The rain was endless.

So in other words, everything was normal on Nikari’s planet. She sat on a worn pillow, listening to the stream of liquid flowing off the top of the gazebo. It was her favorite spot to go when she needed a moment away. The wide cone shaped roof was a common design in Hiln, the shining Vitalic material and large overhang made to withstand the Acid Pour.

Nikari leaned forward, resting her head against the low set wood wall lining the area. The gap between roof and wall was small, and she had to peer several feet downwards to actually see the acid rain itself. 

Soft footsteps echoed from the hall behind her. Nikari let her attention be drawn away, looking over her shoulder. “Ah, I should have known this is where you’d be.” Her older sister sighed. 

Elsin was tall, with shoulder length black hair and simple gray clothing. Holding out a hand, she said, “Come on, we have work to do.”

She wanted to defend herself in the face of her sister’s disapproval. Or tell Elsin the news that had driven her to come here. Instead, she said, “Yeah, I know.” Taking the proffered hand, Nikari stood, following Elsin as she set off at a clipped pace towards the forgery.

“I’m not entirely sure you do.” Her sister stared straight ahead, face pinched. “The Acid Pour burned through part of the Eighth Level roofing. It left a hole big enough to melt half of the wood rooms underneath.”

Nikari’s eyes widened. She thought of her first and really only up close interaction with the deadly rain. It had been nearly twelve years ago, when little five year old her had wandered off in search of their parents. Instead she’d found one of the openings leading outside. 

The large tower city she’d grown up in had few exits, but some were necessary. Nikari had been almost awed when she’d seen her first glimpse of the mighty Acid Pour. A raging storm that every child in Hiln was told to never go near, for the liquid would burn the very flesh from your bones.

While she shuddered to think of it now, young her hadn’t truly understood yet just how dangerous the weather was. 

“How?” She asked, turning to look at her sister.

Elsin sighed. “The structure wasn’t entirely made of Vital. The inspectors figured that the metal they used instead had been slowly dissolving for a while before it finally gave in.”

The repetitive clang of crashing hammers surrounded them as they arrived at their destination. Nikari grabbed a leather apron from the communal rack lining the wall, handing one over to Elsin before quickly tying the back of hers.

Sweat started to break out on her skin almost immediately upon entering the forgery, the intense heat making the room suffocating. Elsin always said she would get used to it over time, but so far she hadn’t.

“Hey, Shim.” Elsin said, waving as the copper haired boy walked by. He gave a tired smile, nodding in greeting to her and Elsin.

Everyone in the forgery looked tired, Nikari realized. Their faces were haggard as they focused intensely on their tasks. The stab of guilt she’d felt upon hearing about the acid damaged roof increased. As Forgers, they were tasked with making Vital. Tons upon tons of it every day. The material was of constant demand in Hiln, as it was really the only substance known to survive the acid rain. The problem was, only a select few actually had the ability to create it in its rawest form. 

Nikari was one of them.

She parted from Elsin, cutting through the swarming crowd of workers in order to reach the slightly elevated platform where the rest of the Vitalforges were. Joining the line of around fifteen people, Nikari gathered her dark braids into a knot and stood next to Unan.

“Cutting it a little close, don’t you think, Wiseless One?” He said curtly in his weathered voice, face wrinkling as his eyes scrutinized her.

“I know, I’m sorry.” She told him quietly but firmly, trying not to think about why she’d been bothered enough to risk being late.

Pulling in a breath of sparking forgery air, Nikari put out her hands to start Vitalforging. It was a complex process, and not many knew how it worked, including Nikari herself.

Bringing her hands together, she focused on the space between her loosely clasped palms. She had to tug at the air, in a way, pulling from it until a grayish translucent substance started to form between her fingers. 

After a few moments of silence, Unan spoke up again, voice nearing what could almost—almost—be described as soft. “You're worried about him again, aren’t ya?”

Nikari sighed softly, shoulders threatening to hunch. “Yes.” 

The sickness is back. We can’t tell precisely how serious it is this time, but as of now your wife isn’t looking good. The words the physician told her father earlier this morning rang through her head. Her parents worked as planters, collecting the few crops they’d learned to grow during the rains. Several years ago, they’d discovered that some people, like her mother, were affected from the prolonged exposure to the acid. They were calling it drizzle sickness.

Nikari pulled her hands apart, fingers straining faintly as she elongated the Vital, its layers solidifying into existence. Next to her, Unan had already finished several bricks, dropping the Vital down a chute where it would be distributed below and smelted by the other workers.

“Life’s unpleasant, girl. It might be friendly one moment then stab your back the next. Can’t do nothing about that.” Unan said gruffly. 

“Mhm.” Nikari hummed, trying to focus on her task. One of the old man’s trademark lectures was the last thing she wanted to hear at the moment.

“But you can’t let that stop you from moving. Other people? They have the luxury to cry from that knife. We Vitalforges don’t.” He pointed upwards, where you could just faintly hear the incessant beat of the Acid Pour through the ceiling. “As one of the only things keeping that rain from killing off all of Hiln, you have a responsibility Nikari.”

“I know.” She felt as though she’d said the phrase a lot that day. “There are the weight of lives upon my shoulders. My life is not my own.” It was a common phrase among the Vitalforges. Nikari may not have wanted the burden—a selfish notion she knew—but she would bear it nonetheless.

And maybe… one day, there would be a chance that the rains would

stop hurting them all.