ERIKA
"Every rain comes with a chance of thunder, but they all pass nevertheless."
That line crossed my mind as I stood at the edge of the field, dew soaking through the hem of my cloak.
Behind me, the night pulsed with music and fireworks — the festival of descent-, the fools celebrating the arrival of their new gods. Infront of me, the world that had long gone quiet except for the nightly predatos chasing their prey -a forest-.
That's when I saw him.
He wasn't dead — not entirely — though he should've been. His body was sprawled across the wet grass,his looks ordinary in every way that should've made him forgettable: average build, rough hair, a face that could disappear in any crowd. Yet from the torn ends of his arms, flesh was growing.
Bone first, then sinew, then skin — slow, deliberate, obscene.
No man could do that. No human, at least.
I watched for a while, arms crossed, the fireworks still painting his half-formed silhouette in bursts of red and gold. When his eyes finally opened, they met mine — disoriented but calm, like someone waking from a long, boring dream.
"You do realize you're being hunted?" I asked.
He blinked. "For my heart, I suppose." His voice was coarse, as if it hadn't been used in years.
I raised an eyebrow. "You say that like you've accepted it."
He gave a half-laugh — more like a dry exhale, a sound closer to a scoff than amusement.
The strange part wasn't his answer. It was that I understood him. The language of gods isn't supposed to translate. I frowned.
"You understand me?" I asked.
"Unfortunately," he said, and looked away.
Arrogant. Or maybe just tired. Either way, not impressive.
I drew the dagger from my belt and stepped closer. The grass whispered underfoot, the dew catching faint light as I knelt beside him. His expression didn't change.
"You're one of the Veyla,the new gods" I said quietly. "Specifically your the undying one the entire village has been aching to find."
He didn't respond.
I turned the blade over in my hand, watching the metal glint. "They hunt you for your heart, yes. Eating it gives your power to them— but only if the soul inside is truly dead. And you…"
I tilted my head, studying the slow pulse at his throat.
" Don't seem to do that ?"
"Seems so," he said." Could you tell them to quit it then "
I sheathed the blade, stood, and dropped it beside him.
"I could but I won't. heart's useless to me and anyone to that matter better get used to it before they find out."
His eyes flicked up, confused, a show of emotions, they do feel. I unclasped my cloak and tossed it over him.
"Cover yourself. The village doesn't need another reason to chase you but they don't know that."
The fireworks cracked again behind me — brighter, closer. Celebration for gods they hadn't yet met, and already wanted to devour.
I turned to leave.
"May we never meet again, stranger," I said without looking back.
He said nothing.
But the air felt heavier — the sands were shifting.
Hopefully for the better.