Cold bit through Chuami's dress the second she left the airship. Rain fell in a light drizzle that began to soak her hair immediately. The sky was obscured by solid black and grey cloud and there was a stillness in the air that made her cautious, somehow, as if something were watching her. A faint echo of distant thunder hinted at a storm on the way, but Chuami had a more pressing problem.
The closest the airship could drop her was on a piece of what she assumed was once a pathway through the upper levels of Baaj Temple. It was barely a few feet long - only just enough for the teleporter to aim for - and she was surrounded by water on all sides.
Gripping her staff as tightly as she could, she swung it forward, almost hesitantly. She felt an indescribable pull from within that she wasn't sure she'd ever get used to; the water in front of her moved, surged, seemed to gather itself, then it fell still once again.
I wonder... if...
There wasn't a choice. If she wanted to make a path for the centre of the ruins, this was the only way. The ship couldn't get closer, and she couldn't swim. So...
She repeated the water spell, and this time, before it could die, she took a half-step forward and let her foot rest on the surface of the water. It seemed like... it might hold.
It would have to.
Though her heart was beating like a hummingbird's wings against all her orders for it to stop, she cast again; and this time, she took a deep breath and moved.
Once she was over the water, there was no going back or she'd drown. One cast, two, three, every staff-swing creating the path forward as the one behind dissolved.
As she reached the other side, she almost thought she wouldn't make it. Her staff flashed, reflecting a bolt of silent lightning overhead and she lost her footing and instinctively threw herself forward toward the rock ledge ahead. She fell just within its reach, scraping her arm on the mossy stone and clawing at it with both hands to keep from falling back into the depths - both hands?!
She turned back to the water on her hands and knees just in time to snatch her staff back as it drifted downwards. It seemed to resist - was something caught on it? She yanked it hard and a sahagin's fin cut the water's surface, its angry little face seeming even more affronted than usual. She gave it a brisk tap on the head with the end of her staff and sent it darting away.
Swimming through the submerged corridors was beyond her capability, so Chuami's only option was to climb through a hole in the wall that was already slippery with rain. A few of the bricks felt precarious; but she made it inside and came out on a circular walkway around the edge of a dome-shaped interior. More of these walkways were above and below, and far below her position, the tiled floor was covered in water, debris and the remains of long-dead camp fires. She was soaking wet, freezing and exhausted. It had taken her a grand total of twenty minutes to break the promise she'd made to herself to get home unscathed, for once.
