This Beast-Tamer is a Little Strange

Kain exhaled—slow, steady.

Soreia finally looked at him.

Their eyes met.

She reached for the Pathstone closest to himself. He did the same.

As their hands touched the orbs, a warm current surged through their arms.

Kain couldn't see anything different visually, but he could sense a low vibration settled against his bones.

Then a section of the chamber wall began to descend, revealing a long passage of cracked stone and rusted grates.

A rumble shook the floor.

Then the sound came: water.

No—not water. Something thicker. Bubbling. Acidic.

The relic had not been lying.

A flood was coming.

-------------

Even with some protection, the first step burned.

Kain launched himself down the passage the moment it opened, Soreia a half-step behind him. The distant hiss of the flood churned louder now, gaining speed, sloshing around corners with a terrifying, hungry resonance.

It was coming from all around behind them— from the corridor they'd just travelled down to get to this chamber; from the ceiling of the chamber they currently resided in; from the passage that just opened and would likely need to travel through to escape.

Each breath was hot in his lungs. The Pathstone's magic buzzed against his skin, creating a protective barrier like static clinging to every thread of his clothes. But he could feel the decay at its edges—like something thin, already wearing away.

The hallway narrowed sharply. Pipes burst from the walls at odd angles, spewing jets of a corrosive steam or acid that forced Kain and Soreia to duck and dodge. One gust of mist hissed past Kain's ear, and he smelled the hair on his arm singe before the Pathstone kicked in and repelled it.

The flood roared closer.

Kain risked a glance back—just in time to see the first wave of frothing, yellow-green liquid surge around the corner behind them. It ate through the stone floor like fire through parchment, leaving blackened, crumbling pits in its wake. The air filled with the stench of corroded metal and sulfur.

Soreia didn't slow. She vaulted over a fallen portion of wall—degraded by the spewing acid, her movements eerily precise, as if she'd already mapped every step. Kain followed, his muscles burning. The Pathstone's protection flickered—just for a heartbeat—and a droplet of acid splashed onto his shoes. The leather sizzled instantly, the smoke stinging his eyes.

'The protection will last half as long,' he remembered the relic had warned. 'Both of us may die.'

Ahead, the tunnel forked again. Left or right? One sloped down and the other up. Unfortunately, there was no time to debate. Intuitively, the right path that sloped upwards felt safer to Kain, since it would slow down the acid approaching from behind.

But just when he was leaning in that direction…

Soreia veered left without hesitation.

Kain gritted his teeth and followed.

And just as they made that choice, he heard what sounded like another flood of acid coming down from the elevated right corridor.

The left path sloped downward, the ceiling dipping so low they had to crouch. The acid flood poured after them, relentless, its surface bubbling with violent heat. The protective aura around Kain grew thinner, the static buzz fading into sporadic pulses. He could feel it—time running out.

Then, a glint of light ahead.

An exit.

A jagged archway led into a wider chamber, its floor studded with raised stone platforms—safe islands in a sea of rising acid. But the gaps between them were too wide to jump.

Soreia didn't pause. She sprinted for the first platform, leapt—

—and barely made it, her heel skidding on the edge.

Kain didn't have the luxury of hesitation. He lunged after her, the Pathstone's energy sputtering out briefly as his feet left the ground. For a heart-stopping moment, he hung in the air, the acid surging beneath him—

Then his boots slammed onto stone. He stumbled, catching himself on his palms as the flood swallowed the corridor they arrived through behind him.

No going back.

Across the chamber, another archway promised escape. But between them and it: six more platforms, each spaced just beyond comfortable reach and on the verge of being submerged at any second.

Soreia was already calculating, her white eyes darting. "We'll barely make it if we work fast."

Kain wiped sweat from his brow. "And if we do not jump straight into acid…"

She ignored him. The flood's surface churned below, its level rising. The Pathstones' glow was dimming, and Kain felt a prickling sensation across his skin as every few seconds splashes of acid landed on the protective layer around him and wasn't completely blocked.

Then—movement.

The acid wasn't just pooling. It was pulsing. Every few seconds, the liquid surged upward in a slow, rhythmic tide, cresting just above some of the platforms they were looking to land on before receding.

Like a tide.

Fortunately it followed a pattern.

Soreia stepped to the edge. "Now."

After making a running jump as the wave pulled back. Kain cursed and followed.

They moved like that—platform to platform, riding the brief lulls between surges. The fifth jump was the worst. Kain's Pathstone flickered out entirely mid-air, and for one terrifying second, he felt the heat and pain from just the corrosive steam being emitted from the acid as it ate through everything in its path.

Then he crashed onto the next platform, rolling to safety. His boots, which were closest to the acid during the jump were scorched, the soles nearly eaten through.

Soreia landed beside him, her own protection barely holding. She didn't look at him. But for the first time, her breath came uneven.

One jump left.

The final platform stood before the exit, but the gap was wider. The acid's rhythm was faster now, the waves cresting higher.

Kain flexed his fingers. "We'll have to go together."

Soreia nodded.

They waited—watched—

—and leapt as the tide pulled back.

For a moment, they were weightless, the acid's surface stretching hungrily beneath them.

Bam

Kain misjudged his jump and his leg slammed into the edge of the platform, his fingers scrabbled for purchase on the slick stone. Pain shot up his leg. His grip was failing.

Below him, the acid surged again—so close now he could feel its heat baking his skin.

And above him—white eyes.

Soreia was crouched at the edge. Watching.

Just watching.