M.S. Davidson
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32. Rain, Rain, and Rainhaven [Bonus]
🕑 Added 2025-08-18 15:30:03 +0000 UTCWhat Cass called rain felt like the sky declaring war on the earth.
Sheets of water crashed down in relentless waves, each drop hitting like liquid bullets. The forest canopy might as well have been tissue paper—the storm tore through everything with a deafening roar. Rain this heavy didn't just blur the edges of the world; it erased them entirely, turning reality into a gray, churning nightmare.
The path beneath our feet had become a raging river. Water surged past us in white-capped fury, searching for any weakness in the landscape to exploit.
Red didn't seem to mind getting absolutely demolished by nature's tantrum. Despite being drenched to the bone, he darted back and forth through the rapids with a play-bow, his paws splashing so enthusiastically I was convinced he was doing it on purpose. Every few seconds, he'd send a perfectly aimed spray directly at me or Cass, his wagging tail betraying his absolute glee at our misery.
"Seriously?" I shouted over the storm as another Red-propelled wave soaked my already-soaked everything.
We moved fast because we had to. Cass tore through the apocalyptic downpour like she was made for this, her movements fluid and sure, as if the water and mud were just inconvenient suggestions rather than physics. Something about her felt different—runic, almost. I could sense it faintly through my Bravery aura, like the edges of a spell I didn't fully understand. It wasn't Swiftness, but Grace seemed close. Whatever it was, it carried her forward with supernatural ease while I struggled not to face-plant in the rushing water.
As we approached a narrow stone bridge over what had been a river, now a chocolate-brown monster of churning rapids, the rain somehow intensified. The water crashed fifteen meters below into the heavy stone arches, violent enough to pulverize anything stupid enough to fall in. The bridge itself was built like a fortress—thick, chest-high walls on either side with gaps in the masonry every meter or so to let the waist-deep water pooling on top drain into the torrent below.
Even with the drainage, the bridge was losing the fight.
Cass reached it first, her silhouette vanishing into the wall of rain like a ghost. I forced myself to focus through the chaos, the combined roar of river and storm threatening to scramble my brain. Red barked once—a sharp, determined sound—and bounded ahead. I had to dig deep just to keep up.
That's when I realized something crucial about my aura: sensory overload was just background noise to it. Rain could blind me, thunder could deafen me, but my supernatural awareness didn't care. Beyond ten meters was mostly still just storm and fury, but within that bubble, I was completely aware. Bravery cut through the chaos like a blade, keeping me grounded when everything else wanted to wash me away.
I could vaguely feel Cass twenty meters ahead, her movements steady and sure despite the apocalypse around us. Red was doggy-paddling through the flooded bridge behind her, his determination almost hilarious if it weren’t so badass.
There was something about that dog that felt oddly intelligent—like he’d weathered more storms than most people. He navigated the flooded bridge like it was his personal swimming pool, completely unfazed by the supernatural tantrum happening around us.
"Local dogs must be hardcore," I muttered, giving him a boost forward as we slogged through the water together.
The end of the bridge brought exactly zero relief. The road ahead rose steeply, transformed into a rushing waterfall that seemed offended by our existence. Water surged downhill in relentless rapids, and for a moment, I was sure all three of us sighed in perfect unison before trudging forward into the uphill battle.
Cass had to circle back several times to check on us stragglers. I was positive Red could outpace me easily, but he stubbornly stayed at my side as I struggled up the terrain, my footing betraying me more than once. The water was getting deeper, the current stronger, like the road itself was actively trying to murder us. Two-plus hours of this nightmare marathon was taking its toll, making me painfully aware of the stamina gap between Cass and me.
"Everything into your legs!" Cass shouted over the storm, which seemed determined to get even heavier. "We need to reach Rainhaven soon or it’s going to be a rough night!"
She paused, rain streaming down her face. "It hasn't rained this hard in months!"
Normally, using mana to stick to the ground was automatic—I'd done it plenty of times. But the stone beneath the water seemed to resist the effort actively, like it was coated in supernatural grease. Reaching down, I yanked off my shoes and stored them in my earring. My bare feet gripped the surface as if they were made for it.
Great. What's next, furry feet? A gold ring? Second breakfast?
The thought made me grin despite everything, and I could sense Cass laughing at me through the rain. She didn't laugh long, though—I shot past her like I'd been holding back the whole time, my mana-enhanced feet finally finding purchase on the treacherous terrain.
We heard Rainhaven before we saw it. A deep, resonant strumming rose above the storm's constant roar, notes that seemed to wrap around the thunder and make it musical. Lantern orbs strung between ancient branches cast a flickering light that fought valiantly against the gray apocalypse.
The village materialized from the storm like something out of a fairy tale—if fairy tales involved potential drowning. Nestled among trees that felt older than civilization, stone cottages with moss-covered roofs and pagoda-like structures seemed to grow naturally from the forest floor. Gothic spires rose through the canopy, their frames softened by ivy that somehow thrived in the perpetual deluge.
Everything here embraced the rain rather than fight it. Carved channels guided the water in elegant streams, and even the storm's fury seemed muted beneath the dense canopy.
Six Trailbinders were clustered beneath a sprawling tangle of leaves at the village's edge. Their Sentarian drivers sat in perfect meditation, water streaming from their clothes like they were part of the landscape.
"Rainhaven," I said, catching up to Cass. "Nailed the branding."
An Aldertree man sat among the wagons, his bronze skin gleaming as rain cascaded off him in sheets. He strummed a melody on a guzheng balanced in his lap, the sound weaving through the downpour like magic made audible. His expression suggested he'd happily sit here all day, making music with the apocalypse.
"Lady Cassandra!" He stopped playing, face lighting up like she'd just made his week. "We were hoping you'd come through! Jake's at the hall—the road's completely flooded, and we've got monster sightings."
The transformation was instant and terrifying. Gone was the tired, slightly buzzed Cass I'd been traveling with. In her place stood someone laser-focused and lethal, already scanning the path ahead with predatory intensity.
Without a word, she motioned for me to follow and took off sprinting toward the village center. I nodded to the musician and chased after her, Red bounding alongside me with his tongue lolling out like this was the best day ever.
Her speed left me eating her dust, but I pushed forward through the flooded streets. By the time I reached the chapel, Cass had already vanished inside.
The building was part community center, part war room. Benches had been shoved aside to make room for stacks of wooden slips tied with string—crude maps marked with red circles and the word "MONSTER" scrawled in bold, angry strokes. Lantern orbs hung from the walls, casting a harsh light that made the whole place feel like a command bunker.
On a raised stage at the far end, three Aldertrees seemed to be engaged in a heated argument.
"I don't care, Jacob," the woman snapped, her voice sharp with a Cockney accent that reminded me of Diana. "If the road's blocked, that water's going somewhere else. We don't unblock it, we'll have bigger problems than monster sightings."
"We can't," Jacob replied, frustration bleeding through his calm tone. "That was an Arbortrux out there, Elizabeth. Class-E. We need Tower support."
"Class-E?" Cass interrupted, striding onto the stage like she owned it. "I'll need a sword."
All three turned to her, relief washing over their faces like she was the cavalry arriving at the last second.
Elizabeth—clearly the woman—spoke first. "Lady Cass, thank the roots you're here. Who's this?" Her sharp amber eyes flicked to me and Red, sizing us up in a heartbeat.
Cass didn't slow down. "The one I told you about. Ben’s Terran, the Breaker. Oh, and get this—Nana's first apprentice, Katie's new boy, and familiar named Red."
"I'm not Katie's—" I tried to interrupt.
"He says it's a dog, apparently like a wolf-fox hybrid," Cass steamrolled over me. "Erik thinks he's a Guardian."
"He's not a familiar!" I protested. Red wagged his tail as if he were agreeing with me.
"This morning he almost died taking a Class-D healing pill after sparring. Turns out he's got a life affinity."
The words tumbled out like juicy gossip, and I stood there feeling like a specimen being dissected for science.
"Bloody hell," the older man muttered. "You've had quite a day."
"Hi," I said weakly, suddenly the center of attention in the most awkward way possible.
"Ben, meet my best friends Jake and Elizabeth Aldertree, and Edward—their uncle, I think?" Cass gestured to each of them. "Fellow Strikers. We may have mentioned you once or twice. They're related to Felix."
"Sixth cousins," Jake clarified with a grin. He had Felix's sharp features but younger, more relaxed. Edward was older, bald, with a quiet authority that suggested he'd seen some serious shit. Elizabeth was striking—blue-green hair that seemed to float around her head, amber eyes that could probably see through souls.
Before I could figure out what to say, Red decided this was the perfect moment to shake himself dry. Water exploded in every direction, soaking everyone in the already-damp room.
"Seriously, man? Who brought the dog?" I grumbled, wringing out my shirt while the Aldertrees dodged the spray.
Elizabeth wiped a droplet from her cheek with theatrical precision. "Well, he's charming."
"Don't encourage him," I muttered, shooting Red a look. He grinned up at me, tongue lolling out, his damp fur making him look like a ridiculous cotton ball with legs.
"He's not a familiar," I continued. "I literally just met him. He's only following me because I have food."
"Sounds like a familiar to me," Jake said, leaning against the table. "Didn't Nana try to ditch Stanley for years before she gave in? You don't choose them—they choose you."
The others nodded in agreement. I looked down at Red, who was still panting, tail wagging like we were discussing his favorite topic.
"Fair point," I admitted, scratching behind his ears. Red leaned into it, clearly pleased with himself. "So what's an Arbortrux?"
"Big tail, short arms, giant claws, face like a demented rat," Cass rattled off. "They're not usually this close to civilization."
"Got it. So what's the deal with the road?"
Elizabeth blinked, surprised by my shift in focus. "Something's blocking an aqueduct a few spans out, flooding the main road. You're not worried about the monster?"
I glanced at Cass and caught her smiling at me—not her usual smirk, but something genuine. There was understanding in that look, a recognition that we were on the same wavelength. Problem plus ability to help equals obvious choice.
"Road's the bigger threat?" I asked.
"Absolutely," Elizabeth confirmed. "Dammed water will flood every monster and mana beast den in the valley. That means territorial displacement, resource competition, and absolute chaos after dark."
Jake nodded grimly. "We can handle the blockage, but we can't fight an Arbortrux. Not with our current supplies, but we have gadgets."
"Gadgets?" I’d heard them referenced before, but it made me think of spy movies and Q-branch.
"Striker equipment," Cass explained. "Until we bind our Seals, we rely on techno-magic. Levels the playing field against things that could murder us."
Elizabeth slid two wooden boxes onto the table. The first held thin metal rods with blackened runes etched onto their surfaces. The second contained three shiny discs with holes in the center, surfaces gleaming like weaponized CDs.
"Shock spikes," Elizabeth said, gesturing to the rods. "Felix made them before he… well, before. Blue-tier. Great for disabling monsters. The discs are mana traps—red-tier."
I picked up one spike, surprised by its weight. Wickedly sharp, like a heavy nail with a coin-sized head.
“One-time use," Cass added with a grin. “But devastating. Press a coin into the end, stab something nasty, let go, and watch the fireworks. Just don't hold on too long or you'll get fried too.”
She paused, eyes lighting up. "And swords. Two if you've got them."
Edward turned to me. "Your friend need anything, or is he like Felix?"
"Erik got him a spear," Cass said before I could answer. "Which I completely forgot to mention!"
Every eye in the room turned to me. The weapon case across my chest was so light I'd forgotten it existed. I nodded awkwardly, keeping my mouth shut about my complete lack of spear-fighting knowledge.
"We'll handle the digging," Jake said calmly. "But if that Arbortrux shows up, we'll need Hunters. Need anything else?"
"Don't suppose you have a full set of armor?" Cass asked. The trio's synchronized smirks dripped sarcasm.
"Didn't think so," she muttered.
"Actually, I do," I said, giving Cass a pointed look. Her eyebrows shot up.
"Right! You should suit up once we confirm the monster," she said casually.
"Why not now?" I asked, excitement bubbling up. "I haven't even tried it on yet!"
"Trust me," Elizabeth said firmly. "Wait until we have confirmed contact."
I frowned but gave in. Everyone here seemed to have an inexplicable armor phobia.
"Everything we have is here," Jake said. "Dry clothes, food, mana pearls if you need them."
At the mention of mana, something deep in my chest fluttered—not hunger, exactly, but need. Sharp and insistent, like my body recognizing something essential. The handful of pearls Ronald had given me earlier had pushed my reserves higher than ever before, and I was developing a dangerous craving for that feeling.
"Food sounds good," I said. Red's tail wagged in agreement.
Edward retrieved cheese and sausages from a back cupboard. Red sniffed the sausage with obvious disappointment but perked up at the cheese.
I tossed him a piece. He snatched it mid-air with surgical precision, swallowing it whole. When I looked back, everyone was staring at me with varying degrees of disgust.
"Dogs are food-motivated," I shrugged.
"And he's not your familiar," Cass shot back, marching up to me with her mouth full. She reared back for what was clearly going to be a shoulder punch.
Bravery warned me. On impulse, I flooded my shoulder with mana. Her fist connected with zero effect. Cass recoiled, shaking her hand as if she'd punched a wall.
"Fucking seriously?" She exclaimed, cracking her knuckles. "Oh, I know this game."
"Lady Cass!" Jake called out, but I was already moving, leaning away as she threw another punch. This time the air cracked audibly, and a nearby bench exploded from the shockwave.
It was like watching a miniature version of Chas's techniques. I'd known Cass was strong, but seeing her casual destruction made my stomach flip.
"He dodged it?!" Jake whooped, laughing as even Cass looked momentarily stunned.
"My aura," I explained, still figuring it out myself. "Lets me sense things around me. Like, for example, Red is currently devouring all your cheese."
Everyone turned toward the table where Red had somehow materialized, a wheel of cheese between his paws, looking like a guilty toddler caught red-handed. He spat out a half-chewed chunk, eyes wide with his best attempt at innocence.
The dog was fast. And apparently a cheese thief.
I approached carefully—new dog, new rules. Crouching down, I reached under the table to retrieve what was left of their cheese, keeping one eye on Red in case he went feral.
He didn't. Just stared at me with those pitiful, dream-crushed eyes.
"Finish what you were eating," I sighed. Red happily chomped down on the remaining chunks with loud, satisfied smacking sounds.
"Sorry," I said, placing the salvaged cheese back on the table. When I straightened, all four of them were staring at me like I'd just declared myself emperor of the known world.
"He's really weird," Elizabeth said, nudging Cass.
"Oh, you have no idea," Cass replied with a wicked grin. "The familiar's new. Every time he stops baking, things get interesting. I watched him sweet-talk Cyrus into giving up sweets. Speaking of which, those brownies..."
Her gaze flicked to me, and something genuinely feral flickered in her eyes.
"Oh!" I reached into my earring and pulled out the mostly full tray from earlier. "Still warm, somehow."
The three Florans practically trampled Cass as they caught the scent, moving like sharks who'd tasted blood.
"Graceful Gods, is that cocoa?" Edward asked, his stern demeanor cracking into childlike wonder.
“It’s the least I can do after Red demolished your cheese,” I said, setting the tray down. "And none for you, Red. Chocolate is bad for dogs."
Red huffed dramatically and retreated under the table, where I could hear him licking the floor for crumbs.
The Florans attacked with bare hands, their reactions immediate and intense. Edward's response was particularly dramatic.
"Fuck me sideways," he laughed. "The Vildar would burn cities for this."
Cass elbowed her way back in for a piece. "What the hell, Ben? This is half-eaten!"
I grinned and shrugged. While drinking with her earlier, I'd discovered I could basically "eat" food stored in my earring through pure imagination. Instead of picking it up, I just imagined taking bites. The snacking implications were revolutionary, though drinking was trickier and cost more mana.
"So your aura lets you sense things around you?" she asked with a mouthful of brownie.
"Something like that. More instinct than sight."
She raised her hand behind her back. "What finger am I holding up?"
I flipped her off without hesitation. "Don't need superpowers for that one."
Cass grinned, returning the gesture. "So impressive."
"What does that mean?" Elizabeth asked, tilting her head.
"It means 'fuck you,'" Cass said, demonstrating for Elizabeth. "Terran gesture for when someone can't hear you. Incredibly convenient."
Elizabeth mimicked the motion, giggling. "Like that word you taught me he said? Cun—"
"Moving on!" I cut in quickly. "I can't tell what specific finger you're holding up, Cass, but I knew it was just one. Make sense?"
Instead of answering, Cass strolled over to a bench and grabbed one of the heavy wooden slips. She hurled it at me with alarming accuracy.
Bravery barely registered the threat in time. Pure instinct made me sidestep and catch the projectile with a painful slap. Setting it down, I turned back to find Cass grinning like a predator about to pounce.
"Jake, get me those swords," she said sweetly.
"Whoa, nope!" I blurted. "I'm still way too slow. Erik has speed I can't match yet."
"Oh?" she said, and Bravery practically screamed in my mind before she moved.
She teleported. No other word for it.
Instinct made me lean back to dodge what looked like a straight punch. Unfortunately, it was a feint, and her backhand caught me square in the groin. I tried to flood the area with mana at the last second, but I was far too slow.
Pain exploded throughout my entire existence. I dropped to my knees, clutching myself as Red darted out from under the table to sniff at me like I might be hiding treats.
"Who do you think taught Erik to be fast?" Cass said smugly, crossing her arms. "I've got three brothers, all with the same weakness. Don't think I haven't perfected this technique—Erik can almost dodge it now."
"Why?" I croaked, doubled over as the pain radiated through every nerve ending.
