The Coming Storm

The villagers, cloaked in rags that swayed in the sea breeze that was forming, were silent in slight confusion. The volcano erupting was almost a monthly occurrence; there was normally no need for panic this far away from the volcano. The rumbling of the ground was what worried the village; it was not normal to feel the volcanic tremors in Heeteth. They all knew, as they stood there in the sun, that there was something far worse happening that their leader had yet to say.

He took a deep breath. "This time, we believe it will begin the lavastorm."

The lavastorm. An ancient prophecy foretold of the worst volcanic eruption ever seen, one that would take place on their island. It was said that there would be white clouds of ash thick enough to suffocate anyone outside, and dark clouds would rain down liquid fire on the land. As their leader spoke, a group of storm clouds coming from the oceanic winds began to envelop the sweltering sun, and the wind began to pick up more. A storm was coming sooner than anyone would have liked, but as the news sunk in to the Heeteth villagers, everyone knew it was to be followed by something much worse.

A brief moment of chaos in the otherwise controlled, grave meeting is silenced when Jordan Acuanim raises his palm for order. "Do not panic, please. We began building an underground shelter three months ago when another village seer warned of the lavastorm's coming. We just weren't sure until now."

The End

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