Azia would never deny that Seleth's grin was a catalyst for aggravation. Still, for one moment alone, something else outdid it altogether. The irritation she was left with guided reluctant words, and she’d probably regret them later.

  “Seleth.”

  He had his posture back, perfectly steadied against the sand and readied with still hands. Again were his eyes solely on an overly-confident researcher. “What’s up?”

  Azia inhaled. She exhaled. Her sharp gaze pinned the same girl in turn. “You’re an idiot for entertaining her. If you’re going to accept a challenge this stupid, you better damn well win. Understand?”

  She didn’t bother assessing her tone, nor the specific language she’d settled on. Frustration came first. The way his infinite grin grew poisoned with something disturbingly satisfied was outright unsettling. Ultimately, aquamarine overshadowed it one thousand times over.

  She’d seen it exactly twice, and in circumstances far more harrowing. It had been resplendent, the most gorgeous glow that crowned pure composure. There was determination in there, somewhere, buried in inexplicable luminescence. When proud eyes met her own, they were bright in more ways than one. Azia’s breath hitched in her throat.

  Water followed. She should’ve anticipated that much, and she watched as rippling blues erupted past his fingertips. Seleth’s patient streams swelled with grace, wavering and glistening in stark contrast to a desert so devoid of color. Just as always, the sight of his purity alone was refreshing. In tandem with radiant eyes, it made for a startlingly-effective threat.

  “Yes, ma’am,” he more or less purred.

  Azia didn’t have his beautiful gaze to herself for long. Klare lunged first.

  Precious purity meant nothing, apparently. The gap she herself had carved didn’t count for much. Klare dashed over uneven sands with skill and bore down on him with the same, brandishing the false glaive swiftly. For a moment, Azia questioned where she’d planned to aim at all--provided she wasn’t trying to severely injure him. The moment that Seleth’s head became a reasonable target, Azia wanted to strangle her.

  He tolerated nothing. He didn’t so much as doff his grin, nor did his eyes surrender the same luminous shimmer. Seleth’s hands came up, and his tides came down. Versus vicious sickness, it was a fraction of the violence he could’ve opted for. Still, gushing waters slammed into the wooden blade fiercely enough to leave Klare stumbling--briefly or otherwise. Had Azia not known better, she wouldn’t have been opposed to the idea that Seleth had caught the weapon with his bare hands. Molded by his masterful touch as every little river was, he may as well have.

  Klare’s eyes widened in the aftermath of the blow. It took her a moment to regain her footing, and yet a moment more to find an opening. When she swung again, she opted for his neck. Again was she impeded by the same, fast streams rushing to entangle the blade. In lieu of flesh, she crashed into water, sending sprays of stray droplets splattering against her shirt.

  Seleth’s bubbling defenses were flawless, if not solely repulsive. They were more than enough for Klare to grit her teeth--in annoyance, if her face was anything to go by. Where she twisted the weapon sharply left, instead, Seleth followed along without hesitation.

  Wood faltered in the face of glimmering waters, guided by hands that never slowed. How much of it took conscious effort on his part was debatable, by which each miniature current was an extension of himself. Seleth shaped each one with love and gifted them with fervor, beating back a glaive aiming squarely at his throat. He flowed just as perfectly as what purity he held. Klare didn’t take her eyes off of him, if not secondary to focused offenses. Azia couldn’t look away for another reason altogether.

  “Wow,” Cailin breathed. “He’s…amazing.”

  Kassy clasped her hands together excitedly. “That’s so cool! It’s almost like he’s dancing!”

  It wasn’t the descriptor Azia would’ve settled on. Still, his fluid motions were undeniable. “His eyes are…glowing.”

  Whether or not she was transfixed by the same watery defenses, she was at least vaguely aware of Cailin’s own gaze on her. “I thought I might’ve noticed the same. Is that normal?”

  Nothing was, with him. The sentiment wasn’t worth repeating. Azia tapped her pencil absentmindedly against the cover of her journal. “I’ve seen him fight twice before. It happened both of those times, too. I’m starting to wonder if it’s related to him fighting, somehow. It doesn’t happen when he’s just…making his water normally.”

  In her peripheral vision, she could see Cailin’s attention return to the same hostile display. “I see. Whatever it is, it’s beautiful.”

  Azia was somewhat impressed that he was brave enough to say it out loud. She didn’t bother restraining a smirk. “Beautiful?”

  “I-I’m sorry. That didn’t come out right. Please don’t tell him I said that,” Cailin stammered.

  She laughed. “I won’t.”

  “You watched him fight twice? I know about the Thunderstorm, but when was the other time?” Kassy asked. “I thought you said this was the first time besides the Rain.”

  Azia tensed. “Shouldn’t you be cheering for Klare? I don’t think she’s doing too well.”

  It wasn’t a lie, whether or not she was deflecting. No amount of thrusting, slashing, or swiping left violent wood so much as grazing Seleth. If anything, he’d hardly bothered to retaliate at all, content to soak up her blows and return rushing waves. The soft indents of his shoes in the sand were the only indicator that he’d moved since they’d begun.

  Several steps backwards had spoken to something more than a retreat, and what room he’d claimed to work with was plenty. Even from a distance, the frothy sounds of swift waters as they countered each assault were audible. The only noise that outmatched repulsive bubbles was the growling of a researcher.

  “Seriously?” Klare snapped, somewhat breathless as she lunged at him once more.

  She went for his stomach, bending her knees and spearing the tip of the blade low instead. She wasn’t faster than his hands by any means. Skillful flicks of his fingers saw bursting tides capture the edge, and erupting purity left droplets scattering across her glasses. At the very least, she didn’t stumble. “Seriously,” Seleth echoed, his grin just as aglow as his eyes.

  Klare had grown too comfortable with his insistence on tolerance. When Seleth did fight back, it was absolutely her fault for standing so close. What gorgeous rivers he’d woven from nothing were effective weapons of their own, submissive to his command and well-trained on a faltering researcher.

  Seleth swept one arm along the length of their tiny, arid gap, replacing stagnant air with chilling aggression. Water followed, as Azia had known it would. In place of punches or genuine blocks, open palms offered up the greatest barehanded offenses he could ask for. It was a combat style she couldn’t wrap her head around.

  Whatever it was, it worked. Azia had felt the same gushing pressure barrel into her arms, once. Now, it slammed into Klare’s stomach instead. The force wasn’t even slightly enough to leave her crying out, and Azia doubted that it genuinely hurt. Still, the look of shock on her face was unmistakable. Seleth raised his arm high, slashed his hand down, and assailed her body with more of the shimmering same. No amount of desperate blocking with a humble glaive was helping, for how surging tides circumvented the wood with ease.

  “You can do it, Klare!” Kassy cried, cupping her hands around her mouth.

  “No she can’t,” Azia mumbled. “Look at him.”

  She wasn’t afraid to admit it. She refused to be proud of him, although there was a sick satisfaction that came with Klare reaping what she’d sown. Seleth’s grin was much too brilliant, given the circumstances. It was Klare whose sandy footprints were damning, speckled by discarded mist as she stole evasive steps in reverse. Where she found room to fight back, Seleth was waiting.

  Between watery blows, Klare swung the polearm sharply sideways, aligning the wood with his side. Again, too, did she fail, one curling fist more than enough to drag guardian tides to his aid. Seleth’s rippling shield was thick and perfect, leaving the blade plunging into stalling blues. When Klare did cry out at last, it was in exasperation alone.

  Azia hadn’t taken a single note since he’d crafted his first bubble. Seleth’s fluid motions and flawless purity were mesmerizing, if not still inexplicable. Whatever she could steal with her eyes would be faster than attempting to write. Part of her did genuinely entertain the idea of encouraging Klare, if not solely to stretch their spontaneous quarrel for the slightest bit longer. That would entail admitting that she was interested, let alone grateful for the concept. She ultimately bit her tongue.

  “If this is what he’s capable of against a combat-certified researcher, I can only imagine what he can do to Precipitation,” Cailin said.

  “He beat all of it by himself!” Kassy answered. “Nobody had to help him during the Thunderstorm.”

  Azia smiled, still fixated on the fight alone. “He knows. He’ll get to see it again tomorrow, anyway. All of us will. It’ll be a bit different from last time, though.”

  “I’m not particularly disappointed over the concept of missing a Thunderstorm,” Cailin added, “but I do regret not getting to witness him in action. I read the Dissemination report. He’s incredibly fascinating.”

  “Call him an anomaly. He likes it now, apparently,” Azia joked.

  Cailin laughed softly. “You’re still researching him, correct?”

  “Yeah. There’s a lot I don’t know. There’s a lot he doesn’t even know about himself.”

  The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

  Cailin’s voice caught something puzzled. “What do you mean?”

  She was distracted, somewhat. Every forward movement left water advancing along with Seleth. Azia was, once more, having trouble telling where he ended and where it began, almost indistinguishable from his touch. For how Klare pitifully resisted his splashing offenses again and again, Azia was confident that he could easily steal her balance--if he wanted to.

  There was a non-zero chance that Seleth was drawing this out. She wasn’t as irritated about the concept as she could’ve been. Azia was content to watch careful fingers bring the weight of his tides smashing down onto Klare’s shoulders once more.

  “He’s got a lot going on,” Azia continued, crossing her arms as she propped one foot against the wall. “That’s part of why I brought him here to begin with. I wanted everyone else to know he existed. I can’t figure him out on my own, let alone what he means for us. I’m still exploring my options a little. I’ll take whatever help I can get. I’m probably going to need more than one journal, at some point.”

  “I see,” Cailin repeated. “If I can think of anything you haven’t tried yet, I’d be happy to help. I feel like there’s quite a bit you could glean from watching him fight Precipitation again.”

  Azia smirked. “I really don’t want to say yes. I’m still not the biggest fan of that plan.”

  He wasn’t wrong. Really, it was a better idea than whatever Klare had proposed today. She was, with certainty, paying the price for it. Shoulders so recently cursed by pressing waters were heaving in earnest. Azia couldn’t tell whether it was sweat or stolen droplets that beaded down her cheeks. Either way, she was red, she was panting, and she was livid. The fact that she was still swatting at Seleth with the same sloppy slashes and strikes was simultaneously impressive and humorous.

  “What is wrong with you?” Klare cried.

  A lot of things, really. It was probably for the best that Seleth answered of his own accord. “You wanted me to fight. I’m fighting. Is this not what you expected?”

  “Not really, no!”

  She jabbed at his thigh. She hit only blue, interloping and low as it stilled the blade yet again. His breaths were even, his grin eternal. It might’ve been brighter, actually, and it paired perfectly with his eyes--still brilliantly aglow as they were. How Seleth’s gaze wasn’t outright disorienting to the researcher was beyond Azia. “I mean, I’m having fun.”

  Klare’s own eyes, by comparison, harbored only frustration. “Damn it!” she screamed.

  She went lower, sweeping the blade along the length of the frazzled sands. It wasn’t enough to catch Seleth’s ankles, despite her best efforts. Jumping would’ve been enough, probably, if not simply sidestepping or reversing. He was flashy about it. That much wasn’t new. Apparently, he was solidly acrobatic.

  Tumbling on sand, of all surfaces, couldn’t have been simple. Seleth cast himself backwards onto awaiting hands, inverting twice over as ankles so recently targeted instead cleared his head. The darkened patches of beige he left in his wake were uniform and specifically-shaped, if not marred by Klare’s urgent footsteps moments later.

  Whether or not soaking the earth was a reflex remained to be seen, given how much else was instinctive. Either he was shockingly adaptable, or he was lying about his combat history. Azia believed either one.

  When Seleth landed on his feet, he did so with grace, bouncing on his heels and reclaiming bubbling violence with ease. Surprise made for a spectacular impediment. For a moment, Klare froze, staring incredulously at a far-too-competent anomaly. Seleth was still smiling. Between the two of them, Azia hadn’t expected him to be having more fun than his cocky opponent. It was probably her fault for expecting anything from him at all.

  He seized the lull Klare had so readily handed to him. Confident fingers came up, and he brought gushing blues with him. Seleth’s streams were much faster than Klare, by which no amount of evasion would’ve helped her. The rush of purity once more grew wrapped around the glaive, slipping between the cracks of her fingers and capturing even her wrists. From nothing, Seleth wove the most fluid of bindings, clinging to a weapon so distant from his palms. It hardly mattered. Where Klare’s wrists were useless, Seleth's own were more than sufficient.

  The quickest flick of his hands, calculated as the movement was, saw the polearm torn clean from Klare’s grip. Bursting pressure was too much to bear, her fingers rapidly unfurling as she once more staggered in reverse. Surrender came with a cry of shock. A cry of shock, too, came with a glaive spiraling gracelessly into the clear sky above.

  Sand did her in. Klare lost her footing in the wake of the sudden blast, collapsing to the earth with a thump that left Azia’s tailbone aching by proxy. There was a brief moment where Azia feared for wood that had at last begun to descend, hurtling towards the ground concerningly fast. Klare’s wide eyes pierced Seleth alone. Seleth, in turn, gave his attention only to a spinning weapon.

  Glistening blues challenged skies yet bluer, and he reached for what he’d be hard-pressed to catch with his hands alone. Water met wood first, tangling around the shaft at a speed Azia could barely keep up with. Where his fingers curled inwards, he was a magnet for stolen violence, reclaiming winding rivers in time with the glaive. Only when it was securely in Seleth’s grasp rather than uncontrolled above did Azia breathe a mild sigh of relief.

  It was his first time holding one, if she remembered correctly--false or not. He still took the descending momentum well, stilling haphazard spirals with half-hearted flair. Again, it was more dramatic than anything.

  “I can see why you like this thing,” Seleth said, spearing the base into the saturated sands below.

  Klare narrowed her eyes. “You’re not normal.”

  Victory made his grin infinitely worse. “I thought we’d established that a long time ago.”

  “What the hell was all of that?” she asked, her tone somewhere between aggravated and baffled.

  There was no reason for him to release the glaive so freely. Azia chalked it up to cockiness. It tipped forward, slowly but surely, colliding pitifully with the earth. The tip missed Klare, at least, albeit not by much. “You’re the one who wanted to fight.”

  “Klaaare!”

  Azia didn’t realize Kassy was missing until it was too late, surrendering her shaded companion in favor of sandals pounding against unstable sands. She almost stumbled on her way to the researcher no less than three times. That much wasn’t new. “You did so good! That was amazing!”

  “I lost, Kassy! Don’t make fun of me!”

  Klare was amply soaked herself. Kassy ended up much the same, more or less lunging for a girl bound to the earth as she embraced the researcher. “But you still fought so hard, and I’m so proud of you!”

  “Get off of me! How am I supposed to get up?”

  “You’re so cool!”

  “Kassy, I’m serious!”

  Azia didn’t bother intervening--nor would it have helped. Her eyes drifted to an equally-useless Seleth, left to do little more than witness Kassy’s nonconsensual comfort. His hands fell to his hips, his waters long since rescinded. The tiniest part of Azia lamented it.

  She had her turn with his gaze, eventually. When he met her eyes, his own were no longer luminous. They were still rich, as gorgeously colorful as she’d learned them to be. Even so, glowing aquamarine was lost. That, too, was somewhat of a shame. Seleth compensated with a grin that glowed twice as bright.

  “You can clap now,” he teased.

  Azia gestured to a tormented researcher with a journal long since neglected. “Frankly, if you lost to her, I would’ve tossed you back into the desert.”

  Seleth laughed. “You’ll have a little faith in me next time, now, won’t you?”

  “There won’t be a next time, because you better not be entertaining this with her again,” she scolded, spearing the tip of her pencil in his direction.

  When Seleth made for the comfort of shade, Azia caught sight of him in full. He really was hardly fatigued, burdened by only the slightest hint of sweat pricking his face. His hair could’ve fared better, granted, although she’d always found it messy enough.

  One of those was of interest. Azia motioned to his face with the same pencil. “You’re sweating. Is that--”

  “You already know what it is. This isn’t hard.”

  She smirked. “It’s new. Excuse me for asking.”

  It was somewhat rude of him to sneak his way in between herself and Cailin, reclining against shady masonry alongside them. Azia didn’t bother scolding him over it. She was beginning to become convinced that he saved his finger guns for Cailin alone. “You owe me stars.”

  Cailin beamed. “That I do. Congratulations. I still would’ve shown you whatever you would’ve liked, you know.”

  “Yeah, but this was more fun,” Seleth said with a shrug. “Felt like I earned it. Did you like watchin’?”

  He nodded. “You were phenomenal. Just hearing the details secondhand doesn’t do it justice. To see everything that you can truly, actually do is…nothing short of spectacular. You really are a hydrogenetic anomaly.”

  Seleth blinked. His eyes flickered to Azia, for a moment. “Okay, he added a bigger word.”

  The laugh was a reflex. “It’s not exactly a bad term. I’ll think about keeping it.”

  It took effort for Cailin to lean past the boy between them, meeting Azia’s gaze himself. “Did you learn anything new from watching him fight?”

  “A lot, actually,” Azia confessed. “I didn’t write any of it down, but there were quite a few things I’ve never seen before. I’ll try to get my thoughts straight on paper later.”

  Seleth rested his hands behind his head. “I’m kinda full of surprises,” he offered to the astronomer alone. “They’re always getting somethin’ or another out of me. It’s honestly pretty fun.”

  “Azia said she’s still planning more ways to research you, right?” Cailin asked.

  “There’s a few I’d be very open to trying, if she’s taking suggestions.”

  “Hush,” Azia hissed. Ideally, he would save his perversion for anywhere except in front of Cailin.

  Seleth only chuckled. “But to answer your question, yes. I’m just along for the ride, at this point.”

  “Which I’m grateful for,” Azia said through gritted teeth, “provided you’re normal about it.”

  A chuckle became a laugh of his own. “Be nice to me. I won for you.”

  Azia rolled her eyes, albeit with a smile she couldn’t restrain. Seleth’s grin only fueled it. She didn’t hate the feeling.

  Cailin’s smile was softer, if not still well-paired with satisfied company. “Have you thought about taking him to the Religious Institute?”

  Blue skies above and warm smiles be damned, Azia’s world screeched to a halt.

  Seleth turned to the boy. “Religious Institute?”

  It came to a standstill fast enough to leave her dizzy, her stomach churning in the wake of the sudden stop.

  Cailin nodded once more. “I’m going to assume you both haven’t gone yet.”

  Wide eyes shot to two sisters, still distantly tangled and innocently bickering.

  “It’s not absurdly far, to be honest. You have options, if you want.”

  Azia’s only blessing came in the form of earshot so preciously preserved. A poisoned anomaly, by comparison, was a curse she couldn’t remove.

  “Tenaveris Desert borders two oceans. Technically, the Faric Religious Institute is closer to here. Still, it’d be easier to get to the Resel--”

  “Cailin,” Azia began slowly, her voice shaking, “what time do the stars start coming out?”

  He paused, tilting his head. “I…around seven o’clock is when they’re first visible, usually, but they become brighter around nine. Did you…hear what I said about the--”

  “Not interested,” she interrupted. “Do you mind if I come look at the stars later, too? We won’t stay late, I promise.”

  Azia hoped and prayed that Seleth would shatter the weighted silence with jeering. She prayed he’d accept deflection with grace, if nothing else. When he only gazed at her wordlessly, she held breaths she didn’t have.

  Cailin took far too long to respond. He did so without a smile, more puzzled than anything. “You’re always welcome up there. You don’t…have to ask. I’d be more than happy to show you.”

  Seleth was still staring. Azia cut off any sentence that dared to settle onto his lips. “And you better be on your best behavior this time. Don’t start touching things you’re not supposed to. Got it?”

  Hunting for a grin he didn’t have by default felt abnormal. Azia also prayed that Seleth couldn’t see balled fists trembling, nor hear how faulty exhales rattled. She hated that she couldn’t hide it in the first place.

  He was sharp. Azia doubted that he was wholly ignorant. Still, if he noticed her distress, he said nothing. Only when Seleth finally offered up the soft grin she’d hoped for did Azia embrace flooding relief. “Whatever you say.”

  She gave him a moment to relent, to change his mind and dip curiosity in venom. He never did. Not a trace of hesitation crossed his face. Cailin was equally restrained, and talk of future starlight filled the shade instead. Seleth indulged it. Azia couldn’t. She sank into laughter and smiles that grew muffled, willing her skipping heartbeat to steady. It took more effort than she would’ve liked.

  Her eyes drifted to a researcher on her feet, aided against her will by a girl who clung to her arm for dear life. There, too, were smiles--brilliantly sunny and in stark contrast to bitter thoughts. Azia stared. She stared for longer than she should’ve. She stared for long enough that she feared they’d notice.

  It never came up again. In a perfect world, it would stay buried forever. Where Seleth had earned stars and Klare had earned humility, Azia earned chaotic company tainted by a suggestion all too innocent. Given how resistant she’d been to the endeavor at all, she appreciated the lighthearted atmosphere it had come with. For the sake of two girls and an anomaly, she’d hold it tight and keep it pure with all she had.

  The stars were nice, ultimately. Seleth deserved them. Even accustomed to his grin as Azia was, the shine in his eyes that night was a solid consolation prize of her own.