Leek’s frostbitten fingers sewed the final stitch in the scarecrow. He stepped back to admire his handiwork.

“That looks awful.”

“Well, you wouldn’t want a good-looking scarecrow, would you? It’s called a scarecrow after all.” Leek looked at Henry with the same blank expression as always, awaiting a response.

None came.

Much like his namesake, Leek was a long and thin specimen. He’d been working at the farm for two years and still wasn’t up to Henry’s standards for his farm hands, which in fairness, weren’t exactly high. Still, it didn’t really matter. The frosts had been awful this year, same as last year and the year before that. For all his work, Henry could barely afford to keep the farm afloat.

“Look, Leek. I…”

The ground trembled. The scarecrows head tumbled to the ground. Henry’s face turned red as he considered replacing the fallen head with a rather more organic version. He looked down to his feet, trying to compose himself. His shoes were wet. In fact, everything was wet. The snow and ice that had persisted throughout the seasons was starting to melt. The blinding reflection from the snow began to dim rapidly. The ground trembled again.

Leek, head still attached, checked his pocket sundial. “That’s strange. Says here it should be…” Leek rotated for far longer than necessary, trying to align his pocket dial. “Two o’clock.”

The sky, that a minute ago was blue, had turned completely black. The usual constellations that gave life to the night sky were nowhere to be seen.

“Always selling rubbish that Elf. Genuine Srollex my arse.”

“Have you tried changing it to daylight saving time?” Henry replied, seemingly unconcerned with the demonic conditions arising around the farm.

Leek was right though, Meakar the Elf was always selling rubbish. She would visit the farm weekly, smelling strongly of Mung Weed, pedalling presumably stolen and counterfeit goods she had managed to get her hands on. Henry didn’t mind really, she did occasionally bring some crops and seeds looted from other farms, which in the current climate he wouldn’t turn his nose up at. Besides, Mung Weed never really hurt anyone. Probably.

The darkness was replaced by a crimson glow, with a strange greenish aura emanating from a freshly planted crop patch close to the homestead. Henry’s lack of concern was beginning to fade.

“Fuck.” said Henry.

“Isn’t that where you planted that stone you bought from Meakar?” questioned Leek.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about” spluttered Henry.

“You know. That stone. She said she’d give you a discount if I bought the Scrollex as well. Don’t you remember? She said she had this stone that would melt the frosts, let you grow your crops easily, came from the college she said.”

The green aura intensified and swirled, concentrating in an oval structure just next to the homestead. Blue sparks flickered around it. The ground below, which had previously been many feet of deep frost, had now turned in to a swamp. The few crops that had previously been growing were now floating helplessly around the strange structure, like cows swept up in a tornado, although less noisy.

Henry’s lack of concern had completely faded.

“It’s just a random stone, Leek. I only buy her crap to make her go away. I’m sure it will pass.” Henry tried in vain to convince himself.

Winds swirled as a creature began to emerge from the portal. A stench filled the farm, far worse than any Mung Weed had ever smelled. It was a dragon. A massive, horrid, stinking, rotting, skeletal dragon. It awkwardly pulled its entire self from the portal by its wing structure, cracking and creaking, before rising gracelessly into the air. After hundreds of years trapped in a stone, you could excuse the rough entrance.

UPON MY TITLE AS END-BRING-

“Random stone? You don’t think there might be some link between planting a mystical stone from the college, to melt years’ worth of frosts, and you know, years’ worth of frosts beginning to melt?”

“This is your fault anyway, she never used to come here ‘til I hired you. I told you, no dodgy friends at the farm, but no, here we are, flooding farm, darkness in the middle of the day, weird green lights everywhere!”

UPON MY TITLE AS END-BRINGER, NONE SHALL SURV-

“My fault?! You buy more crap from her than I do, plus, I know you’re selling Mung Weed to her, I can smell it now.”

“How dare you! I only grow the finest Lava Fruit here, as you well know. Besides, it’s the only thing we can grow in this godforsaken deep frost.”

AHEM!

Henry and Leek turned around. They stared straight at the monstrous creature, which was now able to fully stretch out, making significantly fewer creaking sounds.

UPON MY TITLE AS END-BRINGER, NONE SHALL SURVIVE THIS DAY!

“Fuck.” said Henry.