He that controls the Rain
He that Controls the Rain
By R.W. Parker
Rain never fell on Rura-Kallan. The Sun shined bright and nothing more than a stiff wind ever blew. The city was ideal, but problematic as all ideals are. The people who lived in this small seaside town never wondered about the rain, or the sunshine, or the lack of seasons. They just went about their business certain that sometime the rain would fall again, after all the sun cant always shine, and sometimes the wind blows fowl.
It was the third day of the seventh month when they arrived. Three figures dressed in long silver cloaks each emblazed with a symbol, a sickle in a circle. They had come to many towns and too many people. Sometimes hiding in the shadows and sometimes,like today, walking in broad daylight. They had no name that the average person would know, they werent interested in average people.
There was one man who loved the town of Rura-Kallan. He loved the streets, he loved the buildings, he loved the trees, the