Eternal Rain: The Sunbringer

Drowning in Betrayal

I sheathed my sword.

The sound of steel sliding back into its scabbard echoed through the temple, a decision made manifest. Lucinda's eyes widened slightly—perhaps in surprise, perhaps in relief. I couldn't tell.

"That's not the same as helping you," I warned, my voice rougher than I intended.

She nodded once, a slight incline of her head. "It's a start."

Rain pounded against what remained of the temple roof, creating a staccato rhythm that filled the silence between us. Water pooled at our feet, rising imperceptibly but steadily. The undercity was always sinking, always drowning, no matter how many pumps the Highlanders installed. Some said it was only a matter of time before the water claimed it all.

"Why does the Guild want you dead?" I asked, though I already knew part of the answer.

Lucinda moved toward one of the less damaged sections of the temple, gesturing for me to follow. "How much did your Guildmaster tell you?"

"Enough." I kept a careful distance between us. Trust wasn't something given freely in the undercity, especially not to targets. "He called you a sunbringer. Said your kind upsets the balance."

She laughed, a sound as foreign in these ruins as the light she had summoned. "Balance? Is that what they call this?" She gestured broadly to our surroundings—the crumbling walls, the encroaching water, the perpetual gloom. "There's no balance here, Cyrus. Only power. And those who wield it wish to keep things exactly as they are."

"The rain serves them," I surmised.

"The rain serves no one," she corrected. "But some have learned to profit from the misery it brings. The Highlanders control the high ground, the dry spaces. They control the food that can be grown in artificial light, the medicine that keeps the flood-borne illnesses at bay. And your Guild? They're the enforcers, the shadows that silence anyone who might threaten that control."

I felt a chill that had nothing to do with my damp clothes. "If what you're saying is true, why haven't they killed you already? Why risk sending just one assassin?"

Her expression darkened. "Because they're afraid. Not just of me, but of what I represent. If they make a martyr of me, others might take up my cause."

"And what cause is that, exactly?"

She moved to a section of wall where faded murals still clung to the stone. Her fingers traced the outline of what might once have been a sun. "To end this. To find a way to part the clouds, permanently. To bring back the sun."

"You think that's possible?"

"I know it is." The certainty in her voice was startling. "The rain wasn't always here, Cyrus. The old texts speak of a time when the sky was clear more often than not. When sunlight was so common that people took it for granted."

I'd heard such stories, of course. Everyone had. Tales of a dry world, passed down through generations. But they had always seemed like fantasies, like the bedtime stories mothers told their children to help them sleep through the sound of endless rain.

"Even if you're right," I said, "what makes you think you can change it? One woman against the entire system?"

Her eyes met mine, and for a moment, I glimpsed something in them—a fire that burned despite the damp. "I'm not alone. There are others like me. Not many, but enough. And we've discovered something, hidden in the oldest ruins of the city."

My interest was piqued despite my better judgment. "What?"

"A machine," she said. "Ancient technology from before the rains began. We believe it was part of a larger system meant to control the weather."

I scoffed. "Control the weather? That's impossible."

"Is it?" She challenged. "More impossible than this?" She raised her hand, and a small globe of light appeared above her palm, illuminating the temple interior with a warm glow that pushed back the shadows.

I instinctively stepped back, my hand returning to my sword hilt. The light wasn't as intense as it had been in the alley, but it was unmistakably the same power.

"How do you do that?" I demanded.

She closed her fingers, and the light vanished, leaving us once again in semi-darkness. "I was born with the ability. It's rare, but not unique. There are others who can create heat, manipulate water, even influence the growth of plants. Small powers, but significant in a world that has forgotten what it once was."

I struggled to process what she was telling me. My entire life had been defined by the rain, by the struggle to survive in a world where dryness was a luxury and light a precious commodity. The idea that it could be different—that there was a purpose behind the eternal downpour—was almost too much to comprehend.

"This machine," I said finally. "Where is it?"

"In the deepest part of the old city. Below even the undercity. Parts of it have been salvaged by the Highlanders for their technology, but the core remains intact."

"And you think you can use it to stop the rain?"

"Not alone," she admitted. "We need access to the Highland facilities, to their power sources. And we need protection. Your Guild isn't the only group trying to stop us."

I laughed bitterly. "And you think I'm going to help you? Risk everything on your fairy tale?"

"I think you've already made your choice," she said simply. "By not killing me when you had the chance."

She was right, and the realization unsettled me. I had hesitated, had allowed curiosity to override years of training and loyalty. The vial in my pocket felt like an accusation.

"I need to think," I said, taking a step back. "This is—"

A noise from the entrance of the temple cut me short. The unmistakable splash of footsteps in water. Multiple sets.

Lucinda tensed, her hand moving to a small blade concealed in her belt. "Did you come alone?" she whispered.

"Yes," I hissed back, drawing my sword once more. "But it seems we have company."

Vex's voice carried through the temple, echoing off the stone walls. "Aurelius! I know you're in here. The Guildmaster sends his regards."

Beside me, Lucinda cursed under her breath. "They followed you."

"Impossible," I insisted, though doubt gnawed at me. "I'm not an amateur."

"Then perhaps they followed me," she conceded. "Either way, we're trapped."

I glanced around, assessing our options. The temple had only one main entrance, and the windows were too small for an adult to squeeze through. The water was rising faster now, already past our ankles.

"There," Lucinda whispered, pointing to a section of the floor where a circular stone sat slightly askew. "An old drainage system. It might lead out."

I moved toward it, using my sword to pry at the edge of the stone. It gave way with a groan, revealing a dark passage below.

"Ladies first," I muttered.

Lucinda hesitated. "How do I know this isn't a trap? That you're not leading me right to them?"

"You don't," I replied honestly. "But right now, I'm your best chance of getting out of here alive."

She studied me for a moment, then nodded. "Fair enough."

As she prepared to descend, I reached into my pocket and removed the vial the Guildmaster had given me. Its contents glowed faintly in the dim light.

"What is that?" Lucinda asked, eyeing it warily.

"Poison," I answered. "Specifically designed for sunbringers, according to the Guildmaster."

Her expression hardened. "And you're showing me this because?"

I placed the vial on the stone floor and crushed it under my boot. The blue liquid hissed as it mixed with the temple's floodwater. "Consider it a gesture of good faith."

Vex's voice came again, closer now. "We know the sunbringer is with you, Aurelius. The Guildmaster is most displeased. But he's willing to be merciful if you complete your task now."

Lucinda looked at me, a silent question in her eyes.

"Go," I urged her. "I'll hold them off, then follow."

"Cyrus—"

"Go!" I repeated more forcefully. "If what you've told me is true, you're too important to die here."

She disappeared into the passage. I moved back to the center of the temple, sword at the ready, as three figures emerged from the entrance.

Vex, Mara, and Thorn spread out, their weapons drawn. Behind them, three more guild members I didn't recognize moved to block the exit.

"Aurelius," Vex called, his voice almost friendly. "What an unexpected pleasure to find you here. Praying, were we?"

"Something like that," I replied, keeping my tone even.

Mara's eyes darted around the temple. "Where is she? The sunbringer?"

"Gone," I said simply.

Thorn spat on the floor. "He's lying. She's hiding somewhere."

Vex sighed dramatically. "Cyrus, Cyrus, Cyrus. The Guildmaster warned us you might have been... compromised. It seems he was right."

"I don't know what you're talking about," I said, though the lie felt hollow even to my own ears.

"No?" Vex gestured to one of the unfamiliar guild members, who stepped forward holding a familiar object—my tracking device, standard issue for all guild assassins. "You disabled it. Very sloppy for someone of your experience."

I cursed inwardly. It had been a precaution, nothing more. I hadn't wanted the Guild tracking my movements while I sorted through my thoughts.

"The Guildmaster is disappointed," Vex continued, his voice dropping to a menacing whisper. "He had such high hopes for you."

I adjusted my grip on my sword. Six against one. Not impossible odds, but far from favorable, especially with the rising water hampering movement.

"Last chance, Aurelius," Vex offered. "Tell us where she went, and perhaps the Guildmaster will forgive your lapse in judgment."

I thought of Lucinda, of the light she had shown me, of the possibility—however remote—that the world could be different. That the rain could end.

"I'm afraid I can't do that," I said.

Vex's face hardened. "Then you've made your choice."

They moved as one, closing in from all sides. I raised my blade, ready to fight to the bitter end, when a rumbling shook the temple. The floor beneath us trembled, and cracks appeared in the ancient stone.

For a moment, we all froze, caught off guard by the unexpected disturbance. Then, with a deafening crash, a section of the floor gave way, taking two of the unknown guild members with it. Water rushed into the newly formed chasm, creating a powerful current that threatened to drag us all down.

Chaos erupted. I seized the opportunity, diving toward the drainage passage where Lucinda had disappeared. A knife whistled past my ear, drawing blood from my cheek, but I kept moving.

As I reached the opening, I glanced back to see Vex struggling against the current, his face contorted with rage. Our eyes met across the temple floor.

"Traitor!" he screamed above the roar of the water.

I slipped into the darkness of the passage, leaving the Guild—and my old life—behind.