There had never been a point in her life at which Azia was unafraid of Rain. Fear was alleviated by power, somewhat, and more so by anticipation. She had both, given the glaive in her hands and a model that delivered splendidly.

  Cailin had been dead-on several times over since she’d arrived at the Institute. She doubted the only day that mattered would be any different. Even reflexively clinging to the usual pang of dread that came with predictable poison, her heartbeat was steady. She had purity to thank for that.

  Long before she’d set foot outside, and long before blaring sirens had battled to burst her eardrums, she made her peace with falling sickness to come. Azia still refused to let him shoulder the burden alone--whether or not he insisted on it. Seleth protested through every zipper she tugged at and every clink of metal on her back as she walked. He protested past the threshold, and he protested down the hall. He protested to the degree that she almost gave in, if not solely for the sake of shutting him up.

  “I’m starting to think you’re never gonna trust me,” Seleth joked. “Not sure how else I’m supposed to prove that I’m good.”

  He was following her footsteps far too closely. It took effort to outpace him, and yet more to temper her tone. “I already told you that I was gonna be prepared to back you up. You understand that I’m not going to be the only one armed, right? This was literally part of the plan.”

  “So nobody trusts me,” he mumbled with a shrug.

  Controlling her voice wasn’t working. “It has nothing to do with trust,” Azia snapped. “It has everything to do with the fact that you’re going up against Precipitation. By yourself, for the second time ever. With all due respect, you don’t exactly have a lot of experience dealing with it.”

  Seleth slipped his hands into his pockets as he walked. “I mean, it’s…what is it, Standard? That’s what it’s called, right? Isn’t that the one that’s not so bad?”

  At the very least, anticipation of the spectacle to come left less wandering eyes on Azia than usual. If the sirens still spared her, then she wasn’t yet racing clouds. So, too, was there no reason to race whoever had seen fit to leave the building already. She could chide Seleth in peace, if nothing else. “Rain is Rain. It’s never ‘not that bad,' Seleth. It kills people.”

  “You know what I’m trying to say. Compared to the Thunderstorm, I guess.”

  “Yeah, speaking of,” Azia added, adjusting the straps of her bag on her shoulders, “we can never prove that that’s not going to happen again. It wasn’t predicted last time. The forecast said Tier Two, and it ended up becoming Tier Three. Who’s to say that won’t happen today?”

  “I thought Thunderstorms were rare,” Seleth argued.

  “Rare. Not impossible. Point is, I’d rather be safe than sorry. All of us would.”

  When his eyes drifted down to a weapon comfortably lodged against his waistband, her own followed suit. “If it happens again, I can deal with it. Not a problem.”

  “I never want you to have to do that again in the first place,” Azia said. “Fighting off a Thunderstorm, pushing yourself that far, any of it. You’re not planning on using your blood for this, right? It would defeat the purpose.”

  She still wasn’t fond of the idea of him wounding himself to begin with, whether or not he’d been fine in the aftermath. She kept that much in her head. Seleth shook his own. “I know, I know. I’m just gonna do what I usually do. No little blood…current…thing necessary. I’ll get by without it.”

  Azia bit her lip. He had no way of saying so with certainty--for now. Only the feeling of a glaive jostling against her shoulders with every step offered any reassurance. If he was wrong, at least he wouldn’t be helpless. In the face of toxins so unpredictable, mortal strength was a fail-safe.

  Several days’ worth of navigational trial and error made finding the exits easier. The model wasn’t perfect, and neither was Cailin. An expert as he was, Azia trusted him anyway. If he’d indicated the southwestern quadrant, then she was unhesitant to follow. She was no less than fifteen minutes early, if memory served, and the sun hadn’t yet hit the apex of its climb. Clear skies or not, she had company regardless.

  Much of it was unfamiliar. She’d learned faces in passing, although she’d be hard-pressed to remember names. Clad in bulky reds and well-armed in turn, she was grateful that what few combat-certified units the Institute possessed had held up their end of the deal. Azia recognized a recent victim of an anomaly, hugged by the same thick materials. No amount of physical protection could hide the bitter glare that flickered in his direction.

  Seleth offered up a grin tinted with something smug. Klare wouldn’t so much as look him in the eyes. It was enough to get a smirk out of Azia, and no amount of biting her lip held it back.

  With or without the sun still bearing down overhead, Kassy was well-armed in another way entirely. When she threw her arms high with glee, Azia feared she’d launch the umbrella altogether. Somehow, her grip sufficed. “Yay, you’re here!”

  Seleth’s standard salute was perfectly scheduled. “Hey. You guys are early.”

  “Everyone is,” Klare added, her gaze still scraping the sand alone. “Nobody wanted to miss out.”

  Kassy swept the little umbrella wide across the throng of researchers. “They’re all here for you,” she said. “You’re really popular!”

  Seleth’s hands settled onto his hips as he followed her motions. “Is it that exciting? I’m not the shy type, but the idea of this much attention at once is gettin’ me a little flustered.”

  Azia strongly, strongly doubted it would take him long to begin showing off. She wasn’t even positive that he would wait until Downfall, on that front. If sunshine didn’t fuel him, attention would. “You’ll be fine,” she muttered.

  His eyes touched upon every idle glaive in turn, bound harmlessly to backs and snug between bulky reds. Sparse as his backup was, he wasn’t quite encircled by support. Still, there were enough armed researchers to warrant the same irritating doubts. Seleth gestured vaguely in the direction of those who were certified. “They’re gonna give me space, right?”

  “We just talked about this. How many times do I need to say it?” Azia growled. “You’re not invincible! Quit acting like it!”

  If her words were biting in any capacity, it didn’t show. Already, still blessed by ample sunshine, he was stretching. “I’m aware. Doesn’t mean I’m not competent. I know what I’m capable of.”

  Azia’s eyes flickered left. She checked the right, so soon after. At the very least, Rae wasn’t immediately around to hear her berating an anomaly so precious. Two sisters were irrelevant. “This isn’t a game. Precipitation isn’t a game. Stop screwing around and take this seriously.”

  Seleth grinned, cracking his knuckles over his head. “I am taking this seri--”

  “No you’re not.”

  The same grin slipped for a brief moment. Azia hoped whatever glare she was hitting him with stung. It wasn’t quite piercing, from what she could feel of it. Regardless, she fought to make it burn. “Don’t you dare treat this like it’s something fun. Precipitation kills people. People have died to it, Seleth, and you’re out here pissed off that everyone just wants to keep you safe? Get over yourself. You’re strong. I’m not gonna argue with that. You’re strong, but you’re not perfect. The sooner you come to terms with that, the better.”

  She was vaguely aware of two sets of eyes uncomfortably clinging to her from so near. Neither a researcher nor a librarian said a word, bound by an awkward silence born of hostility. Seleth, too, was quiet. Azia knew him well enough to know he wouldn’t stay that way. If he argued back, he might’ve been justified. She still wasn’t sorry.

  By no means did she expect him to smile. It was far from condescending, let alone dripping with the aggravating bravado she’d grown used to. Azia could count the number of times he’d offered up an expression so soft on her hands alone. In truth, it was enough to make her flinch.

  “I’m not here to screw around,” Seleth said gently, “I’m here to prove a point.”

  It was Azia’s turn for silence. He exploited it, still stretching all the while. “I don’t think it’s the same thing you guys are trying to prove. Either way, I won’t mess it up. Trust me.”

  Finding her words was difficult, both in the wake of venom and in the face of his gentle smile. “What are you…trying to prove, then?”

  Azia didn’t expect him to wink at her, either. In the midst of flexing his fingers with precision and care again, soft words grew tainted with confidence. Devoid of a true grin, it was an odd combination. “I’ll tell you once I pull it off.”

  Pressing was tempting. She couldn’t find the drive, particularly as Seleth reclaimed a sparkling grin she’d come to expect. He gave it to Klare, of all people, throwing his attention over his shoulder as he pulled his muscles taut. “When is this supposed to start, again?”

  Klare made the effort to meet his gaze. That was progress. “Any minute now, really. I promise, you can’t miss it. If you get overwhelmed, by the way, just tell us. Wave, or something. Some kind of signal.”

  He’d moved on to his ankles, rotating carefully in sequence. “I won’t.”

  Klare raised an eyebrow. “You won’t get overwhelmed, or you won’t tell us?”

  Seleth’s grin was worse when pointed at a researcher. Azia appreciated being spared of it, at least. “I just won’t,” he teased.

  “You won’t what?”

  He shrugged. “You know.”

  “I don’t!” Klare growled.

  “Might be a little bit stronger than you. Just a little,” Seleth said, pinching his fingers together in a gesture just as teasing. “Not sure how much good it would do me.”

  Klare’s hand was a magnet for her glaive. So, too, was her scowl a reflex in the face of a smug grin. “Forget the Rain! I’ll kick your ass myself!”

  “You sure?”

  “Keep talking, I swear to God,” she growled, with or without a librarian preemptively clinging to her arm.

  “Azia, help,” Kassy whined, casting pleading eyes to the alchemist.

  Her gaze never made it all the way there. An umbrella lowered out of need for mediation traded places with a different one altogether. It was calm, still, as patient as the boy who rested below it. For now, he found refuge only from pouring sunlight.

  He never called out to her, although his eyes were settled neatly on the quarrel at her side. Distant and uninvolved, Azia wondered how long he’d been watching. She wondered how long he’d worn his gentle smile, more suited to starlight than a confident anomaly.

  She never called out to him, either. Their gazes met, at least. He stiffened beneath hers, for whatever reason, and he just barely rescinded his own for a moment. Even so, she returned the same smile, motioning for his company. When shyness traded places with the satisfaction of camaraderie, Azia was just as happy. The way his expression brightened wasn’t lost on her.

  “Where have you been?” she pressed.

  Cailin shrank somewhat under the shade of the little umbrella. “I didn’t want to intrude. I figured you were all occupied.”

  “You never have to ask,” Azia offered, crossing her arms. “You’re pretty much the most important person here today. Can’t imagine we’d get a lot of meaningful research done without you.”

  “Seriously?” Seleth muttered, not quite devoid of a smirk.

  “I know what I said.”

  Cailin’s laugh was nice, soft as ever. He waved. “Hello, Seleth.”

  Seleth’s hands fell to his hips. “Was wonderin’ where the hell you were. You ready for this?”

  A singular nod was enough of a response, still paired with a smile as it was. As Azia had come to expect, the contrast against a grin far brighter was jarring. “Good,” Seleth said plainly.

  “I’m cheering for the Rain,” Klare grumbled.

  Cailin’s eyes flickered to her, briefly--confused as they were. The minute she made to berate Seleth further, a librarian took her place. “What are you gonna research?”

  A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

  “As much as I can,” Cailin answered. “I learned quite a bit from that sparring match, but Precipitation is a different story. I still regret that I wasn’t there to witness the Thunderstorm, given everything I heard about it. I imagine it was incre--”

  He bit his tongue, his expression instantly twisting into something strained. When his grip tightened around the handle of the umbrella, his fervent discomfort was practically radiant. He cast his eyes into the sand. “I mean, I’m not trying to say that it was a...good thing. I’m sorry. I hope that’s not how it came out. I just...”

  He earned no reproach. If he had, from a researcher who’d suffered beneath the storm or otherwise, Azia would’ve given the same reproach right back. A meteorologist as he was, elation was his right. The sooner he doffed whatever mixed flavors of guilt he harbored, the better.

  “Hey.”

  Azia never got to say as much. Seleth beat her to it, albeit with slightly more confidence than was necessary--for her, maybe. For Cailin, it might’ve been just enough. Seleth’s fingers fell beneath the boy’s chin, and he reclaimed a guilty gaze by force. Cailin flinched under his touch alone, tolerant or otherwise.

  If ever he’d been curious about dynamic aquamarine, this was surely his first true taste of it. Seleth’s grin, at least, was absolutely familiar to him, sparkling from far too near. “Research everything you want. I’m gonna put on one hell of a show for you. Don’t take your eyes off me, okay?”

  Cailin was quiet, content to drink in shimmering blues and the reassurance they harbored. Even now, he was terrifically tense around the little umbrella. “I-I…okay,” he mumbled, his voice nearly inaudible.

  Seleth withdrew his touch, eternally clinging to the same satisfied grin. “Good,” he repeated.

  The hint of scarlet that crept across Cailin’s cheeks in the aftermath wasn’t lost on Azia. She stifled a laugh. Whether or not they’d grown close enough for her to tease him about it was debatable, at this point. If Seleth saw it, he said nothing.

  He was mostly preoccupied with Azia, granted, one finger half-heartedly leveling with her from afar. “You better be watching me, too. I’m doing this for you.”

  Azia scoffed. “And you better take this seriously. Seleth, this wasn’t even my idea in the first--”

  Distracted as she’d been by banter far lighter and skies far clearer, the screaming sirens behind made her jump. She wasn’t alone, in terms of her fright, and even Seleth was startled by the same. From outside, if nothing else, it was muffled in the slightest. It didn’t fully stem the wails of the alarm, by which cycling cries rolled through the Institute at her back and spilled well into the desert.

  Beneath every painful screech, she swore she caught the softest prayer. It was just as repetitive, fast and desperate in its own way. Azia’s eyes drifted to the left. Cailin’s weren’t even open, whispered pleas tumbling from his lips instead.

  "Attention. Precipitation identified within one-half mile of the southwestern boundary."

  The accompanying warning was audible from afar, granted, once more impeded by thick walls and distance. Above all else, she was impressed with the accuracy of Cailin’s directional forecast. It spared her the trouble of sprinting across the Institute. More than that, it was a borderline breakthrough.

  "Estimated time to Downfall is approximately five minutes."

  He’d been correct twice over, given his forewarning average. That, too, was impressive. Azia turned to him with praise on her lips in earnest. “Hey, nice work with the--”

  “Please, please, please, please, please.”

  She blinked. She was still robbed of Cailin’s gaze and hardly privy to his voice, his eyes squeezed tightly shut and his grasp around the umbrella forged of iron. If she peered closely enough, she could catch crossed fingers on both hands, just as unbending. He was shaking.

  "All certified dispatch units are to report directly to the southern quadrant for suppression operations. Cease all outdoor operations and locate--"

  “Please, please, please, please, please,” he begged.

  Azia considered reaching for him. “Cailin?” she asked softly.

  "Seek a fortified place of safety."

  “Please, please, please, please.”

  “Cailin, what’s wrong?” Azia pressed, extending one hand towards his shoulder.

  "Severity is Tier Two. Close all open windows, and do not exit the--"

  Every muscle in Cailin’s body relaxed almost simultaneously. The exhale he released was heavy enough that Azia wondered if he would collapse. Only now did she realize how fervently he’d been trembling in the first place, pleas dissolving into fragmented prayers of gratitude. A smile probably wasn’t her greatest course of action, given every pained emotion that followed the boy’s glowing distress. Still, for what relief he’d earned, it was a reflex.

  Azia thought to rescind her offered touch. It landed on Cailin’s shoulder anyway, and she rubbed gently. “Nicely done,” she finally praised. “Flawless. All of it.”

  When Cailin’s eyes opened at last, the lingering fear she found was nearly heartbreaking. “I-I…”

  He trailed off. She was no Seleth. Even so, Azia fought what doubts he had left with contagious confidence of her own. “You’re a damn good meteorologist. Have a little faith in that, alright?”

  It took time to earn the tiniest smile. When she got it, she resolved not to let it go. It was her one and only blessing in the face of impending Rain.

  She’d expected Seleth to call Cailin out on his anxieties, in truth, attentive as he was to the boy. Instead, Seleth’s attention rose solely into the skies above, drifting beyond what he could reach and delving into clouds he should’ve loathed. In his defense, he’d never seen the birth of poison before. To Azia’s chagrin, they’d always been late for that part.

  It wasn’t as though she ever enjoyed seeing it to begin with, on her own time. Azure daylight surrendered to gray, and gray gave way to tumbling black. By no means was it instant. Still, she could’ve sworn she’d blinked, trading a spotless sky for a clouded sea all too quickly.

  Long before the first droplets of poison incarnate fell from on high to curse the world, the murky atmosphere was enough to leave her heart pounding painfully. Safety was irrelevant, as were her intents. Fear was a reflex.

  Seleth’s gaze was swallowed by the same, swirling clouds confiscating purity they didn’t deserve. In an opaque world marred by useless beige and vicious gray, Azia eagerly awaited the moment rippling aquamarine would cut through misery itself. Robbed of the sunshine he loved, Seleth clung to calm. His hands slipped into his pockets, and he simply shrugged.

  “Damn, that was fast,” he observed aloud, never pulling his eyes down from the tumbling storm in wait.

  "Estimated time to Downfall is approximately four minutes."

  Muted or not, the warning was somewhat audible. Azia appreciated it. Seleth cast his eyes in the general direction of the Institute beyond her shoulder. “What’s Downfall? I feel like I’ve heard that before.”

  Cailin was, logically, the best person to answer. Azia appreciated it, and she appreciated his simple language yet more. “It’s the period of time where Precipitation spawns. It’s not always the same length between instances of Rain. When it ends, so does the Rain itself.”

  Seleth cocked his head. “Huh. So, I have to keep fighting until that part’s over?”

  It was Azia who nodded instead. “And we don’t know how long it’ll take. Could be five minutes. Could be a whole lot longer than that.”

  His grin was in clear disregard to words of caution. “Fine by me. I’m up for a challenge.”

  "Estimated time to Downfall is approximately three minutes."

  A voice alongside ever-present sirens accompanied droplets. Droplets were unwelcome, as would always be the case--anomaly or not. Azia felt them before she saw them, tiny specks of wetness peppering her hands and grazing her cheeks. She pulled her hood snugly over her scarf, difficult as the effort was.

  Only now did she fear for her lingering blisters, doomed to be beaten upon by descending poison for however long this would take. She’d pay for research with swelling and burns, probably. At this rate, they’d never heal.

  Hesitant droplets were no longer hesitant, eventually. They doubled, tripled, poured from rupturing clouds and cursed the earth in full. Murky toxins battered her suit, splashing onto her boots and nestling into sandy puddles.

  Azia’s eyes darted right, and she was relieved to find a librarian dry beneath the safety of a shielding canopy. She brought Klare with her, actually, guardian reds be damned. Beaming as she was in the midst of spilling filth, it was the only sunshine Azia could find in the storm.

  When the Rain above saw fit to spare her, she was initially baffled. Crashing droplets grew muffled, sparing her head and ignoring her skin. Not one more fell to blight her face. She raised her eyes and found only black, curved and comfortable. When Azia turned her head, she was equally comfortable with a smile shared under a little canopy.

  She returned it in silence. Cailin inched closer to her, steadying the umbrella above them in tandem. His companionship alone was preferential to whatever her gear could offer.

  Azia was somewhat used to Seleth’s own defenses against sickness from on high. Waters that rivaled disgust weren’t unexpected. He managed with one hand alone, the other still lazily lodged in his pocket. Unhurried fingers wove mists from nothing, resplendent and shimmering as they challenged the Rain. He bore his sparkling shield with little effort, and Azia was relieved to see each speck of brown fizzle pitifully as they smashed into splendorous blues. Beneath his own barrier of purity, Seleth’s eyes followed the same.

  “This stuff isn’t supposed to touch me, right?” he asked.

  “It’s not good for you,” Kassy reminded. “It can make you sick.”

  “Can it make him sick? Look who we’re talking about,” Klare interrupted, gesturing towards the boy. “Maybe he’s different. God knows if he can even get Precipratory Sepsis.”

  Her eyes shot to Azia’s. Azia shrugged. Her words were for Seleth, mostly. “I don’t particularly want to find out, either way. It won’t kill you at this tier, if that’s what you’re asking. Still, it’s not great. Don’t get it in your eyes, or anything. Ideally, this doesn’t take too long.”

  “Understood,” Seleth said, tracing half-hearted shapes within his glistening veil. Still effective as it was, Azia hated that the resulting ripples were gorgeous. They were unnecessary. She wasn’t fully convinced that he was focusing, in truth.

  "Estimated time to Downfall is approximately two minutes."

  “I should’ve given him gear,” Azia muttered to her sheltered companion. “I’m an idiot for sending him out there without any protection. I don’t think he can keep up that shield thing the whole time he’s fighting. He didn’t bother with it last time.”

  “He can…block it out,” Cailin answered quietly.

  It wasn’t the response she’d expected. Azia turned to him instead. “What?”

  Even as he spoke to her, Cailin’s eyes were adrift somewhere in the thin tides that guarded an anomaly. “The Rain. It doesn’t penetrate his water. He can stop it. Is it…disintegrating?”

  Azia followed the path of his gaze, whether or not she’d seen the same several times over. “I think it does.”

  Cailin said nothing more. Instead, he only stared. Azia didn’t press him.

  “You know, technically, there’s a right way to do this,” Klare offered, shifting her weight onto one foot. “I have a feeling you’re just gonna do whatever the hell you want, though.”

  Seleth finally tore his eyes from rolling clouds beyond purity, handing his attention to the researcher. “Yeah? Right way to do what?”

  “To fight the Rain,” Klare said. “Precipitation has weaknesses. You can aim for those. Dunno if you can get to them with your water, though.”

  He raised an eyebrow. “What, just hitting them isn’t enough?”

  “They’re called storm cores,” Azia interrupted. Vague motions below her diaphragm were the closest comparison she could give, and she tapped her fingers beneath her ribs carefully. “They’re around here, sort of. Pressurized. If you hit one, you’ll feel it. It’s how Precipitation retains its form. Disrupt that, and you can destroy it. That’s what we usually do.”

  Seleth slowly tilted his head in the opposite direction. “I didn’t have to do that last time.”

  Azia grimaced. “I know. That’s…one of the reasons we’re out here. None of us know why.”

  “He doesn’t have to disrupt the cores?” Cailin asked incredulously, his head snapping towards her far too fast.

  Azia dragged the tip of her boot along a winding puddle. “I don’t think he aimed for anything last time. Everywhere he hit was enough. He just…did it.”

  “Like I said, Cailin. Eyes on me,” Seleth teased, his grin glimmering in sync with his personal veil. “You’re smart as hell. You’ll figure somethin’ out.”

  Praise was a catalyst for a blush, apparently. Cailin still smiled, regardless. “I-I’ll do my best.”

  "Estimated time to Downfall is approximately one minute."

  By no means had Azia been ignoring the countdown. Neither had Seleth. His eyes once more darted over her shoulder, touching the Institute in passing. When he stole them back, it took time for Azia to realize how many more he’d brought along with him.

  As to how long so many wandering gazes had been pinned to the anomaly, she didn’t dare guess. He always drew too much attention to begin with--if not by the blessings of his existence, then by his bold personality alone. Azia knew he’d take it in stride.

  She was exceedingly correct. The moment he identified every set of expectant eyes upon him, he was more or less aglow. Well before poisonous silhouettes had come to curse the horizon, Seleth had already taken steps into the open desert. He left them at his back and embraced a sprawling plain of soaked sands, claiming a battlefield forged for one person alone. Not once did his grin falter, nor did he show the slightest hint of worry under pressure.

  “It’s been a minute, right?” Seleth called, throwing his eyes over his shoulder. “I counted. What am I looking for?”

  Klare only raised one pointed finger, aimed squarely beyond him. “That.”

  The coagulation was always the worst part. Azia despised the bubbling, if not simply the sloshing pollution that clotted into false forms. Every aspect of poison born from a storm was revolting. It didn’t matter that she was immune to the sound, distant as she was. It didn’t matter that, hypothetically, she would never come within arm’s reach of that which would choke her out and strike her down. Seleth would deal with it in her stead. The thought was awful.

  It was awful enough for her hand to drift towards her back, a magnet for a glaive that had become a reflex. Only when Cailin’s palm settled atop her shoulder did Azia still. The role reversal wasn’t lost on her, and she didn’t resist his touch. He shook his head.

  “Let him fight,” Cailin reassured softly. “Trust him.”

  Azia gritted her teeth. “But--”

  “If he could genuinely conquer a Thunderstorm in the way I’ve been told he did,” Cailin went on, “then he can do this. He’ll be okay. Let’s both make the most of it.”

  His words should’ve helped. They did, somewhat, although not even slightly to the degree that Azia would’ve hoped for. Steadily-clustering toxins only fueled her anxiety, figures forged from pouring Rain rising to litter the horizon. Really, Seleth was just as distant as they were. That left him horrifically close to Precipitation, in turn. Her heartbeat was erratic, if not painful.

  No matter how many times she reminded herself of the severity, let alone his prowess, the knots in Azia’s stomach grew ever tighter. When Seleth lowered his hand from above, shattering a shielding veil, sparkles of mist were left to scatter amongst impure toxins. They were a rain far more welcome, if not short-lived.

  Sickening droplets quickly grew tangled in his hair, and Azia hated it. Once more, she kicked herself for not bringing him any variety of protection. Seleth withdrew his other hand from his pocket at last, his palms aloft and spread wide in tandem. In contrast, Azia resisted the urge to lock her own together in prayer.

  She counted six. There would, undoubtedly, be others. If her eyes drifted far enough to the left, Azia could already catch the first vestiges of yet more. For as many times as she’d been reminded of the Thunderstorm, there were outliers. Seleth’s skin was well-intact, and a little knife was sheathed on his hip. His allies were still, curious eyes glued to him instead. He was alone. It was, technically, his first personal encounter with Standard.

  “Seleth,” Azia called, her voice marred by fear.

  She hadn’t even realized his name was on her lips until after the fact. There were eyes on her, in turn--Cailin’s own, included. Still, no one berated her. They would’ve had little to berate, granted. Her doubts were justified. Were anyone to tell her to trust Rain, she’d strike at them herself.

  When Seleth turned his head, Azia had nothing to offer him. If she was instinctively delaying the inevitable, she would’ve believed it. Regardless, she couldn’t help it. She was grateful that she’d done so at all, for the glow that sank deep into her heart.

  It didn’t matter that it was distant. It didn’t matter that she had to share it. It didn’t matter that she’d seen it before, several times over and in the midst of aggression. Once more, aquamarine was luminous. Seleth’s gaze warmed her from afar, radiant and tranquil all at once. In the dull dark that was a rolling storm, he was a beacon. It wasn’t the first time that his grin was equally alight. He fixed her and her alone with both.

  His hands were still more than readied. Where sickening sludge bubbled, purity bubbled back. The tides born of his touch practically ignited, and he was a match stricken with the intent to purify. Fast as he was, Seleth could pass for the freshest of flames, an angel blessed with something far deadlier than water alone. It wasn’t as quick as what he’d torn straight from his blood. It got close.

  He embraced every last drop of blue that kissed his fingertips, wavering and calm in his skillful hands. Where she had Seleth’s face, she had full sight of the same. If the display was for her, gorgeous as it was, Azia wouldn’t have been surprised. She didn’t dare tear her eyes from his own. For a moment, he held fast to the same.

  When he finally spoke, the same grin was borderline explosive. “Watch me,” Seleth ordered.