A Storm Before Dawn...
708 Words
The days passed quietly.
Blackstone Village welcomed the arrival of early autumn.
The forests surrounding the village turned shades of crimson and gold.
Hunters returned each evening with deer, rabbits, and wild boars.
Children raced through the fields until sunset.
Old men gathered beneath the ancient oak tree in the village square, arguing over stories that had grown taller with each passing year.
For most people...
Life changed very little.
---
For Mira...
Every day grew more difficult.
Her pregnancy had entered its final weeks.
Simple chores left her exhausted.
Even walking across the house caused pain.
Still...
She never complained.
Whenever Elena offered to help...
She simply smiled.
"You should be outside playing."
Elena shook her head.
"I can play tomorrow."
Mira gently brushed her daughter's hair aside.
"You've become such a responsible little girl."
---
Responsibility.
It was a word Elena had learned much too early.
She helped cook.
She fetched water.
She washed clothes by the river.
Sometimes...
She even waited outside the gambling house at night...
Hoping to walk her father home before trouble found him.
---
Unfortunately...
Trouble usually found him first.
---
Late one evening...
The door burst open.
Garrick stumbled inside.
This time...
His injuries were worse.
Blood trickled from his forehead.
His knuckles were split.
One eye had begun to swell shut.
Behind him stood two rough-looking men.
"We're collecting what's owed."
One of them stepped into the house without invitation.
His eyes swept across the room.
Poor furniture.
A small table.
Simple bowls.
Nothing of value.
He clicked his tongue.
"So this is where all your money goes."
Mira instinctively stepped in front of Elena.
"Please..."
"We'll repay it."
The man laughed.
"With what?"
He looked toward Garrick.
"You've been saying that for months."
Garrick clenched his fists.
"I'll work."
"I'll repay everything."
The second man scoffed.
"You said that last week."
"And the week before."
---
For a long moment...
Silence filled the room.
Then the first man sighed.
"We're not here to beat your wife."
He reached for the sack of grain sitting near the wall.
"We'll take this."
Mira's face turned pale.
"Please..."
"That's all we have."
The man hesitated.
For just a heartbeat.
Then he carried the sack outside.
Neither he nor his companion looked back.
---
The house became painfully quiet.
Elena lowered her head.
She had watched the entire exchange without saying a word.
Mira sat slowly on a chair, one hand resting protectively on her stomach.
Garrick remained standing.
His fists trembled.
Not with anger.
With helplessness.
He wanted to chase after them.
He wanted to fight.
But he knew he would lose.
And if he lost...
His family would suffer even more.
---
That night...
No one spoke during dinner.
There wasn't much to eat anyway.
A thin vegetable soup.
A few pieces of dry bread.
Elena quietly pushed part of her meal toward her mother.
"I'm not hungry."
Mira knew she was lying.
She said nothing.
Instead...
She split her own portion in half and returned it.
The two smiled weakly at one another.
---
Garrick watched from across the table.
Each bite felt heavier than the last.
The liquor bottle sitting beside him suddenly seemed...
Louder.
He reached for it.
Stopped.
Then reached again.
Finally...
He took a long drink.
Not because it solved anything.
But because, in that moment...
He didn't know how else to escape the shame.
---
Outside...
Rain began to fall.
A slow, steady rain.
The kind that seemed as though it would never end.
Far above the clouds...
At the edge of creation...
I stood alone.
His gaze rested not on kings.
Nor on gods.
But on a tiny wooden house hidden beneath the storm.
The Legendary Golden Dragon approached quietly.
"You already know the path that child will walk."
"I do."
"And yet..."
"You refuse to change it."
"I must."
The dragon lowered its enormous head.
"The road ahead is cruel."
"It is."
I answered.
"But a seed that never breaks its shell..."
"...can never become a tree."
The dragon fell silent.
Some destinies...
Could not be softened.
Only endured.
And beneath the storm...
In a humble home filled with hardship...
A child yet unborn waited for the day his story would begin
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