It was raining again; the weather had been like this for a few days now. Sometimes the rain would stop for a moment, only to continue pouring down even harder. The streets of the little town Timferth were practically flooded because of the constant rain and almost nobody ventured out, the townsfolk rather stayed inside their warm homes. There weren't many travelers, either, so it was silent in Timferth. And because there weren't many people on the move, the inn where Lasrie worked was quite empty, meaning that there was no business, only boredom. One would think that people would come to the inn to seek shelter from the torrent, but apparently the weather was keeping everyone away, even the regular customers that would usually come to have a drink or two with their buddies. But that evening, they were absent and the inn was quiet.

However, the place wasn't completely empty, there were still two individuals hanging out in the dimly lit hall. They both were sitting at their own tables, the great distance between them telling that they wanted to be left alone. Lasrie didn't recognize either of them, they were both outsiders. He recalled that the other one had arrived yesterday, most likely waiting for the bad weather to cease – nobody liked to travel when it was raining this badly. And the other one had entered the inn just a while ago, in fact, his black cape was still dripping water as he sat near the fireplace, drinking beer leisurely. Every now and then Lasrie would glance at the two travelers while he was cleaning up beer steins over and over again just to have something to do. And a few times he would tap his fingers against the counter and ponder whether he should go talk to the travelers, but something in their body language told him that they would rather be left alone, so he did. He kept looking around in the hall, making observations out of boredom.

The relentless sound of water drops drumming against the windows was the most significant background noise. Other than that, the crackling sound coming from the fireplace was pretty much the only thing Lasrie could hear. It was kind of soothing. He let his gaze wander around the hall, watching how the light from the candles on the chandelier would play together with the shadows they created, along with the fire. Then he examined the tables that filled the spacious room, getting an idea of what to do next. He snatched an old rag and made his way to the first table, starting to clean it. Doing this would occupy him for a moment and so he immersed himself in this task of wiping every single table in the hall. Though it didn't take much time to complete this job and soon Lasrie found himself suffering from the boredom once again. His gaze wandered off in the direction of one of the windows that offered a view to the main street and slowly he began to walk towards it. Through the window he glanced at the darkness of the night, watching how the water drops would dance in the countless puddles that had formed during these few rainy days.

Lasrie stayed by the window for a good while, although there wasn't much to see outside since the weather kept everyone indoors. Often this street was bustling with life, but was now abandoned because of the rain and since it was such a late hour. But Lasrie continued to stare into the darkness, lost in his thoughts.

And then he saw something outside that stole his attention. A lone figure had appeared on the view and Lasrie curiously watched how it moved under the cover of darkness.

It was a tall and bulky looking individual, walking very slowly along the main street. Because of the darkness, it was hard to distinguish many of the person's features, but Lasrie could see that there were lots of pointy things sticking out of various parts of the individual's body. The person stomped forward and Lasrie kept his eyes fixed on the strange entity, until it had disappeared from his view.

Now, this wasn't the first time Lasrie had seen this person. In fact, a lot of the townsfolk of Timferth had seen him on rainy days like this one. The people had named him Storm Walker, because he was only seen walking through the town when it was storming or just raining heavily. Nobody knew exactly what his story was, but he had been around for decades. People were generally afraid of him, because he was seeking bones to add to his body, and it was believed that if you made contact with him, you would disappear, never to be seen again, so the townsfolk avoided him. Lasrie probably was a bit odd one, because he was slightly fascinated by this entity and whenever he would see Storm Walker, he would follow his going with interest. He was still a little afraid of him and wouldn't get close to him, but curiosity still lived in his heart.

Lasrie stepped away from the window after he was done with gazing at the dark and soaked street. He noticed movement by the stairs that led to the rooms where travelers stayed. A grey-haired, short and chubby man was descending the stairs; it was the innkeeper and who also happened to be Lasrie's father. He waddled towards the counter and once he was standing by it, he quickly looked around in the dim hall and signaled Lasrie to come over him. Lasrie walked across the hall towards his father and he smacked the rag he had been using on the counter.

“Go to bed”, his father said to him. “There probably won't be any more customers coming tonight.”

Lasrie did feel sleepy, so he happily obeyed. He started to make his way to the backroom and he waved at his father when he passed him. “Okay, good night.”

And then he disappeared into the room that was accessible to only him and his father. It was their own little place where they slept, rather small, but they were taking care of the inn most of the time, so it served its purpose well. It was furnished in a simple way and wasn't anything grand, but it was quite a cozy little place. Lasrie headed towards one of the beds and immediately laid down on it. He wrapped the blanket around his body, yawned a little and waited for the sleep to come. That didn't take long and soon he drifted into the land of dreams.

He rested well that night. When the new day dawned, Lasrie was the first one to wake up. His father was still sleeping when he got himself up from the bed, and a faint snore filled the room. Lasrie didn't want to wake him up yet and moved silently, stepping towards a small table where a bowl filled with water was standing. He washed his face swiftly but thoroughly and once he was done, he tiptoed through the room so he could start the new workday.

It was still raining that day and the view from the inn's windows was dominated by greyness. Few of the townsfolk came in throughout the day to have a drink and curse the constant bad weather. A slight gabble filled the inn's hall thanks to some of the customers that came that day, but it was still a quiet workday for Lasrie and his father. The rain was still keeping most of the people away and even those who visited the inn left when the darkness fell over the town. When it was late evening, there was no one spending time in the dim hall and Lasrie was once again trying to find chores to do because he was feeling bored again.

At some point he had taken a spot by the window once more and he was staring at the empty street. The rain had gotten worse by the evening and was pouring down heavily. It was now also accompanied by a strong wind that was howling ominously as it blew through Timferth. Lasrie was wondering when the rain would stop, but then his attention was caught again by something that was moving outside.

It was Storm Walker again. He was shambling along the street, all alone like always. Lasrie watched his going and he assumed that Storm Walker would soon disappear from view, but this time, this wasn't the case. Larie was surprised when Storm Walker stopped on his tracks and just stood there for a brief moment. Then he turned his head towards the window from which Lasrie was staring outside, completely stunning the young man. Through the darkness and heavy rain Lasrie couldn't see the strange entity's eyes, but he had this unnerving feeling that Storm Walker was staring right at him. And still, he didn't look away, he just continued to look towards the direction where Storm Walker's face was supposed to be.

Then something even more weird happened. Suddenly Lasrie could hear singing. It was an eerie, but alluring song, and it filled his mind. It resonated in his brain, captivating him, it was like a siren's song. It gave him this odd sensation that he should follow it, but at the same time, it frightened him so much that all the alarms in his head were blaring and he was stuck in a conflict of two separate desires. He was paralyzed by them and he got out of the situation only after Storm Walker started to move again, taking the strange song with him. Lasrie was left alone to ponder what he exactly had just experienced; did the Storm Walker really sing to him? Why hadn't he ever heard of this trait before? The young man shook his head in disbelief and stepped away from the window.

He noticed his father standing behind the counter, absent-mindedly cleaning it with a rug, since there wasn't much they could do when there were no customers. Because of this odd experience he had just had, Lasrie decided to talk about it with his father. He walked across the hall to the counter and leaned against it.

“Hey, dad”, he began. “Have you ever heard Storm Walker singing? Or do you remember anyone mentioning that he can sing?”

His father looked a little puzzled by these questions. “No, I haven't. Where did you get this idea?”

“Well, I just heard him sing”, Lasrie responded honestly. “It was really weird… It, like, filled my head completely. Are you sure you didn't hear anything?”

The father shook his head. “No, I heard nothing. Maybe you should consult someone more knowledgeable than me.”

Lasrie had a feeling that his father did believe him, but just couldn't provide answers. Soon Lasrie went to bed, but before he managed to fall asleep, he was thinking about Storm Walker and the song he had heard. It was stuck in his head like a parasite and when he finally lost consciousness, even his dreams were filled with the sinister song of Storm Walker.

Surprisingly, the next day the rain had stopped at last. The day was still grey, but at least there was no more water falling from the sky. Lasrie stepped out of the inn for the first time in days, breathing in the fresh scent that lingered in the air. A rather thick fog was veiling Timferth, but the townsfolk accepted it since it was a welcome difference to the bad weather that had been staying in the town. After Lasrie was done with enjoying the fresh air and stretching his arms, he started his going, heading towards the home of an old man called Ington.

He had chosen to follow his father's advice and so he decided to ask if Ington knew something about Storm Walker. The old man knew many stories and Lasrie had fond childhood memories of sitting in a circle with other children, Ington in the middle and telling them wonderful tales. He didn't live far away from the inn and as Lasrie hurried through the soaked town, splashing water as he ran over many puddles, it didn't take long for him to reach the old man's house. He was panting a bit after this performance and tried to catch his breath a little before he knocked on the door. Then he waited for a while.

Eventually Ington opened the door. He was a short man with a long silvery beard and he was leaning on his cane, but even though old age had taken hold of him, he was still in a pretty good shape and healthy.

He was stroking his beard and his eyes were twinkling beneath the hefty eyebrows. “Ah, Lasrie. What brings you here?”

“I, uh…” Lasrie scratched the back of his head. “There is something I'd like to talk about, if you have time?”

“Of course, of course”, Ington said, waving his hand and stepping aside a little so the young man could walk past him. “Come in, come in.”

“Thank you”, Lasrie said and he stepped inside the old man's house, Ington then closed the door behind them.

The interior was quite a mess, just like how Lasrie remembered it. Books and strange objects filled every single corner of the house, but it seemed like the old man had some sort of order with his possessions. All of his weird items had a story and he had told some of them to Lasrie and other young ones. Lasrie and Ington walked through a narrow corridor before they came to a more spacious room where they could sit and hold their conversation. There was a table standing before a fireplace where a warm flame was crackling at that moment. Lasrie walked to the table and sat on one of the chairs surrounding it; many different kinds of chairs were scattered around the room. It was another weird thing in Ington's house, but he just wanted to have a few spare chairs in case he had more visitors coming.

The old man waddled away to another room that was connected to this spacious place. “Would you like some tea?”

“No, thank you”, Lasrie responded, trying to sound as polite as he could. He had learned a long time ago how awfully bitter the old man's tea tasted; he was amazed how anyone could possibly drink that stuff.

Lasrie watched the fire dance while he waited for the old man. When Ington wobbled back to the spacious room, he was holding a cup of tea and Lasrie could smell its weird pungent scent even across the room. Ington placed his cup on the table and sat down while grunting, taking his place on the opposite end of the table than where Lasrie was sitting.

“So, what did you want to talk about?” Ington asked with a faint smile on his face.

“Well, it's about Storm walker”, Lasrie responded. “I just thought that maybe you know stuff about him more than anyone else in the town…”

“Ah, Storm Walker…” The old man stroked his silvery beard again. “Indeed, I may know something, but don't expect too much. What do you want to know?”

“I just… I just heard him sing the last time I saw him”, Lasrie said. “And it was so strange… It clouded my mind entirely. I haven't heard him sing ever before and… I've been wondering what that was about?”

“Singing, huh…” Ington took a sip from his hot drink. “Storm Walker is a strange entity. We still don't know much about him. I, personally, haven't ever heard him sing. But I do remember one person mentioning it, though it happened a long time ago.”

“Oh? What did they say?” Lasrie inquired curiously.

“Hmm…” The old man seemed to look somewhere far away, as if he could see vividly into the past. “I remember him being very distressed. He said that the song was stuck in his head, giving him alien thoughts. And then one day, he just disappeared. We still don't know what happened to him.”

“That's… horrible…” Lasrie was shocked by this tale. Inevitably his first thought was that he would suffer the same fate as this unfamiliar man.

Ington saw the anxiety on his face and said: “He was never too sane to begin with. I wouldn't worry too much if I were you. Just stay away from Storm Walker and you'll be fine.”

These words didn't really make Lasrie feel better. He still couldn't shake the feeling that there was something very sinister about Storm Walker's song, but something so unheard of that Ington didn't know anything about it. Lasrie had hoped to find answers from the old man, but had gained dread instead since the last person who had similar experience as him had mysteriously disappeared.

He still tried to seek some sort of guidance. “So, you have no idea why Storm Walker would sing?”

“I'm afraid not”, Ington responded. “But like I said, I wouldn't worry about it. Storm Walker is an entity we should avoid in any case, so if we obey that guideline, everything will be fine.”

Lasrie was a little disappointed. He slowly stood up and said: “Well, thank you for your time. Goodbye.”

The old man nodded to him. “I hope I was useful. See you later.”

Lasrie began to move away from the old man, heading back to the corridor from which he had come from. Soon he was at the door and he went through it, slipping outside, back to the mist. As he was walking towards the inn, gloomy thoughts were filling his head. If Ington didn't know anything, then most likely nobody else would. The fate of the unfamiliar man was something Lasrie couldn't shake away from his mind, he knew he should stop thinking about it, but it was like glued to his head. He realized that it was a matter that would make him lose sleep if he continued to dwell on it, but it wasn't easy to just forget about it. Besides, it was something he wouldn't be able to resolve anyway. It was just a pesky and unpleasant thought haunting his mind.

But the next couple of days gave him something else to think about since suddenly more people had made their way into the inn, both townsfolk and foreign travelers. It kept him busy and the constant chores left no time for him to dwell on his mind and he was actually a bit thankful for that. And in fact, after one busy day he almost completely forgot the troubling matter with Storm Walker's singing and was happily just living his ordinary life.

After the mist had faded, sunlight was finally shedding over Timferth. This, naturally, tempted people to leave their houses and soon the streets were bustling with the everyday life of the townsfolks. Children were playing outside and their cheerful noises filled the air. People were chatting with their neighbors and finally had a chance to return to doing their tasks. Generally the townsfolks were in a good mood since there was light again in their lives and they really enjoyed the sunshine which they had yearned for so long. And soon after the sun had come back, so did the travelers and they walked among the townsfolk on the busy streets. It seemed like that thing was about to become normal again.

The pleasant days filled with warmth and light lasted for a few days. It was a rather short-lived period, for the rainy days came back again, wrapping Timferth in gloomy and grey veil once more, much to the disappointment of the people who had hoped the sunny days would hang around a bit longer. Forced to stay indoors again, the people began to wait for better weather to come once more. The rainfall was heavy and soon the streets were flooded; the sun had done futile work with drying them. It seemed like the pouring wouldn't stop for a while.

The inn was quiet again. A group of three travelers were sitting around one table, muttering something among each other. Lasrie didn't pay much attention to them, he just slowly wandered around the hall doing little tasks like cleaning the tables and tending the fireplace. But eventually, his boredom would draw him close to a window again, and soon he was staring out into the darkness, as usual. Lasrie wondered if he would see Storm Walker that night.

And soon after thinking about that, he could distinguish the familiar bulky figure slowly walking on the main street. Usually Lasrie would follow his going with interest, but now he was nervous. But still, he couldn't take his eyes off of the lone individual. Storm Walker took a few more sluggish steps and then stopped. He turned his head towards the inn's window and even though Lasrie couldn't see his eyes, he had this frightening feeling that Storm Walker was staring right at him. And just like Lasrie had dreadfully expected, he could hear him singing again.

For a short moment Lasrie forgot everything around him; he forgot where he was standing, the murmuring between the travelers, the warmth from the fireplace… There were just these words invading his mind, they were telling him to follow them. Everything he could see was the lone figure behind the window. The only thoughts in his mind were those that told him to go to Storm Walker, even though he wasn't given a reason why he should do this. He just had to. Lasrie actually took a couple of wobbly steps away from the window, heading towards the door.

Then he heard a loud smash.

The trance-like state got broken and for a few seconds Lasrie was baffled. He looked around for the source of the sound he had heard. Apparently a quarrel had broken out with the travelers and one of them had thrown their tankard in a fit of rage and it had hit the wall behind one of the men, breaking down to pieces. The one throwing the object probably had meant it to hit his companion, but had missed. However, now the group of men were getting physical and started to fight with each other, but the innkeeper didn't approve any of this and he waddled across the hall to stop their ridiculous clash. Lasrie just watched them with glazed eyes, still a little mesmerized by Storm Walker's song. But the fight had happened at a perfect moment since it had snapped Lasrie out of the spell, saving him. And he did feel a bit relieved because of that. He had stepped near the window again and looked outside, but Storm Walker was gone.

However, the cursed seeds had already got planted inside Lasrie's head.

He felt longing, that there was some place where he had to be. The sensation was so strong, it was weighing down his soul, it was like an ache in his chest. But he also felt fear, even though the other emotions tried their best to smother it. But that fear was the last strand of sense he had, otherwise he would have surrendered to the thoughts that were bouncing in his mind, commanding him to step outside to the rain and seek the place where his instincts were telling him to go. All of a sudden he felt like he didn't belong to this reality where he was now standing, no, he was needed somewhere else. But it wasn't his time yet, he had to wait for another call. It felt painful, but he had to stay put a little bit longer – he would be rewarded.

So Lasrie waited.

The rain continued to fall the next day. Gradually it became worse as the day progressed, pouring down heavily and occasionally lightning would strike and thunder would roar. It was yet another miserable weather for the townsfolk, but to Lasrie, it was just a sign that he could soon fulfill his purpose. He had barely slept at all, his thoughts were running in circles. He had to go, he had to become part of something great. The whole day he just loitered around, like a sleepwalker. He could hear his father's voice sometimes, but it sounded like it was coming from somewhere far away. It really had no impact on him. He just waited; it was the only thing he could do.

When the darkness arrived that evening, Lasrie felt increasingly eager and restless. The storm outside was exciting him, he knew that the time was at hand. He had been marching back and forth between the windows of the inn, impatiently waiting for the great moment. He could feel somebody touching him, grabbing his arm, but he would shake them off. There was only one thing in his mind and he had to stay vigilant for it.

And at last, his wait was over. He didn't see the one whose presence he had been yearning for, but he could hear him. He was singing, pleading with Lasrie to follow his voice. Lasrie felt like his heart was about to burst and he hurried to the door of the inn and wrenched it open, running to the flooding street, not caring at all about the storm. He was wildly glancing all around him, trying to figure out where to go. But the song, the soft and gentle song, it was acting as his guide. He didn't have to worry, it would lead him to where he needed to go. Lasrie turned around, now knowing where to go, and so he started running, hurrying towards the beautiful and enthralling song.

Lasrie ran through the town, through the fields that surrounded Timferth. The song that was playing in his mind, it was giving him strength, blessing him so he could hurry forward. He left behind all the familiar places, these parts where he had grown up. But it didn't matter to him and eventually his lone figure was devoured by the dark tree line, and he was never seen again in his hometown.

Still pursuing the song, he continued running, his shoes dirty with the mud. The road was in a bad state and it hindered his pace a little, consuming more of his energy. But still, he had to go on, he had to reach the place where he was needed. And the song, that sweet and gentle song, it was getting louder, encouraging him that soon his journey would be over and he would be rewarded for his dedication. So Lasrie kept pushing forward, the ache in his legs and the burning sensation in his lungs didn't matter at all, he would get to his destination even if his body broke along the way.

Now the song was so strong, it was resonating in the air of the woods. Lasrie knew that he was almost there and soon enough he could see a figure standing in the middle of the road, concealed by the darkness that had fallen over the world. Lasrie finally slowed down, exhausted but content, walking towards the familiar person. He had never seen Storm Walker close before, but now, he could finally take a good glance at him.

He was a tall man with a bulky body, his skin was grey and looked rotten in some parts. His clothes were shredded, partly because of the many pieces of bones that were sticking out of his body. He had long and dark hair, however it had thinned out. His red eyes were fixated on Lasrie and their gaze was surprisingly tender, he was staring at the young man with intensity, it was like he was seeing someone familiar to him whom he hadn't met in ages. And that look didn't change as Lasrie walked closer to him, and he kept singing to him.

Lasrie was finally where he was supposed to be. Storm Walker took a couple of slow steps towards him, never stopping his singing. He took a hold of Lasrie's shoulder and looked him in the eyes softly. His grasp on the young man's shoulder tightened until, with monstrous strength, he ripped his arm off. Blood gushed on the muddy ground and Lasrie was breathing heavily, but no scream came out of his mouth. Storm Walker tore off the flesh from the severed arm with his sharp claws till mostly just bone remained. His hands now covered in the young man's blood, he struck the bloody bone to his thigh, a little bit of blood flowing from it. And all the while he was doing these gruesome deeds, he continued to sing. He needed more bones and he could get them from Lasrie. So he used his claws to tear open Lasrie's chest and stomach, making a surprisingly clean cut. He shredded the skin like if it was paper, it was the ribcage he was after. He cracked a few bones from it, proceeding then in sticking them to his own body; to his shoulder, arm and side. Blood was streaming out of Lasrie's body and his organs were falling out from his torn-out abdomen, so he fell on his knees, blood spilling out of his mouth.

But at no point he felt fear, for he knew this was his purpose. It was an honor that Storm Walker had chosen him, that pieces of him would be forever parts of Storm Walker, along with other chosen ones. As Lasrie was dying, he could hear the others singing through their bones that were sticking out of Storm Walker. He would join them. And Lasrie collapsed on the muddy ground, dying with a smile on his face.

Finally, Storm Walker ended his song. He stared at the fresh body of a young man for a while, but soon started to walk away slowly, heading towards the town once again. He needed more bones to add to his own flesh, he required the life force hidden in them. He had to find a new soul willing to offer him what he desired and so he would patrol the streets of Timferth until he would find a new chosen one.

But he was in no rush. He had all the time he needed. Even if it took years, he would find suitable bones and make them part of himself.