Thirteen- Vagrant Story

The rain is falling over Lea Monde.

It is the morning after the end of the world, and it is a surprisingly peaceful one. Later, there will be wars, and death, but for now the clouds are hanging like grey velvet curtains over the sky and somewhere deep in a forest that glittered like snow in the sunlight, a bird was singing.

Later, a man with fresh ink on his skin will wake up too late to stop his companion from sacrificing himself for a dead dream. A woman will hold a boy in an awkward embrace while he mourns the loss of his family. A soldier will flee, armed with too much truth for one man to carry, and a ghost will weep over the fresh corpses of those who were once his comrades.

There will be more bloodshed, and lies will be exposed and hidden and exposed again and finally forgotten; ghosts will move on, eventually, and a boy will grow up into a man who will not care who his brother was.

For now, though, the rain is falling over Lea Monde, washing the blood and magic from the stones. It is a quiet rain, soft and steady. It is the day after the end of the world, and the sun is beginning to rise.