Strange weather phenomena appeared around a small rural village for weeks without end. It had been nearly a month since thunderstorms kept the village indoors and a half month more since colorful flashes of light darted through the sky. If this continues for another week the families will have to resort to eating calves and piglets, which would hurt the village immensely.
Lighting flashed as four colored lights danced in the darkened sky, white flashes briefly outshining the blue, red, green and orange lights. Suddenly, the lights collided and colorful rays illuminated the land as if it were day. After a few seconds the light died down and the orange light had disappeared.
On the outskirts of the rural village a dark meteor smashed into a short hill, blowing off the top and crashing into flooded farmland. A thin figure leapt from the rapidly flooding crater and disappeared into the darkness. The remaining blue, red and green lights shot off into different directions, leaving the skies dark.
A frail old man walked out into the rain to check the noise, using a shovel as a walking stick. He and his wife heard an awfully loud explosion nearby and he had to make sure it was safe.
"Is it okay out there honey?" The aged voice of an old woman sounded from inside the wooden house.
"It looks okay darling," the old man called back as he waved a candle from the safety of his porch. "It just looks like lightning hit the top of our picnic hill is all."
The old man started to turn around but a creaking of the front porch caught his attention. A hand emerged from the darkness and was pressing down on the floor boards. The sight nearly gave him a heart attack.
"Come back in sweetie! You'll catch a cold standing out there like that. We can check out the damage when the storm is over. If we don't have to eat Velma next week we can sell her and have a picnic on the hill again." The sweet old voice was met with silence.
"George? Are you coming back in?" After another period of silence, a head full of white hairs poked out from the open door. The old woman saw her husband stand with mouth agape as a wiry figure pulled itself onto the porch before laying flat.
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"What's wrong with you George? Help the poor boy in!" The old woman slapped George on the hip to get him moving. After getting over his shock, he moved to drag the naked youth into the house, setting down the shovel and candle.
"Dangit Darla, you know my back isn't any good when I have to hunch over like this," George muttered as he worked on getting the youth's arms into place to be dragged.
"Don't drag him like that! You'll get his back full of splinters!" Darla snapped. George continued to mutter on his way inside when the youth let out a sound. Darla and George both got closer to make out what the youth was trying to say.
"Hide... me..." A hoarse croak came from the boy's pale lips, before he stilled. Morning rose by the time his eyelids began to flutter.
"Morning sonny. You must have had a real hard time last night, considering you washed up to my doorstep." George said, smoking what smelled like tobacco from a pipe. The youth shot up, quickly examining the unfamiliar surroundings.
"I'm going to lose my memory within two days," the youth said. "Bring your wife, I'll explain everything."
The wiry youth to stories until the sun fell, shocking the old couple with every sentence. He explained to them a world beyond their imagination and gave them a superficial understanding of what it meant to be a cultivator. The youth asked them for protection, to cover his story so that nobody suspected him, even though he could give nothing in return.
"Charlie," George whispered, "your name is Charlie now. You're a Fullerson, our grandkid. Got caught up in the storm, robbed, and lost most of your memory. Ain't too far from the truth either. We'll make sure you get back to where you belong. We'll be here when you wake up."
Charlie nodded when he heard George's determination. Darla's eyes were sparkling as she stared at Charlie.
"A grandson! Ah, Geroge, honey, we're going to be grandparents! And our grandson is so strong and smart too!" Darla could hardly contain herself as she rushed over to Charlie and gave him a hug.
"I'm sorry, uh, grandma," Charlie interrupted, "But I won't be very strong. And I won't be smart either. If anything, I'll be dumber than a child. I'm sorry to place the burden on you like this, I can't give you anything in return. The next time i wake up the only thing I'll be able to remember is your names. Please take good care of me." The sparkle faded from Darla's eyes, but she hadn't let go of Charlie.
"It's okay Charlie. We'll take care of you. Even if you can hardly take care of yourself, we'll take care of you. You just go to sleep and we'll be your grandparents when you wake up. We'll tell you about your mother and father and it'll be just like we're a real family." Darla said, patting Charlie on the back. George stood up and put Charlie's arm around his shoulder, helping the wiry youth to the old couple's bed.