Harper
Harper has not set foot in Stormbreak since before the war, and admittedly little has changed aside from the uh...elevation thing. Destruction had happened of course, but Stormbreak has always been the most technologically advanced of the cities - coincidentally why he's here now, actually.
Puddles form in many places, but in the winter it's more common to find snow and ice over rain, and even then it's often absorbed by the earth, and old cobblestone didn't provide enough surface area for them. Stormbreak's streets are finely made, much closer to the modern ones Harper had grown up with, and whenever the ice melts it collects in the plaza. Now, what melts ice? Sunlight. Conveniently exactly the combination Harper needs.
Safrin had told him he could capture the sunlight in the puddle however he desired, and as a rather artistic man (and maybe the last living art guild member?) he has stationed himself outside a cafe with his art supplies, capturing the image of the sunlight in the puddle with his paints. He intends to bottle a small vial of it dipped straight into the sunlight's reflection as well, but for now, the peace of sitting and painting after a year of work and recovering from the war is a balm Harper hadn't expected.
Puddles form in many places, but in the winter it's more common to find snow and ice over rain, and even then it's often absorbed by the earth, and old cobblestone didn't provide enough surface area for them. Stormbreak's streets are finely made, much closer to the modern ones Harper had grown up with, and whenever the ice melts it collects in the plaza. Now, what melts ice? Sunlight. Conveniently exactly the combination Harper needs.
Safrin had told him he could capture the sunlight in the puddle however he desired, and as a rather artistic man (and maybe the last living art guild member?) he has stationed himself outside a cafe with his art supplies, capturing the image of the sunlight in the puddle with his paints. He intends to bottle a small vial of it dipped straight into the sunlight's reflection as well, but for now, the peace of sitting and painting after a year of work and recovering from the war is a balm Harper hadn't expected.
I am water - soft enough to offer life
tough enough to drown it away
tough enough to drown it away
