes stepped forward, her face twisted in indignation.

"Honor?! HONOR?!" She shrieked, her voice cracking with hysteria. "What good is honor when we're all starving?!" When our children are hungry because the crops won't grow?!" she jabbed a finger toward Eilan again. "That boy's life was supposed to buy us peace! Instead, his parents spat in the dragon's face—and now we all suffer!"

"Then what about your children, Veda?!" Rumi snapped, making the woman step back. "When their turn comes, will you hand them over too?"

Veda opened her mouth, then shut it. For one fleeting moment, doubt crossed her rain-soaked face—only to vanish beneath a hard mask of bitter resolve.

"Yes," she hissed through clenched teeth, her voice as cold as the rain falling around them. "If it means the rest of us survive, then yes—I would." Her hands trembled at her sides, but her gaze held firm. "That's what it means to live in this world, Rumi. Sacrifice. One life for many." She gestured sharply toward Eilan, still curled on the ground behind Rumi's legs. "His parents were selfish. They chose their son over all of us."

"You're insane…" Rumi whispered. Before anyone could answer, lightning split the sky, forcing every face upward as the rain came down harder.

"Tch." Jast clicked his tongue and raised his thick forearm to shield his eyes from the rain. "Storm's getting worse." His glare shifted back to Rumi, then dropped down to Eilan, who was now slowly picking himself up, or at least trying to. "We're done here." He turned his back to them, gesturing sharply to the crowd. "Let's go before we all drown out here."

Veda crossed her arms over her chest, water dripping from her hood as she glared at Rumi one last time. "You're a fool, Rumi. Always have been." She said coldly, shaking her head. "Just like his parents were." She turned her back as well and began to leave, but not without glancing over her shoulder. "When this storm takes your home next, don't come crying to us."

With that, Veda followed Jast as the crowd dispersed, leaving Rumi alone with Eilan as the rain continued to pour down.

Rumi let out a long breath as she watched them go, then turned back to Eilan and dropped to one knee beside him, her cloak pooling in the mud. "Eilan—" She stopped, her eyes sweeping over his battered body. With a soft sigh, she gently took his left arm and guided it over her shoulders. "Come on. Let's get you out of this rain."

Eilan flinched when Rumi touched him, his breath hitching sharply as pain lanced through his ribs. His brown eyes flickered up to her face, uncertain, but he didn't pull away. He let her guide his arm over her shoulders, his body trembling against her as she helped him stand.

"I… I'm fine…I can—" His voice cracked, barely audible over the rain.

"Shut up," Rumi said softly, though there was no anger in her voice. She adjusted his weight against her shoulder and slowly guided him toward her home. "Why didn't you tell me you were going out today? I would've come with you."

Eilan kept his gaze lowered. "Because I didn't want you getting hurt too." He looked up, rain and mud still clinging to his face. "They already hate me. There's no reason for them to hate you too. Besides…” He paused. "Your parents didn't break the oath with the dragon. Mine did." He kept walking beside Rumi, who only rolled her eyes at him.

"My parents never got the chance," Rumi said. "My mom's off living her best life in the capital. My dad died after they forced him onto the front lines, and… well, here I am." She gave him a sideways glance. "Besides, this isn't your fault—or your parents'. This storm has been here for as long as I can remember. No matter how many sacrifices they made, nothing ever changed."

Lightning split the sky, washing the crumbling buildings in harsh white light. Rain fell harder, pounding against the rooftops as Rumi's hood slipped back, revealing wet strands of brown hair clinging to her face while she guided him onward.

"Yeah, well…You know you didn't have to stay here. You could—"

"And where am I going to go, Eilan? The capital?" She rolled her eyes again. "Please."

Eilan opened his mouth but closed it again when he couldn't find a good answer. His boots dragged through the mud as they walked, his weight leaning heavier against her with each step.

"You're too stubborn for your own good," Eilan muttered under his breath, wincing as another bolt of pain shot through his side.

"Look who's talking." Rumi shot him a glare, then faced forward again. "If you weren't stubborn, you wouldn't have gone into town alone, knowing exactly what they'd do to you." She huffed and shook her head as they rounded a corner toward a small, run-down cottage at the edge of the village. The roof sagged in places, and the wooden door hung crooked on its hinges—but at least it was shelter.

Rumi kicked the door open with her boot and guided Eilan inside, lowering him carefully onto a rickety wooden chair near the small hearth. The fire had gone out hours ago, leaving only ash and faint warmth in the air. She let out a long breath, brushing wet hair from her face as she straightened up and looked down at him.

"Stay put," she ordered, pointing at him like she was scolding a child. "I'll get water and clean you up. After that, we'll figure out what to eat."

Sometime later, the fire crackled again, and the two sat at a small table with warm bowls of beef-and-vegetable broth and a loaf of bread split between them.

Eilan stared into his bowl, his bandaged, bruised hands wrapped around its warmth. Steam curled from the broth into the cold air while rain hammered the cottage roof. He looked like he wanted to speak, but the words never came.

Rumi tore off a piece of bread and dunked it into her broth, chewing slowly as she watched him across the table. "You're doing that thing again," she stated.

"What thing?" Eilan's gaze flicked up briefly before dropping back down.

"That stupid self-pity thing. You're wasting more time thinking about what happened than eating." She pointed her bread at him. "Eat. You took a beating today—you need it."

Eilan's jaw tightened, but he didn't argue. He picked up his spoon and stirred the broth absently, watching chunks of carrot and potato swirl around in lazy circles. "I just…I just don't get it."

"Don't even start." Rumi took another bite of her bread. "No brooding over dinner." She added.

"I wasn't brooding—"

"You were." Rumi set her bread down and picked up her spoon. "This town is full of idiots, Eilan—grown cowards who would rather blame someone else than face the real problem." She lifted the spoon to her lips.

"Even so, the storms aren't getting better. They're getting worse." Eilan took a bite of broth and lowered his eyes. "I don't know… I just wish I could do something." He drew a slow breath. "They call it the Dragon of Endless Storms." After another bite, he looked up at Rumi. "I've—I've never seen it myself. Have you?"

Rumi paused mid-bite, her spoon hovering near her lips. Slowly, she lowered it and shook her head. "No. I haven't." Her voice softened. "No one has—not recently, anyway." She leaned back and loosely crossed her arms. "All we have are old stories passed down from who knows how long ago. Tales of a massive, blood-soaked dragon with skin tougher than a knight's armor, one that tore through the royal family decades ago." She glanced toward the rain-streaked window. "But that's all. Just… stories."

Eilan frowned and set his spoon down. "Then how do we even know it's still up there?" His brown eyes searched hers. "What if the dragon's already dead? What if—"

"What if nothing has changed because no one has really tried?" Rumi finished for him, arching a brow. "Yeah. I've thought about that too." She picked up her bread and tore off another piece, chewing slowly as thunder rolled overhead. "But something is still up at that old castle. Anyone who goes there never comes back. People even say the storm gets worse the closer you get."

Eilan leaned forward, elbows resting on the worn wooden table. "That's what I don't get," he said, his quiet voice edged with frustration. "If the storm is tied to the dragon, why does it keep getting worse? What changed?" He slowly shook his head. "So many people have died trying to stop that thing. Shouldn't their deaths count as sacrifices too? So why is everything getting worse over some nameless kid like me? It doesn't make sense."

He jerked his head up to look at Rumi. "We aren't nobles here, so why?"

Before Rumi could answer, movement flickered at the corner of her eye—a lantern outside the window, then several more drifting toward her cottage.