What Cass called rain felt more like standing under a waterfall. Sheets of water crashed down in relentless waves, the forest canopy doing little to muffle the deafening roar. The rain was so heavy it blurred the edges of everything, turning the world into a gray haze. The path beneath our feet had transformed into a shallow river, the water flowing furiously in front of us as it searched for a way downhill.

Red didn’t seem to mind in the slightest. Despite being drenched, he darted back and forth through the water with a play-bow, his paws splashing so enthusiastically that it felt intentional. Every few seconds, he sent a spray directly at me or Cass, his wagging tail betraying his glee.

We moved fast. Cass tore through the downpour effortlessly, her movements sure and fluid, as if the water and mud weren’t even there. Something about her felt different—runic, almost—but I couldn’t quite place it. I could sense something faintly emanating from her, like the edges of a rune I didn’t fully understand. Grace seemed like the right idea, but that wasn’t it. Whatever it was, it carried her forward with unrelenting ease, while I struggled to keep my footing in the rushing water.

The rain only intensified as we neared a narrow stone bridge spanning a swollen river. The rapids churned violently, brown water crashing maybe fifteen meters below the heavy stone arches. The bridge itself was sturdy, built for storms like this, with thick chest-high walls on either side. Gaps in the masonry, one brick missing every meter or so, allowed the waist-deep water pooling on the bridge to drain into the torrent below. Even so, it was barely keeping up.

Cass reached the bridge first, her silhouette almost disappearing into the curtain of rain. I forced myself to focus, the roar of the river and the downpour threatening to drown out my thoughts. Red barked once, bounding ahead, and I had to push harder to keep up.

I realized something about my Bravery aura: even with my sight reduced to the wall of rain and my hearing drowned out by the storm, my awareness wasn’t diminished. Anything beyond ten meters was just rain and noise, but Bravery seemed completely unimpressed by the sensory overload. It was like a sixth sense, cutting through the chaos and keeping me grounded. Spreading the feeling out further than ten meters seemed to consume some mana but I knew Cass was around twenty meters ahead, her movements steady despite the downpour. Red, meanwhile, was doggy paddling through the waterlogged bridge behind her, his determination almost comical.

There was something about him that felt oddly intelligent—like he wasn’t just any dog but one who’d seen more storms than most people. He moved through the terrain with an ease that belied his waterlogged fur, navigating the flooded bridge like it was second nature.

“I guess local dogs are pretty used to this,” I muttered to him as I caught up, giving the swimming dog a bit of a push forward as we slogged through the water together.

The end of the bridge brought little relief. The landscape ahead rose steeply, and the road had become a rushing stream, the rainwater surging downhill in relentless rapids. For a moment, I was sure all three of us sighed at the exact same time before trudging forward, bracing ourselves for the uphill climb against the current.

Cass had to double back on us a few times to check in. I was positive that Red could climb faster but he insisted on staying behind with me as I struggled up the terrain, even losing my footing a few times. The water was getting deeper and the current was against us, almost as if the road was fighting back. Running for well over two hours was taking its toll on me, making me fully aware of a gap in our stamina.

“Put everything you’ve got into your legs. We might have to stop in Rainhaven just up this way,” She was practically yelling over the rain that seemed to be getting heavier rather than lighter. “It hasn’t rained this hard in a long time!”

Normally it was pretty natural to use mana to stick to the ground, I’d done it a few times. But the stone beneath the water seemed to resist the effort. Reaching down, I pulled my shoes off and stored them in my earring. My bare feet seemed to stick so much more effectively than when I had shoes on.

Great, I’m a hobbit. What’s next, furry feet? A gold ring? Ooh—Second breakfast?

I thought to myself amusedly and I could sense that Cass was laughing at me through the rain. She wasn’t laughing long, though, as I sped past her and we set a much faster pace than before. My lack of shoes seemed to increase the efficacy of my mana-infused feet.

We heard Rainhaven before we saw it. A deep strumming rose above the constant roar of rain, blending with the patter of water cascading through the trees. Lantern orbs, strung on cords between branches, cast a dim, flickering glow that fought against the gray.

The village emerged from the storm like a mirage, nestled among towering trees that felt as old as the earth itself. Stone cottages with moss-covered roofs and pagoda-like structures seemed to grow naturally from the forest, their eaves channeling streams of rainwater into carved paths. At the center, a single spire rose above the buildings, its Gothic frame softened by ivy.

The paths through the village were rivers, cobblestones barely visible beneath the rushing water. Lantern orbs swayed in cages, and small rivulets carved trails between buildings, pooling at their bases. Everything here seemed designed to embrace the rain, channeling its flow away from harm. Even the storm’s roar was dulled by the dense canopy above.

Six large, covered wagons were parked beneath a sprawling tangle of leaves at the village’s outskirts. Sentarian drivers sat motionless in meditation in their seats, water streaming from their drenched clothes as though it didn’t bother them in the slightest.

“Rainhaven seems pretty accurate,” I said, catching up to Cass.

Nearby, an Aldertree man sat among the wagons, bronze skin gleaming as the rain ran off him in rivulets. He strummed a melody on a guzheng balanced in his lap, its sound resonating through the downpour like a voice carried on the wind. He played with an ease that suggested he’d happily sit here all day, strumming away.

“Lady Cassandra!” he called out as he stopped playing, clearly thrilled to see her. “We were hoping you’d pass through on your way home. Jake’s at the hall—the road’s flooded, and there’ve been monster sightings.”

Cass’s demeanor flipped like a switch. Gone was the tired, slightly buzzed hunter. In her place was someone razor-focused, already scanning the path ahead. Without a word, she motioned for me to follow, then took off sprinting toward the heart of the village. I nodded to the man and followed her.

Her speed left me no hope of keeping up, but I pushed forward as best I could, Red bounding alongside me. By the time I reached the chapel, Cass had already disappeared inside.

The building was a hybrid of a community hall and a command center. Benches had been shoved aside or turned into makeshift shelves for stacks of wooden slips tied with string. The slips were etched with crude maps, some marked with red-inked circles and the word Monster written in bold strokes. Several lantern orbs hung from the walls casting a bright light across the room, making it almost too bright after such a gray afternoon.

On a raised stage at the far end, three Aldertrees—two men and a woman—were huddled around a table, locked in what sounded like an argument.

“I don’t care, Jacob,” the woman snapped, her voice sharp but light, with a hint of a cockney accent that reminded me of Diana. “If the road’s blocked, that water has to go somewhere else. If we don’t unblock it, we’ll have bigger problems than monster sightings.”

“We can’t,” one of the men—Jacob, presumably—replied. “That was an Arbortrux out there, Elizabeth. Class E. We need someone from the Tower.”

“Class E?” Cass interrupted, striding up to the stage. “I’ll need a sword.”

The three turned to her, relief plain on their faces. The woman—Elizabeth—spoke first. “Lady Cass, thank the roots. Who’s this?” Her sharp, amber eyes flicked to me and Red.

Cass didn’t even pause. “He’s the one I told you about. Ben from Earth and the Breaker. Oh, and get this—Nana’s first apprentice, Katie’s new boy, and he’s got a familiar named Red.”

“I’m not Katie’s—“ I tried to interrupt but Cass shushed me.

“He says it’s a dog, which is apparently like a mix between a fox and a wolf. Oh, and Erik thinks he’s a Guardian.”

“He’s not a familiar!” I barked and Red wagged his tail excitedly.

“And this morning he almost died taking a Class D healing pill after they sparred, turns out he’s got a healing affinity.”

Her words spilled out like she was sharing gossip over drinks, and I blinked, completely blindsided by how much information she’d just dumped.

“Fuck me,” one of the men muttered—he had older, weathered features. “You’ve had a busy day.”

“Hi,” I said, my voice flat, awkward under the sudden weight of everyone’s attention.

“Ben, these are my best friends Jake and Elizabeth Aldertree. That’s Edward their… uncle?” Cass said, gesturing to each of them. “Fellow strikers, we may have told them a lot about you. They’re related to Felix.”

“Ha! Like sixth cousins.” Jake said.

He had the same sharp features as Felix, but younger, with a more casual demeanor. Edward, older and bald, had a quiet authority about him. Elizabeth was striking—her blue and green hair seemed to float around her, and her amber eyes gave her an almost ethereal quality, even by Floran standards.

Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

Before I could think of anything else to say, Red chose that exact moment to shake himself dry. Water flew in every direction, soaking the already-damp room.

“Ugh, c’mon, man! Who brought the dog?” I grumbled, wringing water out of my shirt as the Aldertrees dodged the spray.

Elizabeth wiped a droplet from her cheek with exaggerated care. “Well, he’s charming,” she said, deadpan.

“Don’t encourage him,” I muttered, shooting Red a side-eye as he grinned up at me, his tongue lolling out. His damp, puffed-up fur made him look absolutely ridiculous. Cass just grinned back at me, clearly enjoying herself.

“He’s not a familiar,” I continued. “I just met him, and he’s only following me because I give him food.”

“Sounds like a familiar to me,” Jake chimed in, leaning against the table. “Didn’t Nana try to get rid of Stanley for ages before she caved? You don’t pick them—they pick you.”

The others nodded in agreement, and I looked down at Red again. He was still panting, his tail wagging furiously.

“That’s fair enough, I guess,” I said, giving in and scratching behind his ears. Red leaned into the affection, clearly pleased. Pet or Familiar, was there a difference? “So, what’s an Arbortrux?”

Cass answered first, the memory of the reading table still fresh. “The one Erik showed us with the big tail. They’re not usually this close to the city.”

“Short arms, giant claws, goofy face?” I asked, recalling a rat-like creature. The four of them nodded in unison. “Got it. So what’s up with the road?”

Elizabeth blinked, clearly surprised by my shift in focus. Her usual deadpan expression softened just a little. “Something’s blocking an aqueduct two kilometers out of town, flooding the road. Are you not more worried about the monster?”

I glanced at Cass and caught her smiling at me—not her usual smirk, but a genuine smile. It was a moment where we didn’t need words. There was a problem, and we could help fix it. For a village I didn’t know and people I’d just met. It couldn’t be worse than a bus-sized crab, right?

“So, the road’s the bigger problem?” I asked.

“It is,” Elizabeth confirmed. “The dammed-up water will flood monster and mana beast dens in the valley, forcing them out into the night. That means more monsters, fewer food sources, and chaos.”

Jake nodded. “We can clear the blockage, but we can’t fight an Arbortrux, not with our supplies running this low. We’ve got limited weapons and gadgets. We weren’t expecting rain this soon.”

“Gadgets?” I repeated, blinking at the word. It caught me off guard, making me think of spy gadgets or old Bond movies. Cass must have noticed my confusion.

“Stuff for Strikers,” she explained. “Until we get our seals, we rely on techno-magic. It levels the playing field when we’re not as strong as full Hunters.”

Elizabeth slid two wooden boxes onto the table and opened them. Inside the first box were thin metal rods with blackened runes etched into their surface. The second box held a set of three shiny metal discs, each with a hole in the center, their surfaces gleaming like old CDs.

“Shock spikes,” Elizabeth said, gesturing to the rods. “Felix made them before he… well, before. They’re blue-tier. Useful for disabling monsters. The discs are mana traps—red-tier.”

I picked up one of the spikes and felt its surprising weight. It was wickedly sharp, like a long, heavy nail with a small, flat head about the size of a blue coin.

“They vaporize on use,” Cass added with a laugh, “but they’re great for big hits. You just press a coin into the end, stab a monster, and let go. Oh, and careful—they’ll zap you too if you’re not paying attention. Trust me on that.”

She grinned as she added, “And a sword. Two, if we have them.”

Edward turned to me. “Does your friend need anything, or is he like Felix?”

Cass cut in before I could answer. “Erik got him a spear,” she said with a quick glance my way. “Which I forgot to tell you about!”

The room turned its collective gaze on me, and I felt like a fish out of water. The case was so light I had completely forgotten about the strap going across my chest. I guess it was a spear, and I had no idea how to use it.

Sure, I’d seen my Aapo practice with a spear a handful of times, but my own knowledge barely extended beyond “stick the pointy end in the target.” I nodded awkwardly, keeping my mouth shut.

Jake leaned on the table, his tone calm and matter-of-fact. “We’ll handle digging out the blockage. But if an Arbortrux shows up, we’ll need Hunters. Anything else you need?”

“I don’t suppose you have a full set of armor?” Cass asked. The trio smirked in unison, sarcasm practically radiating off them.

“Yeah, didn’t think so,” she muttered.

“Wait, I do,” I interjected, shooting Cass a pointed look. Her eyebrows shot up.

“Oh yeah! You should put it on once we’ve confirmed the monsters,” she said casually.

“Why not now? C’mon!” I pleaded, excitement bubbling up. I hadn’t even gotten to try it on yet. “What’s the big fuss? I can just put it on now.”

“You’ll want to wait until we have a monster confirmed,” Elizabeth said firmly, her tone leaving no room for debate.

I frowned, relenting. Why did everyone here have such an aversion to armor? It couldn’t be that heavy, and the mana penalties couldn’t be that bad, could they?

“Everything we have is here,” Jake said with a smile, motioning toward the room. “Dry clothes, food, and mana pearls if you need.”

At the mention of food and mana, my stomach fluttered—a strange, almost instinctual reaction. Hunger gnawed at me, sharp and insistent. And mana… well, that was something else entirely. I’d developed a craving for it, a need that I still didn’t fully understand. The thought of it settled something deep inside me, as if my body recognized how strange it was but didn’t care.

The handful of mana pearls Ronald had given me had pushed my reserves higher than they’d ever been, a feeling I was growing dangerously fond of.

“Food sounds good,” I said, and Red’s tail wagged in agreement. Edward retrieved some cheese and sausages from a cupboard at the back of the chapel and handed them out. Red gave the sausage a sniff but seemed less than enthused. The cheese, however, caught his attention immediately.

Chuckling, I tossed him a piece. He snatched it out of the air with a sharp snap, swallowing it whole. There was no way he even tasted it. When I glanced back at Cass and the others, they were all staring at me with varying degrees of disdain.

“Dogs are food-motivated,” I said, shrugging as if that explained everything.

“Yeah, and he’s not your familiar,” Cass shot back, marching up to me with her mouth full of food. She reared back, clearly intending to punch me in the shoulder—because of course she would.

Bravery warned me. Experimentally, I pushed as much mana as I could into my shoulder on a whim. Her fist connected, but I barely felt it. Cass, on the other hand, recoiled, shaking her hand out like she’d just punched a wall. So that was how Erik took a solid bamboo spear to the chest?

“Fucking ow, really?” she exclaimed, glaring at me. Cracking her knuckles, she grinned mischievously. “Oh, I know this game.”

“Lady Cass!” Jake called out, but I was already stepping back, leaning out of the way as Cass threw another punch. This time, the air popped audibly, and a bench ahead of her blew over with a loud crack from a small shock wave.

It was like a smaller-scale version of what I’d seen Chas do when he fought the Glids. I hadn’t actually seen Cass do much fighting but her strength wasn’t surprising. Even without Bravery, I could tell that if that punch had landed, no amount of mana reinforcement would have saved me from a bruised arm.

“He dodged it?!” Jake whooped, laughing as even Cass looked momentarily stunned. Her expression shifted from surprise to something almost impressed, and she lowered her arm.

“I guess I haven’t explained much about my Bravery spell,” I said to Cass, still figuring it out myself. “It lets me sense things around me. Like, for example, how Red is currently eating all of your cheese.”

All heads turned toward the large table at the back of the room, where Red had somehow managed to slip unnoticed. He was crouched beneath the table, a wheel of cheese between his paws, looking like a guilty child caught red-handed. He spat out a half-chewed chunk, his eyes wide and full of regret—or at least his best attempt at it. The dog was fast.

For a moment, we all just stared at him.

I approached cautiously. Red might have been friendly, but a new dog was still a new dog. Crouching down, I reached under the table to retrieve the cheese, keeping one eye on him in case he decided to channel his inner wolf.

He didn’t, of course. Not even a twitch of his lip—just a pitiful, wide-eyed stare like I’d crushed his dreams by taking the cheese away.

“Well, finish what you were eating,” I muttered, and Red happily chomped down on the remaining chunks, chewing with loud smacking noises.

“Sorry about that,” I said, placing the salvaged cheese wheel back on the table. When I straightened, all four of them—Elizabeth, Cass, Jake, and Edward—were staring at me like I’d just declared myself the Emperor of La-Roc.

“He’s really weird,” Elizabeth said, nudging Cass with her elbow and nodding in my direction.

“Oh, you have no idea,” Cass replied with a smirk. “The familiar’s new. It’s like the second he stops baking, crazy shit happens. I mean, I saw him smooth-talk Cyrus into giving up sweets. Which reminds me, the… uh, brownies…”

Her gaze flicked to me, and there was something unsettlingly feral in her expression.

“Oh!” I blurted, remembering. I reached into my earring and pulled out the mostly full tray I had made earlier. “Wow, they’re still warm.”

The three Florans practically shoved Cass aside as they sniffed the air like sharks catching the scent of blood.

“Graceful Gods, is that cocoa?” Edward asked, his stern, older demeanor replaced by the wonder of a kid on Christmas morning.

“Yeah, it’s the least I can do after Red devoured that much cheese,” I said, setting the tray down. I pointed to the dog, who had poked his head out from under the table at the smell. “And none for you, Red. Chocolate is bad for dogs.”

Red huffed dramatically, retreating under the table, where I could hear him licking the floor for stray crumbs.

The Florans wasted no time. Grabbing chunks of brownie with bare hands, their reactions were immediate—wide-eyed joy, though Edward’s was by far the most intense.

“Fuck me,” he laughed. “The Vildar would conquer cities for this.”

Cass elbowed her way back in to grab a piece. “What the fuck Ben, this is half eaten!”

I grinned at her and shrugged. While we were drinking the sevenfold liquor, I secretly discovered I could essentially ‘eat’ food stored in my earring with very little effort. Rather than imagining I was picking it up, I simply imagined that I was taking a bite. The snacking ramifications were immense, drinking was more difficult as quantity was hard to estimate, but small enough sips were manageable. The fact that it took quite a bit more mana sucked, but I had a few extra mana pearls now.

“So, Bravery’s an aura spell, huh?” She asked, mouth half full.

“I wasn’t sure if you’d know the term,” I replied. “Something like that. It’s more instinctual than just seeing everything around me.”

She raised a hand behind her back. “What finger am I holding up?”

I flipped her off without missing a beat. “Don’t need a sixth sense to figure that out.”

Cass grinned, flipping me off in return. “Oooh, so impressive.” Her exaggerated tone eliciting a chuckle from me.

“What’s that mean?” Elizabeth asked, her head tilting in confusion. I’d forgotten I’d taught Cass that particular gesture.

“It means ‘fuck you,’” Cass said, holding her finger up to Elizabeth now. “Earth uses it when someone can’t hear you. Practically all humans know it.”

Elizabeth mimicked the motion, giggling. “Oh, is this like that word you taught me? Cun—”

“Okay!” I cut in, already knowing where that was headed. “I can’t tell what finger you’re holding up, Cass, but I knew it was just one. Make sense?”

Cass didn’t reply, strolling over to a bench and chewing on the last of her brownie. She wiped her hands on her pants, picked up one of the heavy wooden slips lying there, and hurled it at me with alarming precision.

Bravery barely had time to register the threat. Instinct took over, and I sidestepped, catching the slip with a painful slap. Setting it down on the table, I turned back to see Cass grinning like a cat about to pounce.

“Hey, Jake, get me those swords,” she said, but the Florans just laughed.

“Whoa, nope!” I interjected quickly. “I’m still way too slow. Erik’s got speed I can’t match yet—I need way more practice.”

“Oh?” she replied, and I barely had time to register the way Bravery shuddered in my mind before she moved. It was like she teleported.

Instinct made me lean back just in time to dodge what I thought was a head-on punch. Unfortunately, it was a fake, and my groin met an impossibly fast backhand. At the last second I thought to shove all my mana into that area but I was too slow.

Pain exploded through my body, and I dropped to my knees, clutching at myself as Red darted out from under the table to sniff at me like I’d been hiding treats.

“Who do you think taught Erik how to be fast?” Cass said smugly, crossing her arms. “And I’ve got brothers all with the same weak spot. Don’t think I haven’t perfected the attack—Erik can almost dodge it.”

“Why?” I croaked, doubling over as the pain radiated through me.