The first rains of the warmest summertide had brought reprieve and death to the small town.

  After weeks of blistering heat, dark pockets in the sky loomed above, threatening to unleash at any given moment. Stalls closed early and people gathered barefoot in the streets eagerly waiting for it to fall. Children laughed and weaved through bare legs, racing each other to where the cobblestone sloped and rainwater pooled. Amongst them, a young girl with hair as wild as a bramble bush darted through.

  Willow giggled and pushed to the front of the herd, her bare feet slapping against cobblestone. ‘Be home by sunset’ father had yelled as she raced out the door, praying to Solis for rain.

  She looked up. And Solis answered.

  A single droplet landed on the smatter of freckles on her cheek. And then another. Until the heavens unleashed.

  People cheered and children stamped their feet, allowing the rain to seep into their skin. It watered crops and cleansed the streets. Frustrations and tensions between one another washed away with the rain. Willow couldn’t believe her father would miss this.

  Roaring rain turned to fine mist and the sun burned orange through grey skies. They danced and splashed until their feet hurt and mothers began beckoning their brood inside. Willow stopped when she was the last left and her hair was slick against her back.

  She inhaled, basking in the fresh smell of rain and wood. Somewhere in town a fire burned, people likely drying off before retiring for the evening. A light chill sailed through the air, the downpour dampening the unbearable heat.

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  Willow wrapped her arms around herself, fingertips brushing the goose pimples that now arose, and made her way towards home. Thoughts drifted to her father’s forge, warming up her chilled skin before bedtime. If she was lucky, perhaps he would split a sticky bun with her.

  Cobblestone turned to dirt as she exited Briarwood to their cottage on the outskirts. Droplets kissed her skin, rainwater rolling off the leafy canopy above her head. Willow looked down to the dirt stuck to the soles of her feet and between her toes. In all the excitement, she had forgotten her boots.

  The canopy broke above her and Willow looked up, frowning.

  Black smoke curled through the evening sky and on its wind carried burning embers. It was wrong. Too thick and smelled too much like wood to be the forge. Something was wrong.

  Willow broke into a run, wincing as rocks cut into her feet and flecks of mud painted her bare legs. The air became hotter, thicker, smoke drifting through the trees. Why was there so much smoke? How was there so much?

  She coughed. Her eyes burned and tears pricked at the corners but she charged through, shielding her face with her forearm. Where was he? Why had he not come searching?

  An eternity passed as she arrived at the clearing of her home.

  Screams for her father tore from her throat. Flames licked at the walls and engulfed the thatched roof, rising high into the sky. She screamed again and again but her cries were swallowed by the ear-splitting crackling of wood burning and splitting. There was so much smoke, the front door lost in a haze of embers.

  The young girl collapsed to her knees and tilted her head to the sky, tears lost in the rain that was a fine mist. She clasped her hands together in prayer and prayed for her father’s safety. Prayed for someone to help. Prayed for Solis’ healing storm.

  This time, the old God did not answer.