[Mikleo hesitates, debating whether or not to try opening his eyes, then decides against it. What Lailah is doing, it's working. The warmth is spreading slowly from his hands down the length of his arms, the chill of malevolence that he knows isn't real fading slowly over time. But if he focuses on it, if he breaks the spell of peace that his closed eyes are creating within himself, it could undo it all in a second.

So he nods at her question, swallowing back his fear, and continues.]

He needed water. And he didn't ask, not really. He knew I was having trouble with it. But I thought... this is something I can do. I couldn't break the walls down, like an earth seraph. I couldn't keep him warm, like fire. I couldn't help him breathe with the wind. But this...

[His shifts his hands within Lailah's, forming a small cup with his palms and fingers curled.

"Don't push yourself, okay? I'm fine!"

"I can do it. I can do it!"]

I don't even remember what the words were. I don't know if they mattered. I just kept saying it, over and over. I asked the water to come, and...

["Mikleo..."

"Shh! I'm trying to concentrate!"

"Mikleo! There's water!"

There's warmth all around him, winding around his chest, soothing his trembling limbs, dragging his fear gently from the depth of his soul. Suddenly he exhales, the sound halfway a gasp, and he feels it: the light in his hands, rising to life so briefly and then bursting like a shattered lightbulb. His hands are cold, wet.

There's water.]

...S... Sorey?

[It's barely a whisper. He lifts his head, eyes still cautiously closed, but he's facing the direction where he'd last seen Sorey, rather than towards Lailah.]