The rain had been heavy all week.
It had been getting worse with each passing day. I checked the pans and buckets that had been scattered throughout the house. They were propped up against leaking walls and they sat underneath dripping ceilings. They were all close to overflowing, but I couldn't seem to swap them out quickly enough. It was relentless, and my frantic hands didn’t have the same speed they used to. As I turned away from one receptacle with a resigned sigh, I knocked over another with a careless foot. Too tired to do anything about the spillage, I slumped into a heap on the floor and held my fragile head in my weary hands. I simply wanted this downpour to stop. It was too much. It had been too much for months. I had had enough.
I couldn’t remember what life was like before the skies had split, what dryness felt like, what clear air in my lungs felt like. I felt myself on the verge of something monumental. Letting out a prayer to the New Gods, I gave myself wholly to them, despair and desire mixing in an unholy combination. A gust of air tickled my forearm and slid its way over my exhausted bones. I opened my eyes and saw a bird sweetly float past the rain-drenched window. It seemed that the winds were turning.
***
With the drought in full swing, he found himself longing for the rain, for the heavy monsoon that had once caused so much despair but was so much less brutal on the human body. For months now, the sky had remained clear, nothing but an endless path to the sun. It wasn't even that hot, but the Earth beneath him felt barren, desolate of any comfort. It itched. He could physically feel it. Vegetation had stopped growing, and the wildlife had started to change. With such a sudden end to natural hydration, the trees grew differently - they were mangled, and cruel. Animals that once ate what grew from the ground were forced to turn on one another. He sensed the world caving in on itself.
He got onto his knees and clawed at the Earth, pulling up huge chunks of dirt and dust and soil. It got under his fingernails, caking his arms and clogging his pores.
‘Is this helping?’
He screamed to the skies and he cursed the New Gods he had given his life to. Thinking back to that day, he thought of the delicate thread of regret that had tugged at his conscience from the second the prayer left his lips. That thread had steadily grown to a gargantuan tangled mess of yarn that consumed his every thought. He knew what he had to do to set the world right once more. He made promises he couldn’t keep to a set of Gods that were no longer his own.
‘Is this what you need?’
He opened his dusty eyes, and looked up as the first grey cloud came into view and slowly blocked out the sun. A new thread formed and delicately tugged at his conscience.
***
We haven't dared look upward for fear of what could come down. Stolen glimpses of the heavy abyss as we ran from shelter to shelter were all we dared. Since that awful day where torrents of devastation poured down, the great expanse above us filled us all with dread. First the hail fell for a solid week, then came the hurricanes, then barren nothingness, and that cycle repeated itself daily. After a few weeks, when we thought it couldn’t get any worse, gravity started to get stronger and everything started to drop. Within six months, all the stars had fallen to earth, the moon no longer lit up the night sky, and our usual cycle of day to night fell out of sync. It truly felt like we were witnessing the end of the world.
We sensed where the blame fell. We knew who had caused it - rumours of an alchemist in our midst who had torn their soul in two had been whispering their way through the desolate streets. After these months of torment, we were resolved in our desire for revenge. We plotted during the few stolen moments where we could safely gather, scattered among the spare hours that weren’t filled with natural phenomena. On the agreed night, we closed in on the culprit, swept them up and laid them bare for the skies to witness. We called on the Gods, both Old and New, and begged them to undo what the alchemist had so carelessly brought into our reality.
An energy was growing before our eyes. Winds picked up in the East, a torrent of hail was forming in the North, scorching heat poured in from the South, and frozen snow clouds were quickly moving in from the West. It was all charging forth to join in one culmination that was getting closer and closer. For a second, we wondered what we had done. Then, as all four corners of the Earth met, a single bolt of lightning shot down from the chaotic sky immediately above our sacrifice. It hit the ground, through their body, and flames erupted in front of us. We were in such shock that we couldn’t appreciate the calm all around.
***
You were taken, and you knew you needed to be taken. You had caused so much anguish, so much irreversible damage to the Earth, there was nothing else that could have been done. The world is a better place now - you understand, don’t you? If you had stayed, if you hadn’t allowed yourself to be sacrificed, humankind would have collapsed in on itself. But now the winds have returned to a velocity that doesn’t deal such destruction, new stars have exploded and the moon has never been so bright.
You can be seen, on occasion, in moments where seasons collide and Mother Nature’s children cross paths. You are acknowledged. You are blamed. You will be revered and feared for eternity.