Dissemination came early. Azia shouldn’t have been surprised about it.

  She hadn’t needed to tell Rae herself, apparently, although it made enough sense that word would’ve spread. Even without the presence of a scientific anomaly, the onset of a ferocious storm was cause enough for commotion. They’d only moved the meeting forward by several days to begin with. Given how much she’d be expected to present, Azia doubted anyone would have to worry about deadlines. She’d have the floor to herself. They could be grateful, in that way.

  Decompression came first. Azia took no less than four showers in the immediate aftermath. Given the time and opportunity, she would’ve bathed until she’d drained the Institute’s esua reservoirs altogether. Hours of scrubbing meant nothing. She could feel the dull burn permanently etched into her face.

  Her hands had fared poorly, by which creams were doing little to alleviate what rash had broken out. It was nothing short of a miracle that Kassy had hardly encountered the same, soaked as she’d been by pouring toxins. She’d suffered the pains of brushing clotted hair. Azia didn’t envy her, on that front.

  She was amazed that Klare had the energy to present to Dissemination at all. Stubbornness was stronger than pain. Given the researcher she was dealing with, Azia should’ve known better. The girl practically clawed her way to the lecture hall at daybreak, still cloaked in a shawl and startlingly pale.

  If she’d simply asked, Azia would’ve been happy to recount the highlights. She would’ve even been happy to force Seleth’s hand and grant the researcher a personal demonstration of watery blessings. Azia strongly, strongly doubted he would’ve objected. He had too much fun showing off as it was.

  Seleth was flashier about it, the second time. Azia didn’t bother stopping him. Technically, he’d earned the right. If pride was payment for every life in the room, she was fine with letting flecks of sailing droplets splatter against her cheeks as collateral. The smug grin on his face all the way through was oddly satisfying, anyway. She couldn’t pinpoint why she thought so in the first place.

  Any questions? he’d asked, utterly aglow beneath every mesmerized gaze.

  They had, in fact, had questions. Azia let him deal with that part.

  It gave her a solid fifteen minutes of respite. She gave half of that to a neglected journal and the remainder to the table, resting her forehead against the cool wood. The pressure was somewhat painful. Still, exhaustion was winning. For Seleth’s sake, she fought not to let it show. In truth, Azia was shocked that he showed no sign of the same. She could hardly see the scars in the first place, at a passing glance, despite how many times she’d fought to glimpse his arms since yesterday.

  When she raised her head, Seleth was still talking. That would probably never end. Even so, his voice alone was comforting. Within the walls of the Research Institute, it was the closest she’d come to something safe. Azia couldn’t pinpoint where she’d gotten that idea, either.

  “He’s really good at this,” Kassy whispered behind one hand.

  Azia lifted her head, against her better judgment. “You weren’t here the first time. He’s excellent under pressure, surprisingly.”

  Klare crossed her arms beneath her shawl. “He sure likes talking about himself.”

  Azia scoffed. “I don’t disagree.”

  In his defense, she’d probably contributed to that problem. She’d done nothing but push him to do the same since they’d met. It was as much of a blessing as it was a curse.

  “This is what you wanted me to wait for, huh?” Klare asked, gesturing lazily towards what curling blues ambled above Seleth’s head.

  Azia slumped in her seat with a sigh. “I mean, he’s doing a better job of explaining it than I would’ve. Is he making enough sense for you?”

  Klare propped her elbows up on the table, settling her cheeks into her palms. “Maybe I’m sicker than I thought, if this is what I’m seriously looking at right now. You thought I wouldn’t believe you? Is that why you didn’t say anything?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Good call. I wouldn’t have. I still don’t.”

  Azia smirked. “That’s fair.”

  “He’s really cool, though,” Kassy insisted with a smile, leaning towards the researcher. “Wait until you see it up close.”

  “Oh, it was up close,” Azia muttered.

  Klare tilted her head in the slightest, still comfortably lodged in her hands. “I don’t remember any of it. He really wiped out the Rain by himself?”

  Once again, Azia’s attention fell to her journal. It was useless attention, mostly, and her eyes lingered blankly on crowded pages. “Most of it. We still did our part, you know. All of us did.”

  “How’d he pull that off?”

  She paused. “I don’t…actually know. I haven’t figured it out yet.”

  She hadn’t gotten the chance to ask, either. For how tired she'd been, his bold slashes had gone unaddressed. Even so, Azia hadn’t erased the mental image, vivid and rushing as his tides had flowed.

  “Hey, Seleth!”

  She didn’t need to ask, apparently. The privilege was stolen from her.

  Azia’s head snapped to the right. Illness was irrelevant, and Klare had thrust her arm half-heartedly into the air. She flinched. “What are you doing?” Azia hissed in a whisper.

  Klare got his attention, ultimately. Rippling blues fizzled into nothing, and Seleth reclaimed his outstretched touch. “What’s up?” he called casually.

  She didn’t need to be loud, given the distance to the stage. She was anyway, and Klare’s volume almost hurt this early in the morning. Really, Azia was surprised she was strong enough to talk so firmly at all. “You took out the Thunderstorm by yourself, right?”

  Seleth slipped his hands into his pockets with a shrug. “You mean the Rain? Not all of it.”

  “But most of it, right?”

  He withdrew a hand soon enough, tipping it back and forth. “I guess? It just kept coming. It wasn’t that bad last time.”

  “Different tier,” Azia mumbled under her breath.

  Klare never specified that much. “How’d you do it?”

  Seleth grinned. The same hand swiftly inverted, and the bubbles that sprang from his fingertips were almost cocky. “How do you think?”

  “You shouldn’t have been able to touch them at all,” Klare pressed, immune to his confidence. “Enathium is the only thing that should work against Precipitation. Explain that.”

  His face fell, contorting into something confused. “Enathium?”

  “Synthesized metal that counters Precipitation,” Azia interrupted, straightening up in her seat. “The alchemists made it. It’s chemically engineered to disrupt their composition. Every glaive we use is made of it.”

  Klare side-eyed her almost disdainfully. It was her fault for not explaining. Azia had gotten Seleth accustomed to their mutual inquiry exchanges. Tearing the system out from under him felt unfair, somehow.

  The researcher continued, anyway. “Nothing else should work--nothing. We’ve tried absolutely everything. Why is your water different?”

  Seleth only stared at her from afar, for a moment. Eventually, he shrugged again. “I don’t know.”

  Azia elbowed Klare harshly in the side, less than regretful of the yelp of pain she earned. “How is he supposed to know that? That’s the whole point of him even being here. I barely know a damn thing about him.”

  Klare clicked her tongue in annoyance. Her attention fell back to Seleth. “You were just…able to attack them with your water? And it worked?”

  Blunt as the question was, he could still do little more than nod uselessly. “I mean, yeah.”

  “The knife.”

  Seleth’s eyes met Azia’s. She could’ve pressed him on it in private, logically. If the answer was of merit, she really, really didn’t want to have to re-explain it to those who cared.

  Seleth cocked his head in silence, never rescinding his gaze. Azia pushed. “The…what you did with the knife. I don’t understand why. I don’t even understand what happened, to be honest.”

  He got his grin back, brighter than before. He handed it to her alone. “Got the idea from that freaky apothecary, actually. You’re the one who said my blood was weird, right?”

  Azia stared, briefly. “What?”

  One hand settled onto his hip. The other remained aloft, still nurturing little bubbles with pride. “Not sure how to put this into words. I told you this before, but when I make my water, I feel this…'pulse,' I guess. Dunno how else to describe it. It’s inside, somewhere. Goes through me and comes out like this.”

  He sent his tiny ripples drifting for emphasis, carried on gentle motions of his fingers. “It takes a second, though. It’s not immediate, and I have to account for that. Besides, there’s only so much I can do on my own. I’m strong. I know you know that. Doesn’t mean I can take down everything. You guys kinda gave me a lot to deal with.”

  There was at least one subtle sentiment in there that left Azia considering the idea of storming the stage. As to what pain she would’ve publicly inflicted on Seleth when she got there, she was still debating. She hadn’t once considered demanding a rematch. It was the first time the idea crossed her mind, if he was going to be smug about it.

  “So, I had a thought. If it came from inside, maybe I could get what I needed faster,” he went on. “Maybe it would even be stronger. It had pressure to it, right? What’d you call it, again?”

  “A current,” Azia answered without hesitation. “Your blood is…like a current.”

  “Yeah. A current,” Seleth repeated, satisfied. “Point is, I was right. That ‘pulse’ I mentioned? It was basically instant. Got a bit dizzy afterwards, but all’s well that ends well.”

  Azia was quiet. “If…you’d just used your water like normal, would it still have worked?”

  His gaze drifted to his ambling droplets, drifting in their own way atop his palm. “Dunno. I think so. I didn’t want to risk it, so I just gave it everything I had.”

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  “Excuse me.”

  There’d been more than a moment where Azia had outright forgotten that she was in Dissemination at all, casual as the conversation had been. Rae’s voice was nearly enough to make her jump, even at a distance and even steeped in calm. Where Seleth had so perfectly captured his attention all along, it was Azia to whom his eyes finally fell. “Miss Azia, what are you referring to? This…‘knife’ you speak of. What happened?”

  She’d wondered if he’d been wrapped up in the Thunderstorm. That answered that, probably. If he wasn’t combat-certified, then it was one more contrast between him and Yvette. Azia cleared her throat, doing what she could to fill in the blanks.

  “During the storm, Seleth…cut himself. His blood is abnormal. I’ve seen it before, once. Somehow, he used it to fight. It was strong. It was stronger than any water I’ve ever seen him make. It…was enough for him to wipe out the Rain.”

  Rae nodded in silent understanding. When he finally spoke, his voice was still just as level. “I see. And am I understanding correctly in that the boy has never battled the Precipitation before?”

  Azia shook her head. “No, sir. That was only the second time he’s ever seen it at all.”

  Rae paused, raising a hand to his mouth thoughtfully. His eyes drifted between Seleth and Azia at least once. He took just long enough that Azia broke the tension herself, instinctive or otherwise. At what point she’d risen to her feet was debatable.

  “His blood works, then,” she began. “I still don’t know if he can fight without it.”

  Seleth and Rae eyed her in equal confusion. “What do you mean?” the latter pressed.

  There was nothing normal about him. Using the word in any capacity felt wrong. Azia did it anyway. “His ‘normal’ water--the kind he just made, I guess--is different from his blood. It doesn’t work the same way. If he fights the way he usually does, I don’t know if he’d be able to actually destroy the Precipitation. I don’t know if he’d be able to affect it at all, honestly.”

  She was immensely relieved when Rae didn’t press her on Seleth’s combat history, given that she shouldn’t have known of his skills at all. Even now, Azia refused to confess to their introductory quarrel. She’d take it to her grave, probably. “You raise a fair point. There’s a discrepancy, it seems.”

  “Just make him do it again,” Klare tried, leaning back much too far in her seat.

  Azia’s eyes snapped to her instead. “What?”

  The alchemist’s surprise was lost on her, and she only pulled her shawl tighter around her shoulders. “Make him fight the Rain again. Easy. Just don’t do the blood thing this time.”

  Azia stared at her incredulously. She couldn’t find words at all, for a moment. Whatever baffled gesture was born of her hands was a reflex.

  “You want to make him fight the Rain on purpose?” Kassy asked with soft surprise of her own.

  “Why would I put him in danger like that?” Azia hissed, just barely reining in her volume.

  Klare waved one dismissive hand. “He’ll be fine. I mean, damn, look at him. If it’s Tier Two, he can take it. Are we ever talking about that, by the way?”

  Her attention shot to a distant Rae. Crass phrasing or not, he was receptive to it. Seated as he was, he folded his hands neatly in his lap. “You refer to the Thunderstorm, Miss Klare?”

  She nodded. “Yeah. That was…rough.”

  Azia scoffed under her breath. That was an understatement. She took over for Klare not long after. “Did anyone time how long Downfall lasted for?”

  “Twenty minutes,” she heard amongst the sea of researchers.

  Unfamiliar voice or not, the number was more of a concern. Azia flinched. “Twenty? You’re sure?”

  “Positive.”

  Klare stretched, still precariously positioned in her chair. “Thank you, Joel,” she called somewhat condescendingly.

  “When was your last Thunderstorm?” Azia asked of the lead researcher.

  Rae sighed. “It surely predates my time at the Institute. In this part of Tenaveris, it was no time in the recent past. I would have to refer you to the archives, for that. Years, easily. Decades, perhaps.”

  Azia bit her lip. “You guys have been lucky.”

  “You have my gratitude for your aid in quelling the Precipitation,” Rae praised. “I truly apologize that you were forced to do so at all. I…offer my condolences for your experiences, as well.”

  Azia averted her eyes, clinging to somewhere just left of a far-off Seleth on the stage. “It comes with the territory, unfortunately. I knew what I signed up for when I got my combat certification. If that included Tier Three, it included Tier Three. I’m glad it’s happened as few times as it has, really. I’m glad I knew what to expect. Your ranks are…small.”

  The last part came out accusatory. It was unintentional. Azia was grateful when Rae took no offense, and she was shocked when he agreed. “Indeed. This may have been a call to action. I will look into increasing our certified dispatch units, if possible. I suppose we can’t rely on divine intervention forever.”

  He crafted a soft smile, sending it to Seleth. Even he seemed taken aback. Still, he returned the favor with a grin of his own. “Anytime,” Seleth joked. “Happy to help.”

  Azia earned his focus again. “Miss Azia, I would hazard a guess that you understand this boy better than I. For what purpose would an alchemist such as yourself seek the aid of the Research Institute?”

  “I’ve learned a lot, but not even slightly enough,” she confessed. “The more eyes I’ve got on this, the better. There’s still tests I need to do on my end, but the Research Division has resources that the alchemists don’t. I want options. I want opinions. I want to figure out who he is, and I want to figure out what this means for us. Given what you just saw, I’m sure you want the same.”

  “You’re talkin’ about me like I’m not here, you know,” Seleth teased, crossing his arms. “You guys share everything anyway, right?”

  Rae chuckled. “You’re not wrong, my boy.”

  “I won’t make you go out of your way for me,” Azia went on, “and I won’t ask for things you can’t do. That being said, I could…really use the help. That’s water. That’s real, actual water. This is the closest we’ve ever come.”

  Rae raised one stifling palm in a plea for quiet. “You need not beg, Miss Azia. You are welcome to our facilities, and our aid is yours. As always, our aims are mutual. Whatever you wish to pursue, we will seek to offer you the resources you require. You need only say the word.”

  She didn’t bother fighting her bursting smile. “Thank you so much. I promise I’ll share whatever I discover with you immediately. I’m happy to draft a report of my findings so far, if you’d like. There’s a solid amount that I’ve tested already.”

  “That would be splendid.”

  “Now he’s everybody’s science project,” Klare muttered with a smirk. “He seriously doesn’t eat?”

  “He uses sunshine,” Kassy whispered, whether or not she needed to.

  “That’s stupid.”

  “But it’s cool.”

  They were background noise, as were the murmurs of departing researchers. Azia still couldn’t pinpoint whether or not she was welcome. She was an alchemist amongst those who couldn’t identify as less of the same. Still, she’d fought on behalf of their lives. If any of them had qualms about her newfound research privileges, not one said a word to her on the way out.

  Seleth outright hopped down from the stage with enough abandon that Azia feared he’d hurt his ankles. He landed with a grunt and a grin, either way. “I think I’m gettin’ pretty good at this,” he bragged.

  Azia’s smile settled into something informal. “It saved me the trouble. Thanks for that.”

  His deep bow fell somewhere between dramatic and condescending. “My pleasure.”

  Klare’s best efforts to rise to her feet came with a stagger. Pushing her seat in didn’t help, and there was little she could do to hide her disorientation. With one hand pressed to her forehead, she still offered up the same strained sass. “Guess he really does…enjoy…talking about himself.”

  Kassy was at her side instantly, clinging to her arm as she dragged the girl into the aisle. “Be careful,” she half-scolded.

  “I’m fine,” Klare muttered.

  Seleth winced. “You okay?”

  “Did you take your pills?” Azia interrupted, tugging at the researcher’s other arm.

  Her grasp was loose, and Klare wriggled out of it immediately. “Yes, I took the damn pills. I was dizzy for two seconds. I’ll live. Everybody can get off of me now.”

  “Are you…sick, or something?” Seleth asked.

  Azia turned to him instead. “Precipratory Sepsis.”

  He cocked his head. “What?”

  She wasn’t even sure why she’d bothered to use the full term in the first place. “Rain Poisoning, for short. There’s some pretty gross side effects that come with being exposed to Rain for too long. Dealing with it up close doesn’t help.”

  “And we were up pretty freakin’ close,” Klare mumbled bitterly. “There’s at least seven other people who got sick. They’re worse off than me, to be fair. Sucks for them.”

  “That’s…not good,” Seleth said, rubbing the back of his neck. “How long does it take to go away?”

  Azia shrugged. “It depends. There’s medication, but we can only treat it symptomatically. We haven’t scraped together a true cure yet.”

  “Hurry up with that, will you?” Klare mumbled. “It’s not fun. Fix your damn face, while you’re at it.”

  Azia’s palm shot to her blisters, clustered and aching as they were. Even as Seleth flinched, she still smirked. “Rude.”

  “Don’t be mean,” Kassy scolded again, shaking Klare’s arm.

  “No, seriously, get off of me.”

  “I mean, I hope you feel better soon, I guess,” Seleth offered awkwardly. “Sorry I couldn’t…I dunno, intervene faster.”

  Klare’s face fell, as did Azia’s own. “No, this has nothing to do with you,” Klare reassured. “It’s happened before. It’s happened to Azia, too. We’re used to it. Hell, we expect it. I’ll be fine, I promise. You kicked enough ass out there, alright? Don’t do that to yourself. We owe you.”

  Her praise was rare. Pale and sweating or not, Klare’s firm words were warm. The tiny smile on Seleth’s face was as fragile as it was genuine. Azia thought to augment it, showering him with gratitude of her own--for whatever crass remarks that would earn her. It would still be preferable to the self-doubt in his eyes. She never made it that far.

  “So, forgive me when I say you should do it twice,” Klare went on, gesturing broadly at her anomalous savior.

  Her eyes drifted to Azia’s. Azia’s own narrowed in turn. “What are you talking about?”

  Klare’s grin was nothing if not exhausted. “I was serious about him fighting the Rain again. You don’t think it’d be a good opportunity to see what he’s got going on?”

  Azia pinched the bridge of her nose in exasperation. “Klare--”

  “Look, it’d be in a controlled environment, he’d have backup available, you know that he knows what he’s doing,” she listed, counting on her fingers, “and there’s a ton you could get out of watching. Hell, everyone, really. The odds of us having a Thunderstorm again are insanely small. If he could knock that out by himself, then he can definitely take down Standard alone.”

  “You’re actually an idiot,” Azia deadpanned.

  “He’s not gonna die,” Klare insisted. “I know for a fact that you’re curious.”

  “I’m not sending him out to deal with the Rain, by himself, on purpose.”

  “You worried about me?” Seleth teased with a grin far too sparkling.

  Azia groaned. The sentiment came through gritted teeth. “I don’t particularly want you to get hurt.”

  He was still precious. She couldn’t afford his suffering. Even so, he’d already established that he’d take the phrase as something more. Avoiding it was exceedingly difficult. It hardly mattered, and Seleth was aglow beneath her words regardless. Azia hated it.

  “I can do it. I’ll be alright,” he said, effectively beaming. “As long as you’re there to watch the show.”

  “It would defeat the purpose if I wasn’t,” Azia grumbled.

  The whole concept was miserable. She gave up on arguing, particularly given the way Klare’s own smile caught something much too satisfied. “There you have it. If he’s fine with that plan, then everything’s good. All in the name of research, right? You’re the one who brought him here.”

  She leveled one spearing finger with Azia from afar. The motion was quick enough that she stumbled backwards, once more kept steady only by a supportive sister at her side. The softest moan of disorientation was damning. Azia rolled her eyes.

  “Go lie down,” she ordered sharply. “You’re a mess.”

  “Oh my God, alright,” Klare surrendered, throwing her free arm high in exasperation. “You need to…get a forecast, or something. I have no clue when it’s supposed to Rain next. I’m tired.”

  “I still hate this idea.”

  “Whatever. Talk to Cailin. He’d know.”

  Azia eyed the researcher with caution as she swayed precariously. “Who’s Cailin?”

  Klare flicked one pointed finger towards the ceiling. “Guy who runs the observatory. It was Shouri, but he got sick of the place. Liked the stars. Hated the paperwork. Either way, Cailin handles most everything to do with Rain. He’s a meteorologist, too. Very talented.”

  Kassy’s palm settled into place against Klare’s forehead. “I think you have a fever.”

  “So?” Klare spat.

  “I’m worried about you,” the librarian said, bouncing on her heels slightly. “I’m gonna be your nurse for a while, okay?”

  Klare physically recoiled. It was almost enough for her to lose her balance again. “No the hell you’re not. What does that even consist of?”

  She would’ve been at risk of falling anyway, given the way Kassy was dragging her towards the door. “Do you still like potato soup? I’m gonna make you potato soup. And I’ll read you a bedtime story.”

  “It’s nine o’clock in the morning! That’s not even nursing!” Klare hissed, trying and failing to wriggle her way out of Kassy’s grip.

  “And I’ll give you a bath.”

  “No!”

  Really, she deserved the torment. Azia could hear her protesting all the way down the hall, with or without closing doors to muffle her resistance. It wasn’t the healthiest form of revenge. Either way, it echoed, and it was enough for her to smirk again.

  Her eyes drifted to the ceiling, eventually. Seleth’s own followed suit as he slipped his hands into his pockets. “Guess we get to go up there after all.”

  “Seleth, I really don’t like the idea of you fighting the Rain intentionally,” Azia confessed. “Make fun of me if you want, but it…bothers me. I didn’t even want you involved with the Thunderstorm in the first place.”

  She was somewhat surprised when he greeted her with a gentle gaze--grin or not. “You don’t think I can stand up for myself? After all that?”

  Azia fidgeted with the hem of her scarf absentmindedly. “I know you can. I just…we can’t afford to lose you.”

  Seleth shook his head. “I’m not going anywhere. You’re stuck with me. I wouldn’t have agreed to it if I didn’t know I could pull it off. Trust me, okay?”

  His silence was an invitation for her faith. Azia still hesitated to give it, and only the softest glimmer in his eyes offered her any encouragement. She sighed. “Alright. Please, please be careful. If you change your mind, there’s no shame in it. Just let me know. Don’t do anything stupid. Got it?”

  Only then did he grin, brilliant as ever. “Yes, ma’am.”

  Azia found the drive to return his smile, whether or not her warmth could match his own. The idea of seeing Seleth side-by-side with the most vile of toxins was still immensely distressing. Even so, she had proof of his competency. More than that, she had his confidence, carried on the same growing grin. Ideally, it would’ve been contagious.

  Cloudless as he’d left the sky, she wondered if the Institute could hunt down the stars in broad daylight. For all he’d done for them, Seleth deserved to see that much. If Azia could see them herself, she’d pray for his safety--and restraint--on each and every one.