Chapter 37: Cassandra

The figure broke through the haze, and Arwyn's breath caught. It was a girl, tiny, no taller than his waist, maybe seven years old. Her hair hung in wet clumps, dark and tangled, sticking to her cheeks like seaweed. 

She wore a patched cloak too big for her, dragging in the mud, but she didn't shiver. She didn't even blink as rain pelted her face. She stepped closer, barefoot, her small feet slapping the wet grass with a rhythm that said she'd walked this way a hundred times.

"Hey!" she called again, her voice high but steady, cutting through the storm's roar. "You're the ones with the fire, right?"

Arwyn blinked, rain dripping into his eyes. "Uh… yeah? Who are you?"

She stopped a few feet away, tilting her head like a bird. "My name is Cassandra. I have been watching you since the butterflies left. You're loud."

Santina snorted, stepping forward with her hands on her hips. "Loud? Kid, you're the one yelling in a downpour. What are you doing out here?"

Cassandra shrugged, wiping her nose with a soggy sleeve. "Rain's my friend here in Perpetua. It doesn't bother me. You're the weird ones, hiding under a rock!"

Nathaniel's eyes narrowed, his hand still near his coat. "A friend, huh? Are you alone?"

"No," Cassandra said, her gaze flicking to the fog behind her. "I just live nearby, but I like to play here in the fields."

Arwyn crouched to her level, ignoring the water soaking his knees. "You live here? In Perpe… whatever you just said?"

"Perpetua! Where the rain never goes away! Yes, I do live here," she replied, matter-of-fact, like it was no big deal. She reached into her cloak and pulled out a small, cracked shell, its edges glowing faintly blue. "I found this today, and maybe you might want it."

Santina frowned, leaning closer. "What's a kid like you got to trade with us for?"

Cassandra grinned, showing a missing tooth. "I'm not trading. I'm giving. You'll need it where you're going."

Nathaniel's voice dropped low. "And where's that?"

She pointed into the storm, her little finger fixed despite the wind. "Where the rain is loudest. That's where the big stuff hides."

A chill ran down Arwyn's spine, and not from the cold. The shell pulsed in her hand, faint but alive, and the rain seemed to drum harder, like it agreed with her.

"Anyway!" Cassandra held a cheerful voice, barely audible from the loud rain. "Wanna come to my mother's house? I'm sure she'll help you guys out! It's just down that way." Her small finger pointed towards the north-west, slightly avoiding the storm but moving towards it.

Arwyn's brows arched in confusion. "You'd help us?"

"Why not? My mother is really nice. You guys should go and talk with her. She's brewing some coffee right now, I think."

Nathaniel stepped in. "Sure, kid. We accept your invitation." He reached in his pocket and brought out a piece of paper that he'd found in a dumpster back in Runar and a pen he'd always had back on Earth. "Ever heard of the Blue-Haired Boy?"

"Nope! Who's that?"

Nathaniel chuckled, despite the paper he brought out quickly getting damp and wet. "That's me. Whenever you stroll across somewhere populated, show my signature to assert dominance. It works, trust me kid." He signed the piece of paper and gave it to Cassandra with an assuring smirk. "Now let's go to your mother's house before we all get a cold."

"Alright! Follow me please!" Cassandra led the way, and her steps kept splattering mud all over. The three of them didn't want to complain, since the kid was having his freedom, though the mud was splashing towards them, and it spattered their clothes in brown, wet dirt.

The rain never softened. It kept going and going as they walked and walked. Then she started to recite a poem out loud as they strolled, in which the three of them were not familiar with.

"Water gods above, they weep and sing," Cassandra's voice piped up, small but clear over the storm. "Bless the ground with every spring. Drops to drink, to grow, to play. Rain's our life, it's here to stay."

Arwyn glanced at Nathaniel, raising an eyebrow. "She's… cheerful about this."

"Sounds like a prayer," Nathaniel muttered, tucking his back-up damp paper back into his pocket as Cassandra clutched the one he signed tightly. "Or a lullaby."

Santina smirked, shaking water from her hair. "Kid's got a better attitude than us. I'm soaked and cranky."

Cassandra kept going, her bare feet slapping puddles like it was a game. "Gods of flood, they guard our home. Feed the fields where water roams. Bless us deep, from sky to vein. We thank you for the endless rain."

The words bounced along, simple and rhythmic, like she'd sung them a thousand times. Arwyn couldn't help but feel the weight behind them. He wondered what kind of gods let a kid wander alone in a storm, but Cassandra didn't seem to mind. She skipped ahead, unbothered, her cloak flapping like a soggy flag.

The fog thinned as they crested a low hill, and there it was. A house, squat and sturdy, hunched against the rain like it had grown out of the mud. Its roof sloped sharp, shedding water in heavy streams, and around it sprawled a farm unlike anything Arwyn had seen. Fields stretched out, dotted with plants that thrived in the wet. 

Thick, rubbery leaves glistened, some curling into cups that held pools of rainwater. Vines twisted up stakes, heavy with bulbous fruit that shimmered faintly, like the butterflies from earlier. Their pens held strange, slick creatures, with their skin almost translucent. It sloshed through shallow ponds that never seemed to overflow despite the rain.

Cassandra pointed proudly. "That's home! We grow water meat and sell it."

"Water meat?" Arwyn echoed, squinting at the pens. The animals looked like fish crossed with pigs, grunting softly as they rolled in the muck.

"Yeah!" Cassandra grinned. "Tastes better when it's wet. You'll see."

Santina wiped rain from her face, muttering. "If it's slimy, I'm out."

Nathaniel smirked, studying the farm. "Smart setup. Everything's built for this weather. Your mom's got a knack for it."

"She's the best," Cassandra said, then darted toward the house, waving them along. "Come on! She'll like you!"

The trio trudged after her, boots sinking into the sodden ground. The rain hammered down, relentless, but the farm felt alive in it. The plants swayed, the water meat splashed, and the house stood firm, a beacon in the storm.

Cassandra shoved the door open with a muddy hand, her small frame bursting inside. "Mama! I brought friends!"

Arwyn stepped in behind her, shaking water from his hair like a dog. The air hit him first, warm and thick with the smell of brewing coffee and something earthy, maybe the damp wood of the walls. The room was small, cluttered but cozy. A table sat in the center, piled with jars of preserved fruit and a few cracked mugs. Shelves lined the walls, stuffed with tools and trinkets, all worn but cared for. A fire crackled in a stone hearth, its glow bouncing off the rough beams overhead.

A woman stood at the counter, her back to them, stirring a pot with slow, steady motions. Her hair was dark like Cassandra's, pulled into a loose braid that swung as she turned.

Orabelle.

She froze when she saw them, her spoon clattering against the pot's edge. Her eyes widened, flicking from Cassandra to the three dripping strangers in her doorway.

"Who… what's this?" Her voice was sharp at first, edged with surprise. She wiped her hands on a rag, stepping forward with a frown. "Cassandra, you can't just drag folks in here without a word!"

"They're nice, Mama!" Cassandra piped up, hopping onto a stool. "They had a fire, but the rain got it. I gave 'em my shell!"

Orabelle's frown softened, though her brow stayed furrowed. She looked them over, taking in Arwyn's muddy sketchbook, Santina's tense stance, and Nathaniel's calm smirk. Then she sighed, long and deep, like she'd seen stranger things than this. "Well, you're here now. Get in before you flood my floor."