Azia was partially convinced she'd misheard him altogether. It probably showed.

  "That’s not possible," she insisted.

  Seleth only flinched. “What?”

  “And, given everything you’ve told me, I’m shocked you even know what a sunflower is. It’s the same with the fish, now that I’m thinking about it. Nobody here said anything to you, right?”

  He shook his head. Azia gripped the edges of the journal tighter than she should’ve, digging her fingernails into the material. “How do you…know about those?”

  It took Seleth time to pick up his gaze off the covers, and yet longer to offer it to her. “It’s like I said,” he murmured. “I remember some things. Just not all of them.”

  Azia’s heart skipped a beat. “How can you possibly remember something from 6,000 years ago?”

  “I know that I keep saying ‘I don’t know,’” he answered weakly, “but I really, seriously don’t know.”

  Azia’s heart skipped too many beats, in truth. It was starting to hurt. “What else do you remember? Even small stuff. Anything.”

  Seleth hesitated for long enough that the same heartbeat grew audible. She wondered if he could hear it. When he spoke, she could barely hear him, in turn. “I remember warm things. Cold things. Bright things. Colorful things. Feelings, mostly. I can’t…put them into words. I know that’s vague, sorry. I can’t explain the other stuff. It’s just there. I don’t even know what made me say it.”

  She’d forsaken the journal in favor of her own forearms, squeezing tightly. “I thought you had amnesia,” Azia said, stemming the tiniest waver in her voice. “I still think you might, a little bit, but…you have memories you’re not supposed to have. I don’t understand.”

  The softest smile Seleth could give her was strikingly warm. “How many times am I gonna have to hear that? I’m your little anomaly. That’s to be expected.”

  She couldn’t smile back. The implications were heavy, and they soaked into her blood like boiling lead. It was all Azia could do not to tremble. If she asked him nicely, she wondered if he’d offer up his purity and cleanse what anxieties poisoned her veins.

  “Can I have a turn?”

  Azia blinked several times over. Nodding took effort. “Y-Yeah.”

  Seleth’s soft voice replaced his soft smile, just as heavy as her soul. “6,000 years ago, right? What actually happened? What…started all of this?”

  She’d promised Yvette she’d get to that one, eventually. It would take time, regardless. Azia did what she could to steady her churning blood, straightening up. “I…6,000 years ago, the sun--”

  The blaring siren that cut her off thrice over was loud enough to stop her heart. She jumped, and Seleth did the same. Azia nearly fell off the bed in the process, her eyes shooting to the door. Muffling wood was absolutely useless. Steady and deafening, every pounding burst of the alarm beyond almost left her dizzy. Azia didn’t dare move, and she didn’t dare speak.

  “Attention. Precipitation identified within one mile of the northeastern boundary. Estimated time to Downfall is approximately two minutes. All certified dispatch units are to report directly to--”

  “What’s going on?” Seleth asked hurriedly.

  “Hush!” Azia hissed, throwing one stifling palm behind her.

  “--remain indoors and seek a fortified place of safety. Severity is Tier Two. Close all open windows, and do not--”

  “Damn it,” Azia muttered, leaping to her feet.

  Seleth followed her urgency with anxious eyes. “What?”

  Blasting warnings or not, she’d already begun the dive into what enveloping oranges could shield her skin. “Give me a second.”

  Seleth trailed each zipper up, and he trailed a shining glaive as Azia snatched it from the rack. Where she’d traded comfortable clothes for sturdy materials, he didn’t trade an ounce of distress for anything calmer. He could’ve been worse about it, granted. He, too, was on his feet.

  “No, seriously, what is all of this?” he insisted, his eyes drifting uselessly to the ceiling. Unseen or not, the same cycling siren still viciously stung the air.

  Azia thought to leave him behind, and one hand was already wrapped around the doorknob. The other clung ever tighter to the shaft of the polearm, stamped firmly against the carpet. Eventually, she sighed, releasing the knob altogether. With her free hand, she adjusted her scarf, batting away what straying hairs she could. She only offered a fleeting glance over her shoulder. If the strain on Seleth’s face meant anything, it was enough for him to get the idea.

  “6,000 years ago, we lost everything,” Azia said through gritted teeth. “I’ll show you what we got, instead.”

  It was an immense relief that he picked up on the gravity of the situation as fast as he did, whether or not he understood it in full. Seleth kept up with her, their footsteps in unison pounding against every tile all the way there. Beneath the endless scream of the cyclic alarm overhead, their hurried flight was splendidly overshadowed. It briefly occurred to Azia that this would be his first impression of so many halls yet unseen. She made a mental note to give him a proper tour of the Institute later.

  “Where are we going?” Seleth asked, never slowing his stride.

  Azia was borderline breathless as she ran. Even so, she did what she could. “Different exit. I haven’t taken you this way yet.”

  “No, like, where are we going?” he pressed. “Tell me what’s happening.”

  There was no point in counting down for two minutes. She was probably already late. “It’s Raining.”

  Whether or not she could see his face, she could hear the disbelief in his voice. “What? The hell do you mean it’s raining? You and what water?”

  “Not that kind of rain,” Azia clarified. “You’ll see.”

  “I thought you guys didn’t have that anymore.”

  “We don’t. Again, it’s not what you’re thinking of.”

  Seleth didn’t press. Azia was grateful for the reprieve, particularly given the approaching doors. She hit them with far too much force, practically slamming her shoulder against the hefty wood. With two hands full of impatient violence, she hardly had a choice.

  They gave way to heavy air, and heavy air came bound to stolen light. Azia didn’t expect sunshine in the first place, ablaze and unforgiving as it so often was. Where daylight had once blessed placid sands, only plentiful toxins soaked into the earth. Already, the darkened sky had cursed her with poison, murky browns pounding against her suit. She did what she could to pull her scarf tighter, grimacing as stray droplets battered her cheeks.

  It dawned on her far too late that she’d brought no reprieve for Seleth, condemning him to the putrid downpour. Azia didn’t dare raise her eyes to the broken clouds above, and she’d already gauged the severity the hard way--the residual portion, at least. It was all she could do to apologize, if not to consider urging him back inside after all. She didn’t expect the bubbles.

  Seleth’s hands were above his head almost instantly, and his rippling purity was once more spread wide. It was a veil Azia hadn’t yet seen, a draping sheet unlike that which he’d offered up at Dissertation. Speckled mist challenged that which was far more noxious, a variable shield that blessed a sky so cursed. Where skilled fingers came down, it stretched in turn.

  Safe beneath wavering blue, Seleth held fast to his own umbrella aloft. It was beautifully distracting, if not astonishingly effective. Every bullet of polluted liquid that beat down upon his shining canopy was useless, succumbing to waters far purer instantly. Not one breached his stream, and not one touched his head.

  Seleth caught her staring. He smirked, if not only in the slightest. Azia couldn’t particularly pinpoint her relief.

  “Azia!”

  Her head snapped to the right, and what pounding footsteps drew near were--reluctantly--enough to steal her attention from crystalline veils. Gripping the glaive yet tighter was instinctive. “Mikhail,” she acknowledged simply.

  He was hardly breathless when he stopped at her side, his own polearm plunging into the sand beneath. “Nice of you to join us. Glad you managed to squeeze this into your schedule.”

  His banter was irrelevant. “They didn’t predict this one, did they?”

  “Nope,” the alchemist said plainly, one hand settling onto his hip. “So much for the jet stream thing.”

  Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.

  “It usually works,” Azia muttered. “Who’s out here?”

  “Favio, Taika, Ven, Lila, Pacifica, Rebecca, Yvette--”

  “Where’s Yvette?”

  “A little to the west.”

  “Anybody else?”

  “I didn’t count everyone yet. Where’s Kassy?”

  “Sheltering, I’d assume. I didn’t see her before I came out.”

  Mikhail peered over her shoulder. “Is that the guy from Dissemination?”

  With his hands still more than occupied, Seleth didn’t have the room to wave. At the very least, he grinned. Mikhail returned the favor, if not weaker.

  “Leave him be,” Azia insisted. “Focus.”

  “Fiiiine,” he groaned playfully, grasping his weapon with care. “You need me at all?”

  “How far are you going from here?”

  “I’ll be nearby. There’s more people coming, anyway. You’ll have adjacent support. If you need backup, just call for it, and we’ll come running.”

  “It wasn’t predicted,” Azia mused aloud. “Are we running with the normal estimate? Duration-wise?”

  “Someone started the timer already. What was the last one?”

  “Six minutes.”

  Mikhail brushed dripping bangs out of his eyes half-heartedly. “Wanna place your bets?”

  “I want to get this over with,” Azia growled. “Has Downfall started yet?”

  He didn’t answer with his words. The tip of his glaive speared beyond the horizon, and Azia found what she was looking for.

  What didn’t stain the sands below rose to bar her path. There were no eyes to meet, and yet she’d assume them to be vile all the same. Droplets grew strong, sometimes, and strength bore the most heinous of toxins. Brackish browns were a threat by their silhouettes alone, unstable and wavering or otherwise.

  Today, they were consistent enough, rarely content to slough into liquid disgust. Azia hated comparing them to anything adjacent to human. Her throat was shielded enough by insulated defenses, and dripping appendages would have to earn the right to wrap around her neck.

  She counted them, her eyes tapping silently upon each filthy figure in turn. There were no less than five--directly ahead, at least. It was to say nothing of whatever flanked the east and west, by which she could already hear shouts and effort. Faceless poison stared her down. Azia stared back, outnumbered or not.

  “You sure you don’t want help?” Mikhail prodded.

  Azia shook her head. “I can take five. It’s Standard. I’ll be fine.”

  “That’s still a lot. Don’t get cocky,” he chided.

  “I know what I’m doing,” she snapped. “I’ve got it.”

  Mikhail shrugged. “Suit yourself. I’m on your right, within earshot. If you need help, don’t hesitate.”

  “I know.”

  He gave her a playful salute. “Good luck.”

  Azia didn’t return so much as a smile. His footsteps on shuffling sands were a relief, in truth. Her eyes were strictly forward, locked onto the soiled silhouettes all too near for her liking. They were most definitely moving. She leveled her glaive with the worst of toxins.

  “Azia?”

  Seleth’s voice was hesitant. She couldn’t afford to offer him her attention, and her gaze stayed only ahead. He didn’t relent. “Are those…people?”

  She was just as hesitant. “Not even slightly.”

  “Then…what am I looking at?”

  Discarded liquids splashed onto the earth with every unnatural step. Azia tensed. “Precipitation.”

  And Seleth’s words, too, were just as tense. “Precipitation?” he echoed.

  She nodded, with or without eye contact. “When it Rains, this is what we get. It’s not always the case, but it happens far too often. It doesn’t rain in the way you’re thinking of. Rain, Precipitation, call it whatever you want. It’s toxic, it’s disgusting, and it’s deadly.”

  “It’s harmful?” she heard.

  “It’ll kill you, if you let it.”

  “Then…what do you do?”

  Not once had Azia lowered the spearing blade, nor had she stolen back her gaze. It was all she could do to double down, bracing against the soaked sands. “We don’t let it,” she said plainly.

  There was almost a temptation to face him, by which the sight of his pure waters alone would’ve eased her heart. Instead, she was left only to face that which left her ill. “Azia,” Seleth began, his words just barely touched by anxiety.

  “Don’t move. Stay right here, and do what you’re doing. Watch,” she ordered.

  Azia expected him to tease as to her tone, in truth. When she earned the same protests, it was a shock. “But--”

  “This is what I do,” she insisted. “This is what we do. This is what we’re trained for. Trust me.”

  Seleth was hesitant once more. “Alright,” he finally conceded.

  It was almost a vote of confidence. Azia hated to admit that she enjoyed it.

  She was faster. She always was, at this severity. Outnumbered or not, speed was on her side, and the rushing pollution that sought to tear her apart was hard-pressed to keep up. By no means was it easy. Still, her skillful dash against ruined sands left her bearing down on sickness fivefold. Azia’s pounding heart oozed adrenaline alone, and she found no fear in her veins. Stable as they were, she doubted she’d have to hold her breath--for now.

  False hands, born of liquid malice, swiped at her suit. The disgusting smudges that trailed along the material never failed to unsettle her, abundant and dripping as they were. From so near, she was cursed with a different bubbling than that which she’d grown to enjoy, slow and impeded.

  Like sludge, it boiled, nauseating her by the sound alone. Azia much, much preferred what purity had seen fit to grace her ears as of late. Brackish fingers reached for her neck, and putrid air stung her eyes. Not once did she stop moving.

  Robbed of the light above, there was little beneath which metal could shine. It didn’t stop her hands, and it didn’t stop her from lashing out. She was careful in her approach, and yet more in her targeting. Murky liquids caught only her blade, snagging against the edge of the glaive as she slashed at wavering wrists.

  Sometimes, she wished they’d scream. It was better than what vile bubbling would come to greet her instead, and it would give merit to a form so sickeningly human. They deserved pain, regardless. Azia swung harder, and she fought to give them all she could offer.

  Severed hands hardly counted as such, born of fake showers as they were. They plopped helplessly into the sand, filthy puddles splashing and speckling her boots. They weren’t gone for long, regardless, and Azia already knew it would turn out that way. From a blackened sky, an assailant less than human reclaimed the same, malevolent droplets pooling where a glaive had so recently slashed.

  Where she’d cleaved was irrelevant. If Azia could simply cleave the clouds themselves in two, she would throw her glaive into the dark. For now, this was what she had. It wasn’t where she was aiming, anyway. It was, at least, what kept her from choking to death.

  She did it again. She did so several times over, for how quick fingers bore down on her in sequence. Those which didn’t grip her throat would come to grasp her face, and she hated to imagine whatever would come next. Azia stole them all, one by one, twisting a weapon forged to exorcize disgust. It was reflexive, by which her muscles had long since learned to predict what research couldn’t. It was before her, it scratched at her, it beat against her clothes and it sprayed against her skin. That was enough to react to.

  And when she had her opening, seized with caution, she lined up her strike with steady hands. What the sky could restore, she could outmatch. A blade so humble plunged deep into poisoned browns, carving a path to the clouds above as she shredded absent flesh. Azia felt the swirling resistance, all the same. The desperate lunge that left false hands on a collision course with her face meant little. They didn’t exist for long.

  She’d always hated that part. What was hardly a human burst into showering sickness, splattering against her clothes and soaking her boots. She’d have to do the same four more times, rupturing toxins in the worst way. It never failed to make her nauseous. If nothing else, it had mostly spared her skin--although she doubted she’d stay clean forever.

  With a cry of effort, Azia found the leeway to do the same twice over. Again, a dancing glaive dove deep into murky liquid, and she jerked the weapon high. The blade tore through that which passed as a skull, bursting free with an unsettling splash. She earned the same surrender, exploding toxins stinging the earth. This time, her cheeks didn’t escape collateral damage. The tiny pang of tingling discomfort was annoying. Aggression made for a solid distraction.

  Thrice more she lunged, and thrice more she hit her mark. Not one noxious assault reached her in full. Every movement was natural, and every opponent was useless. Inhuman as they were, she refused to believe them to be anything but. Azia crushed what spiraling pressures she found in filthy depths, tailored metal serving her well. She wasn’t quite untouchable--they most definitely touched her, although never in the vulnerable places that mattered. She got close enough. Under a black sky, her blood boiled more than they did.

  She didn’t bother counting how long it took. She’d hardly registered that it was over to begin with, her suit drenched and her surroundings saturated. It was only in the absence of thickened bubbling that she found reprieve, left with only the gentle hiss of weaker droplets above. Azia slammed the base of the glaive deep into the wet sands, softly battling for her breath.

  Her eyes drifted left. Her eyes drifted right. There was commotion, distantly, although not as loud as before. She found nothing more in her vicinity--alchemists or enemies alike. She found the faintest crack of sunlight, at least, peeking through clouds that gave way in the slightest. Then, and only then, did she let out the quietest sigh of relief.

  Azia kept her peace for longer than she’d expected. In truth, she’d forgotten she’d had an audience, unwilling or otherwise. She turned to face a boy she’d left behind, still shielded by loving sprays of tranquil crystal above. His eyes were wide, and he barely moved. Even now, he did little more than stare.

  “Damn,” Seleth finally mumbled, his trembling voice hardly within earshot.

  He was breathless in a different way. She could hear it in one word alone. It wasn’t the best time to wonder if he ever felt fear, provided that was what it was at all. Azia thought to offer what reassuring smile she could, if that was the case.

  “That was…kind of hot.”

  She changed her mind quickly enough.

  Berating him wasn’t worth it. She was, honestly, interested in the timing. Azia made a mental note to ask which alchemist had bothered to keep track, given that there was no room to count the seconds in the heat of battle. Pouring droplets slowly stemmed to a steady trickle, teasing her hood and rolling down her bulky sleeves. She doubted she’d earn the full blessing of the sun instantly. For now, she was grateful enough for a reprieve from the downpour.

  What liquid saw fit to tickle the sands surrendered at last. Azia welcomed the brief silence with open arms, marred by streaking pollution as she still was. Sweat had mixed with scattered toxins, and wiping both from her brow was uncomfortable. What shouts she’d once heard had since fallen silent, much the same. Mikhail never did come back for her. That was probably for the best.

  The calm she’d earned was shattered by a siren she loathed, although in a way somewhat more tolerable. It was distant, softened by the gap between her sandy battlefield and the Institute behind. The same bursting screeches rang staccato, serrated in threes and high-pitched as ever.

  Azia embraced it, content to let the blaring noise smother every last echoing bubble that still lingered in her ears. In time with true sunlight, then, slowly blooming across a freed sky overhead, Azia traded one calm for another.

  Seleth’s head snapped over his shoulder, worried eyes cast to the building behind. “Wait, again?”

  “It’s the ‘all clear’ signal,” Azia reassured. “It’s over. Don’t worry.”

  He still had his glimmering veil overhead. Only now did he see fit to set it free, relaxing fingers unraveling his misty streams to nothing. “You said that happens a lot?”

  Azia sighed. “More than it should. This is the most we can do, for now.”

  When Seleth was quiet, she continued. “I’m sorry. I wanted you to see how bad things really get. Maybe this was too much.”

  He waved his hands defensively. “No, no, this was…very informative. It, uh, explains a few things. About last night, especially.”

  Azia averted her gaze, fidgeting with the hem of her scarf. “I thought you were one of them,” she confessed.

  “I get how you almost kicked my ass, now,” Seleth said with a grin far too familiar. “Almost.”

  Azia rolled her eyes. “Not what I was referring to.”

  He laughed. In the wake of sounds more disgusting, it was pure. It matched the rest of him. The contrast was jarring, and the sight of his tranquil streams alone had sufficed to challenge the sky. It was one more way that Seleth was out of place, an anomaly amongst yet more anomalies. Given the choice between the two, Azia would always choose him.

  Given a greater choice, she’d keep Seleth away from it forever. For how special he truly was, the idea of sky-born poison staining him made Azia feel ill. Protecting precious blues wouldn’t be hard. She was already perfect at protecting so much else.