“So, this is the Kingdom of Rain. Kind of rainy isn't it?” Stenson and Fox glared at Ivan through the thousands of water drops crashing around them.
“What?” he said, opening his mouth to drink the pouring rain.
“Come on, let's find this woman and be on our way.” Fox nodded to Stenson, and he took the lead.
It had been years since Stenson had been in his family's kingdom. He never understood why his mother had run away, but after seeing his father in the palace, stealing the one thing that mattered most, he could see her reasoning.
Whatever darkness his father was into, Stenson would end it.
Arched by massive ancient willows dripping with bright red flowers, the dirt pathway curved deep within the valley where the rain pooled into a river. The village ahead was small compared to most, and the villagers kept to themselves, hiding in their huts and peeking through windows covered by the frailest of fabric.
As the trio trotted by, Stenson sensed eyes watching them. He turned left and right but saw no one.
He remembered his aunt's house because part of it had been carved out of a gigantic tree. It sat at the end of the path, glowing lights sparkling the cobbled stone path leading to the front door.
“This is it,” Stenson said while stepping off his mecha.
He approached the door, raised his hand to knock, then lowered it.
What if Aunt May didn't remember him, or what if she didn't live here anymore?
He had been five when he lived in the Kingdom of Rain. That was over twelve years ago. Did he even look the same?
But Autumn was in danger; nothing else mattered. He had to try.
He knocked on the rickety wooden door, his hand trembling with nerves. “Aunt May. It's Stenson, your nephew.”
A small woman with cautious eyes creaked the door open. Her auburn hair hung wildly around her round face, and the wrinkles around her eyes crinkled as she squinted at the trio.
“Stenson?” She glared at him, unsure of his proclamation.
Stenson lowered his hood. “Yes, Aunt May, it's me. Laurie's son.”
She opened the door, her eyes widening, a smile forming on her thin lips. “Oh, my dear boy. It is you! Come, come in.” She ushered the three travelers inside.
For a home half in a tree, it was rather large and cozy.
Candlelight from lanterns around the room added an ethereal warm glow. Beige and brown animal furs covered the floor by an area with a low log table adorned in lace doilies. Wooden shelves stuffed with odd trinkets and drying herbs filled the surrounding walls.
Ivan shook the water off his body like a hound, and Fox slapped his chest. The two stood near the entrance, trying not to trample mud and water throughout the home.
Aunt May hugged Stenson with all the muster a woman of her size could. “It is good to see you, my boy. How is my sister?”
Stenson stiffened at the mention of his deceased mother.
“What's wrong, dear?” Aunt May held on to his arms, searching his face for answers. “Is she all right? I haven't heard word from her in months.”
Stenson stepped back and touched Aunt May's arms gently. “Mother passed. She fell ill.”
Aunt May clutched her chest. Her eyes watered, and she leaned against the wall.
“But that's not why I came. I need your help.” Before Aunt May could fall into sorrow, Stenson grabbed her hands, keeping the woman steady. “Do you know anything about my father?”