“I am glad you agreed to come with me.” Noah’s voice carried low beneath the steady patter of rain. It was a strange, unseasonable rain that veiled Torchline’s riot of color in a silver haze. Even here, in a place known for its heat and indulgent sun, the sky wept in a cool, persistent drizzle. It slicked the colorful, volcanic stone underfoot, deepening the reds and violets of the rock until they gleamed like fresh wounds. Steam still coiled from the sea where geysers ruptured the surface. Now the plumes tangled with falling rain, turning the coastline into something half-dreamed and shifting.
He walked beside Hotaru, broad shoulders damp, blond hair plastered back by the drizzle. ”How are you doing?” The last time he had seen her, he had left her at Flora’s door with too much unsaid and too much understood. Noah drew in a breath heavy with salt and sulfur and wet earth. Torchline was meant to be bright, brazen, alive.
Today it felt subdued, even as the shrine rose in the distance.”I brought an offering for Frey,” his glacier eyes moved sidelong to look at her, ”I just wanted to say thank you for all they’d done for Marcus while I was here. Not to call them down or anything…” He trailed off, unsure of how Hotaru felt before her herald at this point in time, aware the history that followed them both into the rain.
