The Girl Named 'Rain'

Aras knew early on never to trust his own decisions for he always ended up regretting them later. For starters, there was Belinda. The ever so gorgeous and charming Bel. Until today, Aras couldn't bring himself to visit the old chapel in the midst of the woods where Bel used to work as one of the volunteers, treating the wounded refugees of the war and teaching impoverished children to read. One time, she said she wanted to get married, live a simple life, and have a baby girl. But Aras refused. Back then, he scoffed at the idea of a 'simple life.' He wanted to become the mayor, and he did a few years later…and she died, a few days later.

He tried dating other girls, but he was never able to find someone like Bel. Eventually, he had to accept the fact that at least in Bast, there definitely won't be anyone like Bel.

Bel was only one of Aras's many regrets, and he wondered whether he was about to make another one now.

The shrill cries made Aras wince, disrupting the flow of his thoughts. He turned to Shellah and the barely-a-week-old newborn life she was cradling in her arms. The baby girl stretched her tiny arms upwards as if trying to reach Shellah's cheeks.

"She has beautiful blue eyes," Shellah said, "like her mother." Her voice trailed off at the last word.

Aras walked toward the windows to take a quick peek at the Wellingtons' place right across the street. As it was since the day after Julienne's burial, the Wellingtons' house was dark—curtains down, not a single light on, windows completely shut—and huge chains sealed by a large padlock were wrapped around the front door. No one knew what happened to the remaining Wellingtons.

The same was the case with the Harveys. All of a sudden, they were just gone. Not a single trace.

People vanishing in Bast was not a new story. Anyone who had committed a criminal offense, whether something as simple as stealing or as grave as murder were taken by the military, never to be seen again. However, this was definitely the first time that two families disappeared at the same time.

"She's with the Apothecary," Aras recalled a distraught Louie said when they met after the burial. "The Empire doesn't know yet. No one does. Only the Apothecary and you. You can have her. You can do anything you want with her. It's your choice. If you need to…If you want to…You can kill her."

You can kill her…

Sighing, Aras looked back at Shellah. "We have to do this, Shellah."

"What about the other baby, sir?"

Aras shook his head. "That's out of our hands now. But for this one…" Aras gestured at the baby in Shellah's arms. "We may still have a chance."

Shellah hugged the baby tighter to her chest as she hushed the little one's cries. "I'm not sure if this is right, sir."

"Me, too. But I think uncertainty may be a good thing." Aras smiled. "I was sure with a lot of my decisions before, and each one of them turned out to be grave mistakes. This one, I have doubts—really huge doubts—but for some reason because of these doubts, I believe we should try. We should do this."

Seeing the glimmer in Shellah's eyes, Aras knew his words were convincing, but he wasn't as easily convinced as her. Even his own words couldn't expel the heavy air accumulating in his chest. He knew he shouldn't be doing this. He did consider surrendering the child to the military. He would have surely done that if not for that conversation with Louie. (The Empire doesn't know? Of course, they do. They know, and they'll be coming…Soon.)

Aras never stopped berating himself for acting all 'mayor-like' and approached Louie to give his well-rehearsed condoling message—one he had told every other townsfolk who lost someone. It would have been better if he left immediately after the burial. It would have been better if he remained ignorant of the truth.

He knew the Empire wanted the child. One of first two babies ever born in Bast for more than a century. In a town where no new life, except for the crops, should ever be formed. Indeed, the births of the babies were an inexplicable anomaly…A very frightening anomaly.

However, there was nothing else he could do now but to keep the smile and his composed tone to make sure Shellah did what he wanted. He only needed to play the 'wise elder' card, and it will be all right. They may be both well past the hundredth mark now, but he was still older than Shellah by almost twenty years. Unlike most of his people, Shellah would still acknowledge that meager twenty-year gap. She was too kind and well-mannered to a fault. Still, if the 'wise elder' card were to fail, he already had another plan carefully prepared.

Aras headed for his desk and pulled open the topmost drawer to retrieve a white velvet pouch. He shook the pouch, making the gold coins inside tinkle, as he spoke, "I'm sorry for asking you to do this, Shellah. I'm not sure if twenty pieces of gold coins would be enough as compensation, but please take these. Use them in any way you see fit." Aras stared at Shellah for a few seconds, waiting for a happy reaction, but there was none. Instead, she just looked at him with a creased forehead and a slightly opened mouth. Whatever the meaning behind that look was completely lost to him. He just shrugged it off and proceeded as planned.

"One hundred and seventy-three years. Thank you," Aras said, diverting his stare to Shellah's luggage which was already waiting at the door of his office. He at least meant it when he said those last two words. Despite all the lies he told Shellah then and now, he was truly grateful.

Shellah stifled a sob. "One hundred seventy-three years, eight months, and ten days, sir." Aras grunted, and she responded with a half-hearted laugh.

"Thank you too, sir."

Aras smiled—a genuine smile for the first time that night and perhaps for the entire week—before he went to stuff the pouch inside Shellah's luggage. "And also…" Aras began as he checked if all the locks of the luggage were secured. "The name…"

"Sir?"

"The child's name. Louie told me Julienne wanted the name, Rain."

"Rain? You mean like the promised rain, sir?"

"Yes, like the promised rain. She was born close to midnight that day, seconds before the promised rain stopped. So Julienne named her Rain…Rain Ealdwine."

"Eald—wine?"

"Yes," Aras said, his fists clenching. The next words he was about to say seemed stuck in his throat for a moment. He didn't want to believe it either. "It seems…" He took a deep breath. "That child is mine."