Ashley swung her scythe, severing the ripe stalks of wheat in smooth wide arcs. Pausing to wipe sweat from her forehead she swept a glance towards the forest that bordered her farm.

The leaves are so pretty this time of year, she thought, a half smile gracing her wrinkled face as the wind blew more deep orange leaves from trees preparing for winter.

Ashley belonged to this farm. She had worked this land for seventy years. Her hair had turned white, her skin a deep brown, under the rays of this sun. Seventy times she had lived through the season when the trees prepared for winter, and seventy times had she witnessed their gorgeous recovery in the spring.

She glanced towards her field. The ripe stalks waved gently in the wind. They moved in unison. Causing mesmerizing ripples to spread across the field. Periodically the ripples would be marred by a clump of grain that swayed slower than the rest; their bountiful harvest weighing down the stalks.

A glint caught the corner of Ashley’s eye. She turned her gaze upwards to behold a strange sight. It took her a moment to even understand what she was looking at. A viridian-colored rock the size of a mountain flew over her farm. A column of black smoke trailing in its wake.

What an unnatural color, she thought idly, looking at the asteroid in confusion. It was completely silent as it passed overhead.

Before she could comprehend what she was seeing, the meteor crashed into the earth not two miles distant.

Ashley fell to her knees as the world shook in utter silence. It was as if all sound was drained from the world as the meteor touched down. Even the gentle rustling of the stalks waving in the wind was silenced.

Ashley clutched her hand which had been sliced open by her fallen scythe and glanced up to the landing site. Fear filled her as a shockwave of distorted air rose impossibly fast from the crash site. Ashley looked on in horror as the centuries old oak tree that her great grandfather had planted was splintered and converted to shrapnel.

Instinct took over, as she fell over, propelling herself away from the calamity. Her knees scraped painfully on the rocky soil. Before she even managed to get to her feet the shockwave caught up with her.

Sound returned. Her neck snapped from whiplash. Her vision went dark. The roaring of the wind overtook all sensations. Then, a jerk. And a crunch.

Ashley jerked awake, sucking in a rattling breath.

“I’m too old for nightmares like that,” she groaned. Or tried to. What came out was a garbled alien screech, which seemed a cross between the clicks of a cricket and the raucous call of a crow. The chittering clicks echoed horribly around her, taking far longer then it seemed it should in order for the sound to fade away.

Ashley jumped, twisting vainly to identify where the sound came from. Around her swirls of iridescent blue-green smoke filled the barren landscape. It billowed, thick and ugly, over everything. She could scarcely make out clearly what she was seeing. In the distance what appeared to be the remains of a black crumbled ruin stood forlornly in the hellscape. Around her, where once there was rich farmland, now everything seemed gray and lifeless. The once verdant soil was replaced by black sand. In slowly growing horror, she realized that the black, crumbled wreck was her home. Burned, broken, devastated. But her home nonetheless. The devastation did not discriminate. The plants were either gone, or in the case for trees remained as blackened husks, bent and creaking in the breeze.

Looking at the wasteland that was once her home, a horrible weakness suffused her limbs. Looking down Ashley saw that her clothes were completely gone, however there was no thought to indecency. Her skin had transformed into a rough black powdery texture with glowing orange veins writhing across the surface steadily pulsing to her heartbeat. Any shapely curves that had survived the ravages of age were gone. In their stead, thick, corded muscles rippled overly prominent bones.

In fascination, the monster went to touch it’s stomach. The transformation had covered it’s arms as well. Where once the monster’s old withered skin struggled valiantly to cover it’s bones, now a stone-like alien carapace grew glistening spikes and razor sharp, eight inch nails.

In shock the monster leaned back, overbalancing. It whiped around one of it’s oversized claws around to catch itself. Still not used to its new body, it’s claws scraped against the monster’s thigh. Instead of rending or tearing the hard carapace, sparks flew from the contact, leaving nought but a trace.

The light from the sparks faded, but with it the monster inhaled deeply. If the monster was human, it may have looked surprised. Yet, the monster was not human so when the breath reached its climax, the monster’s eyes began to glow with the same incandescent fire that pulsed steadily across it’s skin. It’s mouth opened with unrestrained hunger as scarlet saliva dripped from its elongated teeth.

Snapping its neck around, the monster stared into the gloom. It’s glowing eyes shining like spotlights through the gloom. The swirling bluish-green smoke whirled as a sudden wind came from the east, bringing with it the sound of a low moan, and the scent of blood.

The viridian fog rose into the air, carried westward by the prevailing wind. With it came the sulphurous scent of a bleeding land. As the fog rose, the devastation of the land became clear. Yet, somehow distant as the elevation segregated the gently swirling smoke from the ruined farmland so far below it. The wind continued on it’s journey, passing over burned buildings, and broken bodies, leaving behind a single terrified scream, as it single-mindedly continued on it’s journey.

Miles, and years past, as the wind brought the dust from the crater further and further from its birth site. Over hills and through the grey lifeless branches of evergreens. As the wind traveled, and the miles passed, the land healed. Slowly at first, the hardy grass returned, not green as of yet but a stubborn yellow. Then the shrubs returned and soon forests placidly leaned into the gusting of the wind.

The wind continued its journey, by this point losing much of its strength and much of its precious cargo. Then it finally stopped, heaving it’s last breath, over a quaint walled town. The town was built of stone, cobbled streets wound their way in between squat buildings which tried their best to cover the streets from the sky. Between the homes, clotheslines hung, further obscuring the streets. In the center of the town a stone castle arose from the earth, overshadowing the town.

The last of the dust brought over from the accursed meteor fell from the clouds. Weaving in between buildings and into a narrow alleyway. There, the dust landed onto the head of a child.

The child was small. Yet upon closer inspection, the short stubble that coated the child’s face belied his apparent youth. More of a young man than the adolescent he appeared to be. He wore brown oversized rags that hung loosely on his frame barely providing enough warmth to counteract the chill of the early autumn air. Perhaps the most remarkable thing about this homeless child was his hair. While most children have black or brown hair, this child had true silver hair whose metallic luster reflected the light that streamed in through the gap between the houses. Hazel eyes peaked out from underneath the reflective locks.

The child looked up getting a puff of dust in the face for his trouble. Sneezing, he looked back down at an amulet clutched firmly in his right hand. The amulet was made of tarnished bronze. It was of the style that could be opened and an image of a loved one stored inside. Carved into the face of the locket was a stylized eye whose pupil was marred by a vertical gash slicing right down the center of the engraving.

“Today’s the day,” whispered the boy to the blind eye. “Wish me luck.”

Looking out of the alleyway, the boy saw plenty of people standing facing towards the center of the road so that the boy only saw the backs of the townspeople. These people had been standing here since morning, but only now was the crowd waking up, starting to cheer as a procession of young children walked down the center of the aisle formed by the adults.

The boy sitting in the alley stood up. Taking one last look at the blind eye. He tucked the amulet into his pocket and turned to face the crowd. Surreptitiously, he weaved in between the proud parents and joined the procession.