Corruption summoned his army of twisted monsters lurking in the nearby forest. Having invested a significant portion of his magic into corrupting the adjacent trees, he ensured the Forest Spirit couldn’t wield healthy trees against him. The massive roots of these now tainted trees groaned and snapped as they uprooted, advancing menacingly toward the group of sprites and spirits. Frowning, Corruption noted the absence of the wolf pack he’d corrupted days earlier. Shaking it off, he dismissed the concern, confident in the abundance of corrupted animals at his disposal. He’d had all spring to build his army. The corrupt creatures emerged from the encircling forest, their mindless snarls and glowing eyes filling the gloom. The sprites braced themselves for the impending confrontation. The wizard stood, his eyes wide behind his spectacles as he watched the approaching monsters.

Corruption extended his dark tendrils, shadows twisting through the air like predatory serpents. They lashed out with brutal precision, ensnaring the leg of a weaker corrupted beast that was lagging behind the others. The creature let out a guttural shriek, its eyes wide with terror, as it was dragged inexorably toward its master.

The shadows coiled tighter, fracturing bone with audible snaps and tearing through flesh. The monster’s futile struggles only seemed to excite Corruption, its fear palpable and intoxicating. He could feel the frantic pulse of its panicked heart, the rapid, shallow breaths as its life ebbed away.

With a cruel, sadistic smile, Corruption leaned in, his form looming over the helpless prey. He began to siphon its magic, an agonizing process that caused the creature to convulse violently. Its flesh shriveled and blackened, veins standing out like dark, twisted roots as the life force was drained from its body. Corruption’s own injuries began to mend, the searing wounds from the dragon’s fire regenerating as he fed on the creature’s magic. As the last vestiges of life left the creature, it disappeared into dust, as if it had never existed in the first place. Corruption loomed over the spot where the creature had been seconds before, shadows writhing around him, his eyes glowing with a sinister light. He relished the sense of renewed power as chaos unfolded in the manor’s courtyard.

The dragon began working on the corrupt trees, as did the Forest Spirit, her rage evident as she put down her own children. There was a hint of sadness behind her anger as she watched many of them burn, screaming otherworldly shrieks as they died.

But Corruption wasn’t finished. The nightmare was only beginning, and he needed the River Spirit to unleash her torrents once more. He materialized in front of the manor again, stepping in front of the hole in the wall caused by the flames. After a quick inspection of the damage, he nodded in satisfaction. This hole didn’t lead onto the main floor of the manor, but deeper into the foundation. He drew the attention of the River Spirit, giving her a wry smile.

“You really think a little bit of water is going to hurt me? You’ve grown soft, sister,” he taunted, allowing his smile to widen. There was something about the female nature spirits that made them quick to anger, and this moment proved no exception. Without hesitation, another torrent crashed down, and Corruption barely melded into the shadows in time to avoid the blast. The water cascaded, flowing into the wall and disappearing into the darkness below. Satisfaction gleamed in Corruption’s eyes as he watched as a massive amount of water and wrath drained downward. He reappeared to the left, then again to the right, goading his sister into unleashing an ocean into the ruined foundation. After a few moments, it was over, and the River Spirit seemed content with the damage done. She’d destroyed the wall, not giving a second thought to the manor or anyone who might be inside.

The lynx, now covered in the black ichor of corrupt creature blood, appeared beside the River Spirit seconds later, reverting to her sprite form. “Did you get Corruption?” she asked the spirit, who nodded confidently.

Fools.

The sprite’s expression shifted to concern as she approached what was left of the wall to examine the damage. “Where did all that water go?”

The River Spirit shrugged again, her gaze fixed on the shadows, seemingly anticipating Corruption’s reappearance. Hidden within the darkness, he stifled laughter as he observed the duo.

“Isn’t... isn’t the dungeon down there?” the sprite asked, her voice tinged with rising panic.

The River Spirit redirected her attention to the manor, shock evident in her watery features.

“Matt’s supposed to be down there... how much water do you think got into the dungeon?” the sprite asked, turning slowly to the River Spirit.

Corruption reveled in the horror that spread across both their faces at the realization of what had just transpired. The farmer was surely dead by now, or he would be in the next few short minutes. Corruption was about to leap through the shadows to sow more chaos when something massive grabbed him and closed around his throat, squeezing tightly. Wicked claws dug into Corruption’s neck, causing him to flail, wide-eyed in astonishment.

Could it be the dragon? He’d lost track of it while taunting the River Spirit.

Corruption tried to wriggle free, and he managed to glance at what had ensnared him. His eyes locked onto his captor as the grip tightened around his throat. A familiar grizzly bear met his gaze with a glare consisting of one green eye and one purple eye. It was that sprite he’d corrupted before. Corruption assumed he had died long ago.

“How is this possible?” Corruption spat, straining against the bear’s vice-like hold. He focused his magic, tried to infiltrate the sprite’s mind and turn him back into his puppet, but the magic broke like glass upon an iron shell. The sprite resisted him, somehow, and that terrified him more than anything on Etheria.

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The bear slammed Corruption to the ground, the beast’s claws digging into his shoulders. With immense strength, he chomped on Corruption’s arm between his elbow and shoulder with stout, jagged teeth. Inky blood spilled out, a revelation to Corruption about his own being. He’d never bled before. Nothing had ever made him bleed. Corruption wailed in pain as more black ichor sprayed over him and the bear. The bear tossed Corruption’s severed arm, only to grab the other in his jaws. Yanking and twisting, the appendage was ripped free, the sinews breaking at the shoulder as corrupt muscle and bone was rent beneath the bear’s mighty fangs. Then, it leveled an eerily calm gaze at Corruption.

“I think you’ve wrought enough discord for one night,” the sprite-animal growled, his claws digging deeper into Corruption’s chest. The bear leaned in close, black blood dripping from his teeth. “You have no more power over me. I’m stronger than you, now. But I’m not going to kill you. I think you’ll soon find there are worse things than death.”

“Woods! Woods!” the female sprite ran over to the hulking bear, panic in her voice. “The dungeon’s flooded and Matt’s still down there!”

***

It had started with a single, distant crash. The whole manor trembled above me. Dust fell from the ceiling, and it seemed the entire building was going to collapse in on itself. I strained my ears but didn’t hear anything else for a few minutes. Then, water began to flow into the dungeon.

Initially, it was a mere trickle, a few droplets cascading into a distant puddle. Then, the dripping increased into a steady stream. Excitement coursed through me at the promise of relief for my thirst—I guessed I had been without water for about a day and a half now. My excitement shifted to concern as the flow showed no sign of stopping. The steady stream soon became relentless, growing louder as water sprayed into the dungeon from above. It surged from the darkness, at times resembling a pressurized torrent. I swallowed hard, my parched throat yearning for the taste of water. A puddle moved slowly toward me, its shiny surface inching closer with every passing second. I crinkled my nose. Was I desperate enough to drink from an unknown source off of a dungeon floor? Within seconds, the edge of the puddle reached me.

Standing, I felt lightheaded as the water saturated my boots, eventually enveloping the entire floor of my prison cell. It was alarming how fast the water level was rising. I strained my memory for any recollection of a water source near the Baron’s mansion, but the volume now present seemed impossible. It was as if a small lake had suddenly drained into the dungeon, and I couldn’t recall any water source that large near the property. The water had climbed to my ankles, seeping through my boots and saturating my socks. Squinting into the darkness above, I struggled to see the source of the stream. Has a pipe burst or something? Should I let the Baron know he needs to call a plumber? Do they have plumbers in this world?

The water level passed my work boots, its icy embrace soaking my shins. I swallowed with some difficulty, still parched, but wary of the dark water now covering the dungeon floor.

After a few short minutes, the water had risen to my knees, and I felt my stomach knot. My ankle was still chained to the wall, so if the level somehow rose past my head, I would drown down here. Still, the stream didn’t relent as it filled the dungeon. Even if I wasn’t tethered to the wall, my hands were still bound together, and I wasn’t exactly a strong swimmer. Plus, I was stuck in this cell, and the staircase was on the other side of the dungeon. Water covered the bottom third of the steps, slowly overtaking each one. To my relief, the water began to slow, then it miraculously stopped, only a few droplets dripping from above.

I sighed, relieved. Maybe it had just been a fluke event. The water was past my knees, but not quite to my waist. I was grateful for this, as that was usually the worst part to get wet when the water was frigid like this. Still, it was uncomfortable to slosh around in, and I wondered if the Baron was aware that he would have quite the insurance claim on his hands.

I heard muffled noises just outside the distant wall, but the sounds were lost in the echoing slosh of water reverberating throughout the dungeon. I shifted from foot to foot, unsure of what to do now that my prison cell was flooded. Do I try to tell someone? Call for help?

Dread filled me as another torrent burst from the darkness above, the sounds of rushing water filling the dungeon once more. The water level began rising quickly again, and I swore as it enveloped my waist. Definitely the worst part to dip in icy-cold water.

“What’s going on?” I said aloud, pulling at the chain secured around my ankle. It remained frustratingly strong, keeping me firmly tethered to the wall. The cold water seemed to freeze my lower half, slowing my movements against the unyielding chain. It felt as though a million icy needles were piercing my legs, and only when I heard the sound of teeth chattering did I realize I was shivering.

I felt my heartbeat speed up as the water continued to gush into the dungeon. Ten minutes ago, I had been silently praying for water. But this was too much.

The level was past my stomach now, the sloshing of water deafening as it echoed off the walls of the prison. Suddenly, the door at the top of the stairs opened, revealing a flustered looking Baron. Strangely, smoke billowed down the stairs, indicating a fire somewhere up top.

“What have you done?” he shouted between ragged coughs. Judging by his shock, this flood wasn’t some grand and elaborate scheme to kill me. “There’s a dragon outside, my manor is half burned, wild animals and monsters are running rampant on my land, and now nature spirits are flooding my house!” He pointed a trembling finger at me and snarled, “You’re nothing but bad luck. I should’ve killed you when I had the chance!”

Before I could answer, he turned and slammed the door behind him.

The water was still rising and was now to my chest and taking up the lower portion of the staircase on the other side of the dungeon. My heart sank as it dawned on me that my odds of survival were rapidly diminishing with every passing second. Even if I were to somehow get the key for my chains, with this much water surrounding me, it would be difficult unlocking them as well as the prison door. The flood was up to my shoulders now, and the chill of it further dulled my movements. My teeth chattered. The experience wasn’t unlike that time I’d jumped into the river to save Carter—the temperature akin to the freezing temperature of the river north of my farm.

Panic and fear surged within me, and I struggled to breathe as the frigid water enveloped my shoulders. Water continually gushed into the dungeon, the torrent somehow even stronger now. Shivers wracked my body, not just from the cold, but from my imminent demise. This was it. This was the end.

Balancing on my tiptoes, I strained to keep my head above the water as it rose to my neck and splashed onto my face. Gasping for air, I exerted one last desperate effort to free myself, pulling hard against the chains, but the metal was as unyielding as the rising water.

I managed one final breath before the flood enveloped my entire face, plunging me into darkness.