The heavy hiss of rain on stone drowned out the quiet conversation between Jaalin, Toorvu and Stekat. Kat looked out of their cave at the barren, rocky landscape of the ninth floor.

There wasn’t much light, partially a factor of the thick, omnipresent, clouds that hung low in the sky, but also a result of the distant and dim pinprick of light that the Tower had replaced its usual fake sun with. A short distance away was another cave with a town, more of a small encampment really, cut into the side of the mountain they were sheltering in.

Dorrik’s footsteps behind her drew Kat’s attention. They gave her a quick smile, and she returned it before looking back out at the smooth, rolling expanses of dark stone.

“Is all of that rain really acidic?” She asked, motioning with a hand toward the heavy clouds.

“Unfortunately,” Dorrik replied. “The ninth floor doesn’t have many monsters on the surface, but that is because it is incredibly hard to traverse it without outside help. Instead, it is designed in such a way as to force you into the labyrinth of subterranean caverns. They make travel much slower. Often travelers end up so lost that they don’t make it to their destinations before dawn breaks and they are forced to wake up, resetting them to the nearest exploration village.”

“But we have map,” Kat stated. “Obviously, if your clan wanted us to reach this floor guardian in time for your ascension ceremony, they would have provided you with the tools we needed to spelunk our way to the finish line.”

Dorrik reached up, scratching at a scale below their hearing organ. Their crest was almost completely stiff, unmoving despite the gentle breeze rolling off of the acid washed rock wastes.

“Crap,” She said, looking back out at the rain. “There isn’t a map is there?”

“No,’ Dorrik responded softly. “There is not. Even if one was provided to me, the path to the floor guardian is too long. We would spend days in the deep fighting our way past blind horrors, dead end caverns, and potential rock slides. I can feel the change upon me. I’ve been trying to hold it off so that I can complete the coming of age ritual first, but-”

“But you can only hold out for so long,” Kat finished for him, reaching up to run a hand through her hair. “I don’t suppose a little known lokkel trait is the ability to immunize themselves and their allies from acid? That would be a very useful power right about now.”

Dorrik chuffed out a quick laugh, a genuine smile flickering across their face for the first time in days.

“Very true Miss Kat”

“So what’s the plan?” Kat asked. “Do you let yourself melt and then have a high level player pour you into a mold and fix you? Maybe you have an object that will let you teleport?”

“Rigar hide umbrellas,” Dorrik replied, their muzzle twisting into a grimace as the nodded in Jaalin’s general direction. “They are acid resistant and Jaalin has been provided with six of them for this occasion, but I doubt that any of us will enjoy the experience much. Resistant doesn’t mean immune, and we will need to feed mana into their enchantments to fill that gap.”

“More importantly,” they said sourly, “Rigar aren’t terribly large animals and as such they do not produce overly large hides. Acid splashing off of the rock will burn our calves and feet, and anyone trying to jog will have to extend their body into the open.”

“It sorta seems like we will have to jog though,” Kat responded hesitantly. “If we are in a hurry to get to the floor guardian, and if the umbrellas will require a constant supply of mana, It sure sounds to me like we will have to scramble from cave to cave as we make our way toward our target.”

“Indeed.” Dorrik’s voice was bleak. “I have seen projections for a team’s survivability on the ninth floor’s surface, and what we seek to do is fairly doable. So long as no one falls into one of its many sinkholes, it should be fine. Just extremely painful and exhausting.”

“Joy.” Kat grimaced. “I don’t suppose we could wait for the rains to stop and make a break for it.”

“Wait,” she caught herself. “Do the rains stop? This isn’t just an eternal thing right? I suppose I assumed that the floor would follow something like normal rules.”

“They do,” Dorrik allowed. “But such pauses are infrequent and only for short periods of time. We would likey have to wait days for a break of a couple hours. Ordinarily, explorers use that time to gather resources that only exist on the surface, but if you try and use those lulls to travel, well. It would be much quicker and safer for us to try our luck in the caves.”

“Crap,” Kat said unhappily.

“Crap indeed,” Dorrik agreed placing a hand atop her shoulder. “Come Miss Kat. As unpleasant as the task before us is, delaying it will not make it any more enjoyable.”

They turned and walked toward Jaalin, Kat drooping sightly as she followed in their wake. Toorvu waved as they approached, drawing a curt nod and a pained smile from Kat.

Jaalin looked up. For once, the vaguely smug look of superiority was missing from her face, her mouth set in a thin line of determination.

“Are we ready?” She asked. “I have gone over a map of the surface and plotted a route for us that will hopefully keep us in the rain for no more than an hour at a time. We will stop as frequently as possible to rest and heal, but even so the expedition will be a grueling one.”

“And I thank you for making it with me,” Dorrik replied formally. “Your assistance up until now has been quite useful, but your sacrifice in joining me for the final leg of my journey is truly welcome.”

“It is an honor,” Jaalin responded in the same tone.

The moment passed.

“Now take your umbrella,” she continued, handing a stick covered in a thin greenish leather to Dorrik. “It’s time for us spring through the storm while yowling in pain in the least dignified manner imaginable.”

A second later, another umbrella was thrust into Kat’s hands. Experimentally, she pulled the leather tab coming out of its bottom, causing the entire apparatus to open with a soft ‘foomp.’

“Oh no!” Kaleek called out in mock outrage. “Kat opened her umbrella indoors, now we will suffer from a year of bad luck.”

Kat glared at the giant otter, only for the desoph to respond by sticking his tongue out at her.

“Enough of that,” Jaalin cut in sternly. “Both of you are fine combatants, but the second the fight is over, I swear, you are like children.”

This time, Kaleek stuck his tongue out at the disapproving lokkel, but she simply ignored him, instead opting to pass out the rest of the equipment they would need for their run across the empty landscape of the ninth floor.

She gave them all a once over before nodding to herself. Her crest fluttered for a second, a stark contrast to Dorrik’s tight expression and stiff muscles.

“All right,” Jaalin said evenly. “Follow my lead. I’ve memorized the landmarks, insomuch as this hellscape has them, and I know the locations of all the nearest caves and encampments. We will rest as often as possible to recharge our mana, heal any damage and give the umbrellas a chance to recover.”If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

The female lokkel turned and took a deep breath before she held the umbrella out and sprinted into the deluge.

A second later, Dorrik popped their umbrella open and joined her. After that it was a free for all with the rest of the team running out into the rain. Almost immediately, Kat felt a slight but steady draw from her mana as the enchantments on the leather began drawing power from her.

Then, the skin of her calves began to itch. At first it was annoying, but after five seconds it was all but maddening. Everything in her demanded that Kat stop and drop her umbrella so that she could dig the nails inoto her skin and scratch away.

The urge faded as her irritated skin blossomed into pain. Kat could feel every microscopic droplet of acid as it hissed and burned its way through her skin. It felt like hundreds of red-hot needles digging and wriggling their way deep into the muscle and bone beneath. Her breath caught in her throat, but she kept running, unwilling to be the reason why their convoy had to slow and double back.

Ahead of her, she could see the legs and ankles of Kaleek and the lokkel emitting wisps of whitish-yellow smoke.

Her breath came out in short, sharp, painful gasps as she ran. Kat could feel her nose and eyes burning as the fumes from the rain seared them, but she was committed to the run. There was nothing to do but squint through the blurry tears of pain and put one foot after another.

The first five minutes were the hardest.

All but unbearable pain gnawed at her legs, and every time Kat glanced down she half expected to see exposed muscle and bone. It wasn’t quite that bad, but every patch of exposed skin was little more than a mass of raised welts and burns.

Sometime between the fifth and tenth minute the pain began to fade. Not because the rain was doing less damage, but rather due to the hungry liquid devouring her nerve endings one by one. It still hurt, but the pain had transformed from a sharp, jabbing burn to a dull all consuming ache that sank deep into her bones.

Breathing was still difficult, Kat could feel the trace amounts of acid evaporated into the air attacking the tender flesh of her lips and throat, but somehow she was able to choke down the oxygen she needed to continue her run. Her vision wavered, and Kat swore she could actually feel her corneas being seared and scarred by the faint acid, but she didn’t let the damage distract her. One foot tapped down on the smooth, rolling stone after another as she pushed herself to follow her alien companions.

They seemed to have it easier, scales and thick fur better adapted to hostile environments, but through everything, Kat continued muttering the same sentence to herself.

I can heal when we rest. Everything will reset when I wake up. I will not be a burden.

It became a mantra, a metronome by which she measured her flight. Right foot touches down, I can heal when I rest. Quick shuddering breath, Everything will reset when I wake up. Left foot hits the ground, I will not be a burden.

The repetition lulled her into almost a trance. She couldn’t even see the damaged but starkly beautiful landscape, her vision narrowed to Kaleek’s armored back in front of her. The gleaming metal of his breastplate and pauldrons served as a beacon, guiding her through the burning gloom until suddenly she stumbled to a stop in a shallow cave.

Kat collapsed against a wall, the words to Cure Wounds II stuttering out between swollen lips.

Golden light surrounded her hands, transferring almost immediately to her aching legs. The pain doubled, damaged neurons firing wildly as the magic restored them to life.

Kat’s world went white, the strange words to the arcane spell blurring and slipping from her tongue as the agony shattered her self control. Seconds later, she awoke on the ground, her legs only partially healed and a concerned Dorrik leaning over her.

Her mouth opened a second time to begin croaking out the activation to her spell, but they shook their head gently.

“Save your strength Miss Kat,’ they whispered, placing a hand on her shoulder. “Your mana is very low from powering the enchantments, and your focus is weakened with it. For now, we must all simply bear the pain. Once your mana returns, you should heal yourself so that you can heal the rest of us. I doubt that our suffering is as great as yours, but this experience has been far from pleasant.”

“I don’t know,” Kat replied, coughing as a flash of pain traveled up the length of her tender throat. “I had a lot of fun. Just a nice invigorating jog in a summer rainstorm. Great cardio. We should do it again next Wednesday.”

“I am afraid you will be alone in that endeavor,” Dorrik responded earnestly. “Jaalin’s route managed to avoid cliffs and pitfalls, but the entire journey is as treacherous as it is painful. I would not be eager to repeat it.”

“Agreed,” Kat croaked.

Dorrik didn’t respond, instead remaining crouched next to her. Seconds ticked past, almost reaching a minute before she spoke up.

“Are you sure about all of this Dorrik? I mean, I understand that your clan has asked an almost impossible task of you, but it feels strange that we don’t have a higher level guide or more assistance in the process. Our cultures are very different, but one of the things I think humanity got right was the belief that no one should only live for the benefit of someone else. It can seem a bit selfish at times, and most humans take the concept a bit far, but there is something freeing about looking at the expectations heaped upon you and knowing that, no matter how unpleasant, there is always another route.”

“Even your employees Miss Kat?” Dorrik asked. “They would appear to be forced into a marginalized societal role with very few options to escape.”

“Quit deflecting,” Kat replied with a quick, pained chuckle. “But yes, even our employees. We have a concept called radical freedom. Even when it seems like there are no choices remaining, there is always the choice to run away or fight to the death. Personally, I think its part of the reason why our society tolerates the samurai. Employees can choose a life of servitude out of fear, but there is always the option of running away from it all and becoming an anonymous warrior with a new name. To become a match burning in the darkness, flaring brightly for a short period before disappearing into the night, but potentially leaving an impression that could last decades.”

“Sure your debt is called due,” she continued, “but that doesn’t mean much if your corporation can’t catch you. No accountant that wants to keep their license is going to authorize a full armored assault team into a slum district just to extract a couple of former machine operators.”

She reached up, wrapping her fingers around Dorrik’s scaled wrist.

“You have that freedom too, Dorrik. I’ve seen how this entire thing weighs upon you. No matter how many times you claim you’re excited, I can see the worry under everything. You’re in orbit above my world. If you want to turn your back on the rules of your clan, on the expectations pressing down on you, we will shelter you in a second. Of course, if this is your choice, I’ll support you with every fiber of my being. I just want it to be your choice, free and clear from any outside influence.”

Dorrik thought for a minute, crest relaxing slightly as their eyes grew distant. Finally, after almost thirty seconds, they squeezed Kat’s shoulder gently, a smile stretching itself across their muzzle.

“Thank you Miss Kat,” they whispered back. “You are right that lokkel society doesn’t have such an individualistic conception of freedom, but I think your words hold some truth. The decision to follow my clan’s directives and pursue honor doesn’t mean nearly as much if it is forced upon me.”

“I choose to shoulder this burden,” Dorrik continued, their voice growing stronger. “Knowing that I could cast aside their expectations and live a comfortable and exciting life as a rogue, I choose to run through the acid storms and face off against the floor guardian because it is what I want to do. The stallesp have taken my siblings and my levels from me, but they have not taken my determination or honor. Clan Ahn asks that I take a painful trek to cleanse myself before I face a monster far above my station. It would be easy to respond with disbelief and self-pity, but that is not who I am.”

“No,” they said fervently, eyes shining. “What they ask is a secret question. They ask me to define myself. Succeeding at their task is hardly as important as how I answer the call, and for that I thank you. Both for your friendship and willingness to share my burden so that you can stand beside me and for your words.”

“I did not realize I had a choice, I simply thought of this as duty. It is duty, but it is so much more than that. It is a challenge that I voluntarily throw myself at, not just to prove myself to the elders, but to prove who I am to myself. As I slay the floor guardian, I will also slay my self-doubt and the memories of my past weakness.”

Kat smiled up at them, tapping their scaled forearm before forcing herself back to her feet.

“Good,” she replied. “Then I am happy to stand beside you every pace of the way. The decision is yours, just as it is my decision to fight through the pain to support you.”

She shifted her head to the side, cracking her neck as she checked her status.

“There we are. Enough mana to heal my burns so I’d better get to it. It looks like we still have a long run in front of us.”