Rain began as a whisper.
Soft drops threaded through the forest canopy, touching leaves, stone, and ash with barely a sound. The fire hissed faintly as moisture kissed its embers, sending thin ribbons of smoke curling upward. The forest exhaled, damp and cold.
Tomora stood with help.
His legs shook beneath him, breath shallow, chest still aching from the water that had claimed him and then released him. Patricia's arm was locked beneath his shoulder, Jer steadying him from the other side. Tala hovered close, fingers white-knuckled where they gripped his sleeve, afraid to let go.
Each step felt wrong.
The ground shifted under Tomora's foot.
At first he thought it was mud.
Then his boot sank—not into earth, but through itself.
The leather softened, blurred, then simply… ceased.
His toes vanished.
Not soaked. Not broken.
Gone.
Water streamed downward where his foot had been, slipping soundlessly into the soil like a thin brook finding its path.
Patricia froze.
"…Tomora?"
The word barely made it past her lips.
Tomora followed her gaze.
His leg shimmered.
The skin rippled, translucent now, veins smearing into pale currents beneath the surface. The shape of his calf wavered as though seen through heat haze.
His breath hitched.
"W—What's happening to me?"
The words cracked apart as his knee lost definition, melting downward in a smooth, terrible motion. His body leaned instinctively to compensate—and nearly collapsed.
Tala lunged forward.
Her hand passed through his arm.
No resistance.
Just cool, flowing absence.
She gasped sharply and staggered back as though burned.
Yori screamed.
"He—he's like Azure…!"
The name struck like a hammer.
Tomora's chest heaved as panic finally tore free. He reached for Patricia—
His fingers stretched, blurred, then unraveled, dripping away in thin rivulets that struck the ground without sound.
"No—no—no—!" His voice shook, echoing strangely, as though carried through water instead of air. "Help me! Please— I don't— I don't know what's—!"
His torso folded inward.
Ribs dissolved. Shoulders slumped and slid apart, flesh losing all cohesion as gravity claimed what little form remained. His face warped—cheekbones sagging, eyes stretching too wide, features smearing like wet paint dragged by careless fingers.
The scream that tore from him had no mouth.
Then—
There was no body.
Only water.
A wide, trembling pool spread across the forest floor where Tomora had stood moments before. Rain struck its surface, sending ripples racing outward in frantic patterns. The puddle glimmered faintly, a dim violet glow pulsing deep within like a heart struggling to remember how to beat.
His voice lingered.
Thin. Broken.
"Am… I dying?"
Jer moved without thinking.
She grabbed the nearest bucket, dropping to her knees as water streamed away from the pool, sinking greedily into the soil. Her hands plunged into the shimmering liquid, scooping wildly.
"Get it—don't let it disappear!" she shouted.
Soldiers scrambled.
Cups, helmets, broken flasks—anything that could hold water was thrust into service. Hands plunged into mud and liquid alike, fingers numb as they chased every drop that threatened to vanish into the earth.
Splash by splash.
Cup by cup.
The puddle shrank.
Its glow dimmed as less of it remained together, trembling violently as if resisting separation.
Tala sobbed openly now, her hands shaking as she poured water into the bucket Jer held steady. Her tears fell into it, blurring with the faint purple shimmer.
"Please," she whispered, not sure if he could hear. "Please stay."
At last, nothing remained on the ground.
Only a bucket sat between them.
Inside it—water.
Clear, trembling, alive.
At the bottom, a faint violet light pulsed once… twice… weakly, like a distant storm flickering beyond the horizon.
The forest was silent.
Rain continued to fall.
Tomora's voice rose from the bucket, soft and fractured, echoing against metal and air alike.
"…Please. Don't let me stay like this."
Tala dropped to her knees beside it, hands hovering uselessly above the rim.
"We have to find Azure," she said, voice tight with desperation. "He did this—he has to know how to fix him."
Patricia straightened slowly.
Rain streaked down her armor, but her eyes burned hotter than fire. Her jaw clenched as she stared into the glowing water, fingers tightening around her spear.
"Gear up," she said, every word edged like steel. "We move at dawn."
The soldiers didn't argue.
Fear sat heavy on every face—but beneath it stirred something darker. Purpose. Resolve.
"Azure breathes another second," Patricia continued, "only if he reverses this."
Thunder rumbled in the distance.
The bucket trembled again, water sloshing gently against its sides as the purple light flickered weakly within.
The campfire hissed and finally died.
Smoke drifted upward, swallowed by rain and darkness.
Somewhere far beyond the trees, forces unseen shifted.
Something ancient had stirred.
And the world would not forget it.