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Clouds, thick and sinisterly black, roll across the sky, so that no sunlight can filter through. A wind whose speed is almost that of a gale whooshes past trees and grass, making mournful whistling noises. Muffled thunder grumbles within the clouds every now and then. The temperature drops steadily as the hours go by.

The old man stands on a clearing, listening and watching. He does not like this change of weather, not at all. In all the years he has been on this land there has never been such constant bad weather. For two weeks in a row it is always like this, and a downpour will be inevitable come afternoon. Sometimes he feels the earth move but is unsure whether it actually does or that it is his own paranoia.

"Damn Athena."

The speaker is a young girl next to him. Her blue-green eyes flash as they roam across the restless sky and scan the clouds, which appear to grow ever more solid.

"Do you think she sends this weather to torment us?" the old man asks.

"No. But this is her fault. No mistake about it."

"You are being unjust and prejudiced."

"I’m also being correct."

They fall silent. Droplets of rain spatter them randomly, then are blown away by the strong wind.

At length the old man muses, "I wonder…if Athena comes here and sees this, will she be willing to help us?"

"Athena here? What are you talking about? Weathers aren’t her field."

"But you just said this is all her fault."

"Don’t mind me, I spoke without thinking, as usual. Do you actually believe she can do anything to stop this weather?"

He does not reply, merely gazing into the distance. The girl, knowing better than to disturb him, strolls away. Above them, thunder blinks at the edge of the black clouds. The wind is rising another notch.

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Continued to Chapter One

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