1 The Promised Rain

Aras Ealdwine opened the windows of his office, begrudgingly welcoming the sunlight that greeted him on the first evening of the year. The promised rain should be falling any time soon, leaving him with no choice but to stand there in front of the windows, cursing the sweltering heat pricking his skin. The heat was too much even for his youthful seventeen-year-old body, but it was more excruciating for his mind which was way past his body's age.

If he weren't the town's mayor of Bast, Aras wouldn't have to care about the rain or the crops. He'd leave the others to worry about those. Instead, he'd be with his pals merrily drinking inside the pub or perhaps already wasted, walking woozily along the alleys. Then he'd go home to an angry wife who would nag him until he fell asleep on the couch. The next day, he'd have to make up to his wife by buying her a gorgeous bouquet of roses. Afterward, he'd take her and their grandchildren—or great-grandchildren perhaps—to the market to purchase anything they wanted.

That was 'if' he weren't the town's mayor. The fact was, he was, and there probably won't be a day wherein he wasn't.

Rubbing his sweaty palms together as he rubbed away the daydreams from his thoughts, Aras turned to the wall clock and started counting down the last seconds before seven.

"Five, four, three, two…One."

The sky darkened, and the rain poured.

The raindrops hammered the rooftops and trickled on the ground. Soon, the townspeople's cheers and joyful tears filled the air. After one whole year of terrible drought, the rain finally arrived, bringing along a group of heavy clouds to temporarily conceal the sun.

Aras could hear the voice of the pub owner yelling, "Free beer! Free beer!" Aras craved for a mug or two, but it would be troublesome if the military were to catch him, the town's mayor, drinking inside the local pub. The last thing Aras would want was to be humiliated in front of his people again. Everyone in town had now caught up to Aras's age, and he could feel his people's respect for him wavering with each passing year. Who could blame them?

Aras's gaze shifted to the tallest building in town, towering at the very heart of Bast…the town hall. Aras smirked at himself. Even their stupid town hall had more power than him. Nonetheless, power was not something to gripe about. At least not in Bast, where power was merely an illusion of a dreamy mind.

***

The blaring trumpets and pounding drums warned Aras that the marching band was on its way. The same stupid band that played the same stupid lively song, though Aras was probably the only one who didn't like that tune. All around him people were singing, laughing, and cheering.

Aras looked down at the baker's family across the street as they burst out of their door, out into the open to soak under the rain. The baker's two boys splashed water against each other, laughing and singing, not bothered by the number of times they slipped and fell flat on the wet cobblestone street.

Aras's brows furrowed, not quite sure how to express the muddle of emotions evoked by the sight. It was good to know the boys still had the hearts of kids. But it was devastating at the same time, knowing that the boys had been carrying the same hearts inside the same tiny bodies for over a hundred years.

Then again, why should Aras be bothered? His heart no longer had the capacity to feel bad for others.

With a sigh, Aras closed the windows and retreated into his favorite mahogany chair. Indeed, the Empire did keep most of its promises, and Aras had tons of reasons to be grateful. However, the Empire was still yet to return to the people of Bast the one thing that Aras yearned for the most…their time.

***

In a town where the natural flow of time had long been forfeited, Aras knew there was nothing in Bast that could ever pique his interest. He'd seen and heard everything there was to know about Bast and all its people. But as Aras slumped lazily on his mahogany chair the day after the promised rain, two shocking news caught him off-guard.

The first was delivered by his servant, Shellah, who rushed into his office, slamming the door open, panting like she came running from the edge of town.

"She…" Shellah began with difficulty as she struggled to catch her breath.

"She? Who?" Aras asked, not particularly interested in whatever story he would be told, but slightly amused at Shellah's actions. Shellah was a rather meek servant and was never the type to pull a show such as this.

Shellah took in another deep breath, and her exhausted breathing reminded Aras how pitiful she was. Shellah was forced to live with a perpetually pale face, with compressed cheeks and drooping eyes that had trouble seeing due to the bangs that always stuck up on her head. Shellah's thin body also seemed too fragile, it could break anytime. She gets tired easily that a flight of twenty steps might have felt like running for half a mile. Due to these, Shellah appeared to be nearing retirement age though her physical age was supposed to be just thirty-three.

"Who?" Aras asked again when Shellah's breathing had normalized.

"The baker," Shellah said.

"The baker? Louie?"

Shellah nodded to Aras's dismay. Indeed, it was going to be one of the same old stories. Aras had known the town's baker and his next-door neighbor, Louie Wellington, for forever, and for Aras, even 'forever' meant a great deal longer than it normally should. He, Louie, and the pub owner Tom Harvey went to school together. Aras was the dreamer, Tom was the crowd pleaser, and Louie was…well, Louie.

"Oh, good old, Louie."

"His daughter," Shellah hastily added, probably noting the disinterest in Aras's tone. "Julienne."

Aras paused at the mention of the name. Louie Wellington's daughter…the eldest child Julienne. Julienne was one of the few remaining 'maidens' in town. With her silky black tresses, her unblemished fair skin, and her deep blue eyes that never betrayed any signs of weariness, Julienne captivated almost every man in Bast.

Aras detested Julienne. He did find her alluring, yes; however, she was self-absorbed and manipulative. She took as many men as she wanted at any given time, but when she was done with a man, she was done. She did whatever she pleased, and not even Louie could restrain her.

For the past months, Aras had not seen Julienne to his delight. According to their Apothecary, Julienne caught some strange sickness and needed bed rest. Every time Aras would drop by next door to purchase pastries, he'd inquire about Julienne—purely to start a conversation. Louie would only reply in a dismissive tone, 'Fine.' After a couple of times of getting the same answer, Aras stopped asking about Julienne. Truth be told, he had forgotten about her…until now.

"Ah…" Aras breathed. "It seems Julienne had passed on, I assume. Must have been a terrible sickness indeed." (Good for her and for me), he added inside his head as he stood. "I might as well pay my respects and—"

"Sir, please listen!" Shellah screamed, loud enough to cause Aras to sink back into his chair.

Before Aras could retort, Shellah suddenly shouted a word Aras hadn't heard for the past century. A word he last heard on the day time went awry for the people of Bast.

"Childbirth!" Shellah's eyes grew larger. "She died of childbirth! There's a baby! Julienne conceived a baby!"

Aras stared at Shellah, dumbfounded. "I—Sorry? Ch—childbirth? Baby? Conceived? We're talking about a living, breathing…human baby?"

Shellah nodded. "The baby was born last night, sir."

"Baby…Born…" Aras mumbled to himself.

Before Aras could fully process what he just heard, the sounds of heavy footsteps sprinting up the staircase announced the arrival of his secretary Bowdyn Edwards. Bowdyn dashed to Aras's office, forcibly squeezing in his stout physique into the door.

"I'm sorry, Bowdyn," Aras immediately said before Bowdyn could open his mouth. "If this isn't urgent, could you—"

"P—pu—o—nrr—" Bowdyn breathed, and both Aras and Shellah turned to him with a mixture of curious and annoyed looks.

"I'm sorry?" Aras asked.

"Pub owner…waf…"

"Pub owner? What?" Aras asked

"Th—the…"

"Oh, in the name of Sieffer!" Aras shouted. "Bowdyn, I've already heard one shocking news today, so if you will keep stamme—"

"Dpubownrswafgeyvbith…sir!"

"What!" Aras slammed his fists on his chair while fighting the urge to punch his secretary.

Bowdyn heaved one last heavy sigh before repeating slowly, "The pub owner's wife gave birth last night…Sir."

Shellah gasped, and Aras's mouth fell open, his fists suddenly relaxing as numbness quickly took over his body.

"Sir," Bowdyn continued, "the military knows. They're on their way."