"What does that look like? Is it clouds? Think they're grey?"

Blacken skies, not a dot, not a single twinkle twinkling up there in the vast dark yonder up so high. Got my neck angled upwards, craning to the left and right, staring into the infinite darkness above, hoping my ass off that I'd be able to just stroll on back to the living room soon, a smile on my face, reassuring every apprehensive soul inside that what was just heard was merely a false alarm.

Till then, my shoes would continue to scrunch about the tall dewy grass, the chilly breeze free to howl its haunting song, rustling the leaves, swaying the flowers, pestering my scouring eyes.

Can't find that false alarm.

"Amanda, you see anything?" I asked out loud, daring a single fleeting glance backward to my star gazing partner on patrol.

Sadly she didn't seem too devoted to the cause as much as I, neglecting herself back to the porch, leaning lackadaisically against a narrow beam of wood.

"It's four in the morning," She said, sheltering her nippy hands beneath the sleeves of her tracksuit.

"How about that one there? Does that look like a cloud to you?"

Amanda blew out a quivering breath. "Um… It's four in the morning? I… I don't know what you're really expecting to find here."

"Nothing, hopefully," I answered back, lapping the gardens for the third time. "I'm hoping the worst that'll come out of this is that I've become a really paranoid bastard that doesn't have a single ounce of trust for the weatherman no more."

"Well, you trust me? Cause my phone here is saying it's just gonna be a light sprinkle."

"I know what 'light' sounds like," I said, gulping in the icy air through gritted teeth. "And that big boom just now wasn't."

"Look maybe… maybe it was just that? Just a boom. I mean, seriously, what are the chances of supernatural rain happening for the second time in a row in the same city? I feel… normal rain, it seems more likely, doesn't it?"

Okay, now she really was starting to sound just like me in my heydays of naivety so pure and innocent. How many countless times already have I tried to play the devil's advocate only to get unceremoniously thrown under the bus by said devil?

Got a long, long list of 'unlikely's and 'impossible's spoken throughout the months and weeks I've been in the company of the non-fictions. If I had a dollar for every time I try to speak the contrary, you can bet your ass I wouldn't be borrowing any money from any loan sharks in any of my lifetimes after time this one.

Exaggerating a bit, but yeah… Murphy's Law was like my primary religion at the moment. If I stick to the core fundamentals of it, then without a doubt, there won't be any more devils throwing me under any more buses.

I'd hate to have to see Amanda go through what I did - denial for the worst possible outcome was an easy way to cope with the circumstances dealt to you, until the worst possible outcome actually does happen… the hell do you do then?

She's gonna have to learn quickly that these types of things just don't sway to your favor just cause you want them to. Just cause you hear thunder doesn't mean it's just rain.

It's always... always much more than that.

And there it was, timing so impeccable you'd swear it was almost planned. Up above in the gloomy sky so dark and malevolent, a single flash of lighting enveloping the boundless horizon… and indeed, that clap of thunder from before was much, much more than it was.

A roll of grey murky clouds blanketed the skies, shadowed the stars, and shaded the moon from shining bright. It was amassing, it was coalescing, and another reverberating boom was sounding.

Murphy's Law. Oh, how I both love and despise your teachings.

Looks like I won't be having that false alarm I wanted. I turn, strolling back to the front door, lacking that smile I so dearly hoped to have for myself, passing by a pale-faced Amanda, thrown and crushed under the heavy wheels by the sweet, sweet smirking devil of denial.

"Doesn't look like just rain to me," I muttered, patting her shoulder as I soldiered past her. "Wish you were right though."

Eager, inquiring eyes met the deeper in mine as my steps finally reached back to the warmth and light of the living room. Words weren't even needed to convey what it was that awaited us, both Irene and Adalia got the message loud and clear in the silence I greeted them with.

"Okay, maybe… maybe it's just a thunderstorm, then," Amanda's voice desperately sounded, drawing up to my side at a rapid pace. "I mean… how can the Blight fall twice in such a short time span? Just what are the odds?"

Looking at her, again, it was like a crystal-clear reflection of me, it was almost scary how well she mirrored my initial reaction to all things implausible. Elves, Otherworlds, Legendary lineage, Matriarchs - I asked, what are the odds of that?

Over time I grew to learn to simply not ask questions that you don't want to know the answer to, you're really better off that way… just assuming the worst.

Still… I wouldn't lie and say to myself that I wasn't thinking quite the same too.

"Yes," I said to her. "That lightning and thunder and grey clouds happening out there could just be typical signs of heavy rain approaching. Could be worrying for nothing, we don't know for sure. Let me ask you this though, should we really risk ourselves on a maybe?"

Amanda was a rippling flustering mess of emotions. She's seen what Blightfall does, heard what it could do after it has fallen, but she's never experienced it herself firsthand. That's something that utterly terrified her, and it was plain as day to see in the fear in her eyes.

"Should we leave, then?" She asked quietly, keeping her voice steady. "Get in the car now, try and get out of the Blight's range before it falls?"

"That's what I was thinking," I said, turning my gaze back to the living room. "We should really go now. We'll huddle up, make space… it'll be cramp but - "

Adalia was staring straight at me, moving not an inch from her seat. Irene kept in place as well, shaking her head at every word I said.

I tilted mine in return. "Can't leave?"

"You can't stop the process midway, darling," Irene explained, her tone so filled with sorrow. "I stop now, I can't break it later. It has to be now."

"So… you'll have to stay here, then," I said, scratching my head on impulse. "Adalia, Amanda, and I… we'll leave. You work on breaking the trance, we'll come back when - "

"That's not the only problem though," Irene interjected, her gaze a painful one. "If it Blights, if it starts raining again… it'll only exacerbate the process. Enstar's call, the void… the hold it has on the Elf and Ria, it'll just get tighter, I won't be able to get them out. It has to not rain. That's the only way."

"They should have… broken… out… a long time ago…" Adalia muttered, swaying herself upright, veins more visible than ever before. "You should… have gotten… them free… my sister… you should have…"

"Adalia, I'm trying!" Irene shouted, the trails of crimson exuding from her palms very nearly dissipating. "I can't lose focus. You're making me lose focus. Blaming me isn't going to do anything here."

"You… should have… been…"

"Yes! Okay, I admit it! I'm not as ready as I thought I was! Maybe I am a little tipsy and not all there right now. It's that what you want to hear? There! Happy? Doesn't change the fact that we're here now though, does it? Does it now, Adalia?"

I could see a glint of red flashing in Irene's eyes... Adalia, a quiver in her sharpened fingers. I hastily stepped in, literally, throwing myself in-between them, hands outstretched on either side.

"Adalia, that's enough! Irene, just keep focus, alright?" I said, darting my eyes from left to right, hoping they'd simmer down for a proper chance to think this dilemma through. "It has to not rain… is that what you said?"

Irene's glance at me was a reproachful one, yet her expression was still soft and gentle. "It's an idea… I was thinking. Our weatherman is forcing the Blight to happen, so I thought - "

"We could change the weather ourselves," Amanda muttered from behind, her words conveyed so profound-like. "That's not a bad… that actually could work!"

Don't know how and when Amanda was suddenly so easily grasping the incomprehensible like it was nothing. Just mere moments ago she was freaking the hell out about the impossible, now she was nodding her to it like it was elementary… did I miss something in the past few seconds?

Changing the weather?

"Really now?" I said, very nearly on the verge of disbelieving laughter. "Tell me then, who the hell in here is able to do that?"

Okay.

Remember before when I said I learned to stop asking questions I didn't want to know the answer to?

I don't think I've actually learned my lesson just yet. That question should have been kept behind sealed lips.

Cause I very much did not like the answer I received. Still very much speaking as an advocate.

All eyes were on me again.

Irene's, Amanda's, and Adalia's. Nobody pointed a finger, nobody said a thing, just with a stare alone I could very hear their voices speaking out to me in resounding unison.

"You can."

Murphy's Law strikes again.