No amount of staring out of the window was going to turn stars into clouds any faster. Azia did it anyway. It was a reflex.

  She was starting to compromise her notes, by which she’d already confused her formulas at least four times. The eraser marks were getting aggravating to work around. There was a deadline, soft as it was, and she risked compromising it more with every impatient flicker upwards. She’d misspelled “synchronize” again. To be fair, that was chronic.

  Her eyes went up. Her eyes went down. The stars still sparkled bright.

  Really, it wasn’t excitement so much as it was anticipation. If her hurried gaze wasn’t pointed at paper or panes, it was pointed at the clock. Just as she couldn’t cobble the sky together, she couldn’t send it ticking faster. Eventually, writing had become a distraction from the inevitable--preferable as the inevitable was to math. That, too, was a reflex.

  She did it again. She still got her stars. This was agonizing.

  They’d said ten o’clock. Azia believed them, for the most part. They were rarely wrong anymore, given what progress they’d made lately. She’d never bothered to ask about the jet stream hypothesis. It was there, it worked, and it was useful.

  Like so many things outside of four walls, it wasn’t her problem. She was sketching the Institute, now. That wasn’t supposed to be there. Once more, eraser marks clogged lines meant for arithmetic.

  The fourth time was unbearable. She had so little of merit to present anyway. If she couldn’t assemble the clouds with her eyes, then she could at least embrace them out in the open.

  Provided the forecast was correct, it didn’t warrant her gear. The scarf sufficed, lest she be left to untangle murky black with a humble comb again. Azia had long since stuffed what she could where it needed to be, and a journal plagued with half-hearted scribbles joined the mess. She brought only the essentials--violent and not--and she left only a glance behind. Still nothing. She’d expected as much.

  Every step through the halls echoed far too loudly, and Azia gave a silent apology for anyone she’d be awakening so late. Logically, she couldn’t have been the only one burning candlelight--particularly on a Saturday. Regardless, she was self-conscious enough.

  The soft clink of the glaive against the bottles in her bag wasn’t helping. At the very least, it would be a quiet night by severity alone. Isolation sounded comfortable, for once.

  The hour still warranted a detour all the same. Azia took a left. Her left echoed, too, although she had far less concerns about the volume inside the library--of all places.

  Her footsteps grew quieter by the hug of paper alone, all-consuming and towering on every side. The shelves were grand, the scent was nostalgic, and the lighting was gentle. It was preferable to glimmering white, polished as it was behind her. Azia stretched, she sighed, and she shattered the silence of her own accord. Once it was gone, there was no getting it back.

  “Kassy?” she called.

  The call she got back was muffled, if not distant. Still, it was there. “Whaaaat?”

  “Where are you?”

  “I’m in the baking section.”

  Azia raised an eyebrow at no one. “Why?”

  “Because I wanted to be.”

  “Come here for a minute.”

  She heard a tiny whine of discontent. It was aloft, and she hoped the librarian in question was using the ladder properly for once. “Do I have to get down?”

  “Yes.”

  Azia earned companionship, at least, although not without whimpers to go with it. The far-off thud she heard initially left her wincing, by which she believed the girl had fallen to the carpet. It wouldn’t have been the first time. When the pouting librarian rounded the corner of a shelf unharmed and intact, Azia breathed a soft sigh of relief.

  “There was one about pumpkin bread,” Kassy whined once more. “I liked it. I wasn’t done.”

  Azia sighed. “You can read it later. Listen, I just wanted to give you a heads up that I’m going out for a bit. I don’t know who else is awake, and I don’t want anyone to panic if they can’t find me.”

  Kassy’s expression softened. “Where are you going? It’s late. Don’t you have Dissemination tomorrow?”

  Azia smiled. “It’s supposed to Rain tonight. Not a lot. Just a Drizzle.”

  It wasn’t exactly a cause for celebration. Kassy’s face lit up anyway, and the smile she returned was ten times brighter. “Are you gonna go collect stuff?”

  “A little bit,” Azia said, reaching back to pat her bag. “I won’t be out for too long.”

  Kassy tilted her head. “You’re not gonna get dressed up?”

  “It’s just a Drizzle, like I said. It’s not really worth it. I’ll be back in maybe an hour, at most. If anyone goes looking for me, could you tell them I’m--”

  “Can I come?”

  She still wore the same brilliant smile. Azia grimaced. “No.”

  Only then did it lapse, and Azia got her whining back. “Why not?”

  Again, she sighed. “It’s late," she offered herself.

  “But you’re going out!”

  “That’s different.”

  “Why is it different?”

  “You know why it’s different.”

  Kassy clasped begging hands together. It was almost pathetic. “Please? I’m bored.”

  Azia flinched. “What do you mean you’re bored? Did you clean?”

  Kassy nodded fervently.

  “No you didn’t.”

  “Yes I did!” she cried.

  “Did you refile the returns?”

  “Yes!”

  “Did you wipe down the front desk?”

  “Yes!”

  “Did you organize the checkout log?”

  “Yes!”

  “Did you feed the fish?”

  Kassy fell silent.

  Azia stared, for a moment. “Did you feed the fish?” she repeated.

  Kassy beamed.

  “Kassy, go feed the fish,” Azia deadpanned.

  “And then I’m coming with yoooou!” the librarian cried with far too much glee, invitation be damned. Her sandals beat heavily against the carpet as she sprinted across the library, disappearing behind a different shelf entirely. Azia rolled her eyes, her smirk notwithstanding.

  It took her gaze to another clock, mounted high and steadily ticking. She’d made progress on that front, at least. Given the environment, she’d had a feeling she would. Part of her still preferred the solace of silence, left to gather droplets in peace and isolation. Company wasn’t overly ideal.

  Azia kept her mouth shut, given her involuntary research partner. Sunshine in the dark or not, toxins born under starlight took priority. For that, she could tolerate whatever clung to her side.

  She could mostly tolerate it.

  “Do you think I should’ve brought my stuff? Maybe I should’ve brought my stuff. I mean, you brought your stuff. The tough stuff, I mean. That rhymes.”

  Azia took the slowest blink imaginable. “You don’t need your stuff. It’s a Drizzle. We’re not in any real danger. I just don’t like leaving without it. You know that.”

  Kassy poked at the shaft of the glaive haphazardly. The way by which it shifted uncomfortably on Azia’s back was incredibly annoying. “Maybe I should start doing the same thing. Like, just in case.”

  “You don’t need to. You’re not even supposed to be out here. You better not be coming out alone if you do go, anyway.”

  “That’s why I have you!” she more or less cheered, outright leaping into the air. It was a miracle that she didn’t trip on the way back to earth, the sand softening the blow. She didn’t have the shoes for it.

  “I’m not your bodyguard,” Azia muttered.

  “Are we driving?”

  For once, Azia smiled, casting her eyes over her shoulder. “We’re not going far. We’re just gonna take a walk, really. We’ll stay within sight of the Institute, and we’ll go back when my vessels are full. Do you want an umbrella?”

  Kassy’s bright smile outdid her own. “Yes, please!”

  It was her fault for departing with literally nothing. Azia wasn’t sure why she’d bothered to account for the girl in the first place. Regardless, she slipped her bag off her shoulders, settling the glaive gently into the soft sands below. Careful rustling left her with an umbrella in hand, and Azia offered Kassy her only salvation from dirtied skin. To be fair, her own complexion was less sensitive.

  Raining or not, Kassy didn’t hesitate. She nearly hit Azia in the face in the process of opening her little shield, settling neatly beneath the black canopy. “I’m ready,” she said, bouncing on her heels.

  She was hard to stay annoyed at. Azia’s satisfaction was instinctive.

  The tiniest plop of murky brown on black was a helpful indicator of the inevitable, by which Azia’s heart shouldn’t have skipped a beat. It was largely out of disorientation, for how she’d been preoccupied with Kassy’s protection. She almost couldn’t see the droplets, at first, slowly speckling the umbrella one by one.

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  It took time for grotesque trails to paint her skin in turn, dotting the back of her hands with darkened filth. She winced. She’d pay the price for knowledge with abundant soap, later.

  She counted her blessings for the quantity and kicked herself for her hesitation. Hurried hands--dirtied or otherwise--dove into her bag, and she collected what glassware she could into her arms. She didn’t bother arranging it as carefully as she would’ve liked, lids falling hurriedly into wet sand. At the very least, she was gaining something. The tiniest trickles grew trapped within each transparent vessel, painstakingly slowly or not.

  Kassy stretched one eager hand out into the Rain, her fingertips capturing what messy descent they could. She seriously knew better. She swayed back and forth happily, regardless. “Yaaaay.”

  “No, not 'yay,'” Azia scolded. “I wasn’t ready.”

  “How much do you need?” Kassy asked, casting her eyes to her scrambling partner.

  “As much as I can get. I ran out.”

  Splitting her focus was difficult. Azia fought to assemble her materials in the midst of a steadily-increasing shower. Ideally, she hadn’t gotten sand in the lids, lest she compromise her entire excursion. Kassy seemed satisfied enough, regardless. Azia somewhat regretted surrendering her one umbrella, by which she could’ve journaled beneath dry safety. Instead, she pulled her scarf ever more snugly over her head. It was the most she could do.

  Kassy’s eyes rose high instead, drifting to the clouds unseen. “It’s dark. Did you bring a flashlight?”

  Every glass was upright enough, secured by hastily-erected stands and poorly-adjusted sands. It wasn’t perfect. It sufficed. “If we need it. You can still see the Institute from here. We’ll follow that back. I was careful not to stray too far from it.”

  Azia pointed accordingly, one finger speared towards the glowing building beyond. Far from radiant, its gentle warmth, too, sufficed. Kassy’s smile still challenged it. “‘Kay. I was kinda hoping to see the stars, though.”

  Azia eyed every last disgusting droplet that sank to the base of each glass, tumbling atop one another in turn. “Well, no, the clouds are blocking them. I know it’s hard to see, though.”

  “Will you take me back out here when it’s not Raining? I wanna look at the stars together.”

  At least one glass was coagulating, slightly. Azia tapped it with her finger delicately, and the problem was resolved. “Not tonight. Maybe another time. I don’t know how long it’s supposed to Rain, anyway. Like I said, I’m only gonna be out here until I get what I need.”

  Kassy tilted her head. “Maybe tomorrow? After Dissemination?”

  Azia shrugged, raising her head from the filling vials at last. “I mean, I can’t promise there’s gonna be--”

  She stopped. She’d meant to offer her attention to Kassy, thrown over her shoulder and paired with a smile. By no means had she been underexaggerating the dark, although she had enough distant light to work with. She thought she’d hallucinated the outline, at first, shadowy shapes contrasting against sand from afar. She blinked. She blinked again, and still it was there.

  “Azia?”

  Azia narrowed her eyes. It wasn’t as distant as she would’ve liked it to be. It wasn’t that distant at all.

  “What’s wrong?”

  With caution, she rose to her feet, never once tearing her eyes from the obscured silhouette. If she squinted, it was disturbingly humanoid. Had there not been a librarian at her back, her heart more than likely wouldn’t have picked up speed. She more than likely wouldn’t have picked up a glaive with heavy hands. “Kassy, go back.”

  She gave Kassy the courtesy of her attention, even in her peripheral vision. Kassy flinched. “What?”

  It was all she was willing to offer. Azia stilled the polearm upright and locked eyes with the stagnant shadow on the not-too-distant horizon. “Go back to the Institute. Follow the lights back. Go now.”

  She could vaguely hear the shuffling of sandals against sand, by which Kassy did anything but. The librarian was standing on the tips of her toes, instead, trailing Azia’s gaze to the same shapes clad in darkness. “Is that--”

  “I think so.”

  “But it’s just Drizzling.”

  “I know.”

  Kassy’s voice caught something hesitant. “I…thought they weren’t supposed to--”

  “They’re not.”

  In truth, part of Azia was patiently awaiting the moment that droplets so delicate would come to shower her in earnest, doubling and tripling until she was left to steep in true disgust. For now, she was shockingly pure, tainted only by the weakest of toxins. What stood beyond didn’t move. For a moment, neither did she. “Kassy, go back,” she repeated firmly.

  “Do you want me to get someone?” Kassy murmured.

  Azia paused. “No. It’s just one of them. I’ll be…fine. Still, if I’m not back in thirty minutes, send somebody out. Got it?”

  “G-Got it,” Kassy stammered.

  “Can you get to the Institute okay?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Run.”

  It was an immense relief when objections became actions and speech became footsteps. Azia heard only rustling sands at her back, growing ever more distant with each passing second. She didn’t dare peel her eyes from the horizon, cloaked in darkness or otherwise.

  The softest glow of the Institute behind was the most aid she was going to get, for how clouds she’d so yearned for earlier now stole the guiding moon above. One hand stayed glued to the shaft of her glaive. Her other arm stretched far to her side, fumbling uncomfortably through her languishing bag.

  Azia almost dropped the headlamp altogether, and did so twice over in the process of donning it. To set it up one-handed was difficult. Still, to shirk her singular line of defense was even riskier. The quiet click of the switch left her with flooding yellow, spilling onto warm sands and peering into the night. It didn’t help as much as she would've liked.

  The only figure that mattered still lay out of reach, her luminous bubble serving her half-heartedly in multiple flavors of darkness. It was the most she had to work with. Kassy was gone. Her heartbeat should’ve slowed. Instead, it still stumbled along, and she blamed the lack of precedent. For once, company would’ve been a massive relief--competent company, at least.

  Actually willing herself forward was difficult. Her muffled footsteps, the softest hiss of falling Rain, and her own shaky breaths were all that followed along. Whatever silhouette awaited her was stagnant, unmoving and immune to illumination. How close she’d have to get to light it up in full was debatable. There wouldn’t be much to light up to begin with, ultimately.

  The mismatched severity left her little to go on. She couldn’t pinpoint how much danger she was truly in. Azia’s heart beat even faster, then. The blood rushing through her ears was one more sound she could add to her choking ambience.

  She inched closer. It didn’t move. She did, step by step. Azia couldn’t so much as see the color. It was all she could do to level the tip of the glaive with the shadowy silhouette as she grew near, steadying what rattling breaths she could. Every muscle was tense enough to hurt.

  Logically, by the outline alone, she knew where to aim. It was the most she had to work with. She’d go from there, and she’d cling to what tiny element of surprise she had. Given the situation, Azia doubted she had one at all.

  It didn’t matter. Shining blue met her eyes first. It was new, it was foreign, and it was sudden. It was a catalyst for a flashing blade, instinctive or not.

  Her hands moved before the rest of her did. The motion was jarring, and Azia swung before she’d processed the assault at all. Muscle memory filled the cracks that fear had opened. She braced as best as she could against unstable sands, surrendering distress to a sharpened glaive. Somewhere in the mix, she lost her luminous lifeline.

  She didn’t have time to look for the headlamp, nor could she recognize the exact moment that she staggered to begin with. Something lurched in the dark, and Azia stumbled in reverse with a gasp. Given the useless glow that weakly kissed her boots, she had a solid idea of where it had ended up. She tensed, she gritted her teeth, and she thrust into the dark. If she was hitting anything, she wouldn’t have known.

  Once more, shimmering blue graced her gaze. It was twofold and brilliant, out of place in the shadows. Sweet aquamarine snagged on the metal of her blade, and what unfamiliar color had crossed her path was stolen just as soon. She could hear her own violence, every whoosh of every slash against open air more than audible.

  The fervent bubbling, frothy and scathingly ethereal, was incomprehensible. It was never that fast, nor that loud. Azia raced through every alternative culprit for the sound in her head, and still she came up empty.

  She was used to sickness, liquified and appalling as it cursed her skin from on high. She was used to days in which the only wetness she found was that which left pollution in its wake--at best. She’d come to loathe all that could saturate, for the most part, if it was born of nature alone. Already, tonight, her skin had grown damp with more of the same.

  Whatever blighted her now was fast. Whatever blighted her now was hard. Whatever blighted her now crashed against her glaive, and Azia felt it before she ever saw it.

  Something splashed against her cheeks, abundant and light. It was gentle and not all at once, pure and horrific in tandem. It was enough to send her reeling by force alone, and she yelped as she stumbled. When the same bubbling sound caught her once more, it took everything she had to match what would follow. Azia still had absolutely no idea what she was swinging at, nor was she certain she wanted to know. She did it anyway.

  Again, the same malleable pressure blasted against her glaive. Her momentum grew blunted each and every time, no matter how much effort she threw into her offenses. She went high. She went low. She struck from the sides, and she came down from above.

  It hardly mattered, regardless of where she beat upon her unseen opponent. Azia earned purity for her troubles, cleaved in two and splattering against her shirt. It was unlike any soaking sensation she’d ever felt cling to her fabrics. Sharp metal clashed only with that which was fluid, and she was futile every time.

  It wasn’t stagnant. She didn’t feel the slight bend against her blade that she’d come to know. It wasn’t putrid. She didn’t grow stained with the scattering residue that she’d come to hate. It was beautiful. Rippling blue met her eyes once more, locked in the dark and running her through for just a bit longer than before.

  It was different. In every way, it was different, and it was undoubtedly her fault for hesitating in the face of stinging aquamarine.

  What surging resistance had rebelled against a polearm overpowered her in full. Her glaive was stolen by that which she couldn’t see, torn clean from her hands by gushing pressure. Given the speed with which it slammed into her wrists, it almost hurt.

  Azia cried out in shock and half-hearted pain alike, surrendering her sole defense. The whoosh of the blade that serrated the air came not from her hands, spiraling pitifully to the distant sands. She could hear the weakest thud, if she tried. For the most part, all she could hear was the bubbles.

  She heard them up close, eventually, and she felt the same pressure once more. The bursting force that barreled into her forearms sent her hurtling to the ground, crashing onto her back and enveloping her sleeves in the same surreal saturation. It wasn’t quick, nor did it ebb.

  Azia remained in its grasp there alone, somewhere between terrified and intrigued. It didn’t burn. It didn’t ache. It was cool, if not nearly crushing. Regardless of what it was, no amount of squirming or kicking was sufficing to undo it.

  Her panicked gaze shot to the right. The glaive wasn’t happening. No amount of wriggling was going to be enough to steal it back, disturbingly far from desperate fingers. Part of her wondered how long thirty minutes truly was. Part of her wondered if she’d made it there yet, and part of her wondered if they’d find her in the dark at all.

  The muffled glow of the headlamp was ever-present, to her left. It took time for her to steady herself long enough to catch it, sprouting beneath what sands had seen fit to drape the lens. It was enough to work with.

  It was enough to tear away shadows she couldn’t unveil of her own accord. It was enough to confirm her suspicions of a difference. It was enough for the shimmer of delicate blue to grow lovely on her arms, unwelcome or otherwise. Paralyzed or not, the sight was somehow calming. No amount of dissecting the curving stream with her eyes was offering any answers. Azia followed it upwards, her gaze sucked into a river she couldn’t envision.

  Where her restraints had captured the light, the rest of purity unbound glowed iridescent in turn. That which floated aloft spoke not to toxins, nor sickness, nor all that could hurt the world. She was dreaming, maybe, her enraptured gaze chasing every last droplet of glistening liquid. What vicious bubbles had cursed her ears were now still, and Azia found only the most gentle of thriving trickles in its place. Frozen in time and motionless before her, it was all she’d ever imagined it to be.

  Outstretched arms were inexplicable, as was the boy whose fingers rested so near to liquid splendor. He, too, was still, and fluid purity called him home. Azia was hesitant to call him angelic. Even now, she was pinned, helpless to do more than drink in whatever impossibilities met her eyes. She could blame it on a mirage, maybe. She’d never encountered one at night.

  Once more, her wondrous gaze touched the aquamarine that had so hurriedly crossed her own. She kept it close, for once. He locked eyes with her, lowering his hands in time with slow swirls of his fingers. Every droplet of lovely blue that had nestled so near to him faltered, surrendering to speckling shimmers of their own. If they’d evaporated, it was no evaporation she’d ever seen. Like flowing starlight, they surrendered to the night. Even as he stemmed his assault, the sight was gorgeous.

  Azia’s arms weren’t immune to the same freedom, her muscles relaxing as she lost her endless pressure. It still left her sleeves soaked and her heart racing. Not once did it occur to her to resist, nor to run. The furthest she got was propping herself up on her soaked elbows, defenseless in the sand. Between the same terror and curiosity, the latter was beginning to take precedence. Azia couldn’t help it.

  The boy took one step forward. He took another. He took another, and another, his arms falling to his sides and his shining gaze falling upon her in turn. Azia stiffened. It was the most she could think to do.

  When he dropped to one knee, her endless pendulum between fear and intrigue only swung ever faster. This would be a strange way to die, if anything. Still, even now, Azia wasn’t fully convinced she was awake.

  His fingers came cupped beneath her chin, and he leveled her eyes with his own. So near to him, the softest glow of the dimmest headlamp was viable. Messy locks were unimportant, challenging the shadowy night beyond. Smooth skin meant nothing, fragile as he seemed to be.

  If she stared too deep into a gaze that swam and glistened, she’d surely, undeniably drown. Azia did it nonetheless. If this was her end, it was a gentle way to go. She embraced it.

  He grinned. “Damn, you’re cute.”

  Five fingers across his face was the strongest weapon she had.

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