Chapter 67 - Rain

Iris

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An eternity might have passed, or it could have simply been an instant.
All Valkyre knew was that the fleeting bliss of unconsciousness passed in a haze, and he was jarred awake by the burning pain that ached through every joint of his body, along with the incessant irritation, brinking on painful, of something kicking at him.
Valkyre forced his eyes open, gasping. The motion was accompanied by a renewed burst of pain, mainly from his shoulder, which was covered in slowly browning, still wet blood.
“-Up. Get up.”
He blinked at the voice. For an instant, his unwounded hand reached out in a weak, nudging gesture, searching. The events in his mind were beginning to solidify, though a fading headache denied him clarity.
“I…ris…?”
Something rapped sharply at the side of his head, and Valkyre winced. He groaned faintly under his breath as he tried to orient himself, slowly attempting to push himself up on his one good arm.
Abruptly, a black shape darted over his face, inches away. Dark, ragged hair hung down around Corryn’s face, the golden eyes showing through sharp and glinting, edged in black.
“Get up, Archangel.”
Corryn’s face vanished again. Valkyre slowly sat up, fighting a wave of nausea, then glanced over to where the other squatted next to him, hands curled, wrists resting on his knees.
“What…?”
Valkyre began to raise a hand to his head, his temples throbbing, but stopped with a sharp gasp as pain laced up his arm, fire spiking from the wound in his shoulder. He felt the sickness overwhelm him then. He leaned over, gasping, heaving dryly, though his stomach had nothing to give up. Camael… …Camael was dead. He’d killed him. He’d…
At his side, Corryn growled and nudged him, leaning over close.
“Get up, Valkyre. It’s not done yet.”
Valkyre took in a shuddering breath, then glanced around the clearing. Nothing but dark shapes over a dark field, the sky above like a void, empty and black, full of roiling grays and blues that resolved themselves into no shapes at all. Valkyre wasn’t even sure if he was seeing them at all, or simply dreaming.
Slowly, Valkyre pulled up his legs underneath himself, hands flat on the ground for support. His back screamed in resistance, every movement painful even though his wings had withdrawn, most likely as soon as he’d lost consciousness, as his body was no longer able to support them. He hesitated, catching his breath.
“Where’s… …Iris?”
Corryn snarled. “You’re supposed to find him, Archangel. And you’d better hurry up.”
Valkyre, oddly, felt a wry grin pull at his lips. Find Iris… again? He could do that. He could. He’d killed Camael already. But… he was so tired.
The crossbreed tilted his head back, staring up at the hollow absence of sky, devoid of stars to mark their distance and loneliness in the world, to ensure their valiant, pathetic hopes. Valkyre felt an instant of vertigo, as if he needed only to let go of the ground and he would fall up into that sky, stripping away all final remainders of a bleak and gray world of dust, sand, and ashes, of wilted trees and crinkled, dried leaves and bare rock baking under a scalding, relentless sun.
Out of nowhere, he felt a chuckle shake his frame, fingers clenching and unclenching in the thin film of dust and bloody soil beneath his hands.
What did it matter? Camael was dead. Was there any reason for him to live, now? As long as Iris was safe, couldn’t he be allowed to drift away, peacefully, of his own free will? Before his own body turned on him fully, devouring flesh and bone, breaking skin and spilling blood, this blood that would neutralize itself, burrowed deep in his veins, in the roots of his wings? He wanted… to be done. He was tired of it all.
He wanted to die with this world, before seeing the end, before he found himself left alone and bereft in a world without meaning, on dry caked earth that split and creased beneath his body. He wanted to…
Corryn struck Valkyre hard to the side of his head, almost sending the crossbreed tumbling back down onto the ground.
“What the-??”
Corryn scowled, leaning close, face inches from the other as Valkyre struggled to right himself, good hand against the side of his head.
“Stop it.”
Valkyre blinked, staring blankly into golden eyes ringed in black. Corryn flashed his teeth, almost sneering.
“You’re a bigger fool than I ever imagined, Valkyre. I know what you’re thinking.”
Valkyre dropped his gaze down to the ground, reining back his anger.
“What are you talking about?” he asked, controlling his breaths. What was Corryn doing, anyway? Why was he even here?
“I can tell. It’s in your eyes.”
Valkyre glanced back up. The black-ringed eyes revealed nothing to him, full of simple emotions, liquid and alive, sharp and cool.
“I know what you’ll say. You’ll help Iris, even if you’re hurt. You’ll get up even if I push you down. But, Archangel, why? Tell me why.”
Valkyre laughed, weakly. He hadn’t meant to, but he did.
“Why?” His voice was quavery, unsteady and barely audible. “I… I don’t know why. I-I don’t. I just… I want… to protect him. Iris. I want to… help him. Because… he’s been hurt. So much. And he…” Valkyre knew he was babbling, and he cut back on his words, teeth gritted, staring down at the gray, colorless ground beneath him, hands blending into the darkness.
“I… I’d give anything for Iris. I don’t care if I die, i-if… as long as I knew that he would be”-
“Idiot.”
Corryn cuffed him again, this time on the shoulder. Valkyre turned on him suddenly, fed up, snarling. “Don’t touch me!”
Corryn only made a face, standing up suddenly. Valkyre, still sitting on the ground, was forced to lean back to watch him.
“You’re a fool, Valkyre. You actually believe that man’s words??” He crossed his arms, an odd gesture coming from him, mouth set in a scowl. “Don’t ever believe anybody. You think you’re going to die? You idiot.”
Corryn dropped his arms suddenly, as if unused to the gesture. He dropped back down again to the ground, leaning so close Valkyre could feel the other’s warm breath puffing over his voice, smelling of, oddly, nothing.
“Everybody dies, Valkyre. But only when they want to. And nobody wants to die, unless they’re stupid. You think you were born just to die for Iris? They loved you. You’re the archangel, Valkyre. You’re not dying.”
Valkyre stared back emptily. Corryn’s logic was broken, too simplistic for reality. He wanted to explain this, and yet, his mouth would not open.
“I realized that, Valkyre. With the light one and the dark one, and with Iris. I realized that.”
Corryn paused, then grinned, flashing sharp white teeth.
“I don’t need Iris any more, because I’m not going to die, Valkyre. I’m going to live forever.”
Valkyre blinked back emptily. He realized that the boy before him now was a different Corryn than the one curled up underground, eyes settled forever on a boy of gray that stared back but never saw him at all. Corryn had changed.
Abruptly, Corryn stood again, and Valkyre noticed for the first time how steadily he’d accomplished the unfamiliar gesture. Corryn’s arms hung limply at his sides now, and he was staring up at the sky, head tilted back, eyes nearly hidden behind the thick dark hair. It was a long while before he spoke again.
“And another thing, Valkyre.”
After a moment’s hesitation, he glanced down again, his golden eyes sharp in the dark, catching light from some source Valkyre could not see.
“You shouldn’t live for Iris. That’s pathetic.”
Valkyre paused, then slowly put his palms to the ground, ignoring the twinge of pain from his shoulder. His body burned, and his back was still ached, but he managed to rise, slowly, shakily, and to stand on his own. He hurt all over, and yet… Corryn was right. At least somewhat.
He still had things to accomplish. He still had reasons for living. He wasn’t going to die yet.
Maybe he’d stay and see what happened when the world ended. But.. if Iris lived, he wanted… …to be there. For him. He wanted…
Valkyre glanced up at a sky in turmoil, feeling the static in the air. A wind was blowing, rustling and coaxing away the last crumpled leaves on the trees, turning them to dust as they spiraled through the air.
“Then what should I live for?” Valkyre asked, half to the other beside him, half to the sky. After a pause, he glanced over.
Corryn’s eyes remained fixed on the trembling, undulating clouds above.
“Not for Iris,” he muttered. After a moment longer, he glanced over, and grinned.
“Live for yourself, Valkyre. Just… live.
“Because… humans are selfish.”
Valkyre blinked, hesitating. He wouldn’t call himself a human, but… then again, what was a human? What was a real definition of… human? Perhaps, in the end, everyone, every thing… was human, to an extent.
Valkyre didn’t reply. He stared up at the sky, closing his eyes, letting the soft wind pull at his clothing and stir his hair, coaxing, reminding him of feelings buried long ago, of a form of happiness he hadn’t seemed able to find.
And he wanted to live.
The other shifted, and Valkyre blinked open his eyes again.
“Corryn.”
The crossbreed glanced at the other out of the corner of his eye, letting the wind run fingers through his hair, flicking lightly over his skin.
“…Thank you.”
Valkyre only looked over after he’d spoken, searching for a reaction. But Corryn’s face was turned away, hair pushed over his eyes. The crossbreed thought he saw a grin in the dark, a brief flash of teeth.
“Valkyre. You”-
A sound cut through the air, sharp and crystalline, and it made the crossbreed’s blood run cold.
It was a scream, echoing against the sharp stone slopes of the mountains, rebounding off of the cliffsides, and-
Suddenly, abruptly cut short, with the faintest sound of a gargled choke.
Valkyre snapped his head around, looking for the source. He was filled with a mixture of anxiety and relief when he realized who the voice belonged to: Caerwyn.
Without a word, Corryn leapt into the darkness. Valkyre took off as well, begging his feet to remain steady as they pounded over the hard-baked dirt ground, each step a blind leap into darkness, each landing a jolt of pain through his system.
Iris. Who was still… Raguel? It must have been. Of course. Asher couldn’t really be expected to take on Raguel, not in the shape he was in. Even with the magic to dull his wounds… of course not.
And Caerwyn… Caerwyn had sworn to protect Iris. If it had really been his voice just then, then… Iris…
The world became a blur, Valkyre’s body moving as if of its own will, never fast enough for him, each movement slow and leaden. He hardly noticed when he entered the graveyard again, gloved hands brushing over rough-hewn stone smoothened by age alone, half-stumbling over fallen monuments and crosses and wings, crushing brown and dried underbrush beneath his boots, breaths deafening in his ears.
Valkyre didn’t know what route he was taking. He didn’t know where Corryn had been. Everything hurt, and the world seemed on fire, only smothered in black tainted red, the shadows pulling him and restraining him, fighting him at every step.
He needed to find Iris. But he didn’t know which direction it was, and wherever he looked, there was nothing but shadow to smother the void.
If Iris hadn’t cried out, he might’ve blundered on blindly, missing the boy completely. Valkyre slammed against a heavy black wall of stone at the sharp cry to his left, whirling around. Hands out, he groped around the tilted monument of granite, stumbling for only two steps before he suddenly found himself in a tiny clearing, ringed in shadows and jaws of stone, and –
Iris, in the center, head tilted back, delicate mouth agape in a scream that had fallen silent, small body limp, feet dangling above the ground, Raguel’s hands digging into his tender arms-
Valkyre stared in shock as the half-blooded male suddenly sank his teeth into the base of Iris’s neck. The blood broke through the skin instantly, pooling and running down the boy’s marble-white neck, soaking the edge of the worn and tattered shirt, staining the white teeth-
“Iris!!”
The boy’s mouth fell shut, head falling forward limply, rolling. Raguel’s mouth broke away, red and yellow eyes flashing in the dark, finding him, locking on to him. Through the blood running down his pale skin, through his red-stained teeth, Raguel… smiled.
“Valkyre.” His voice was low, barely above a breathy whisper. “This is the sacrifice, Valkyre. In blood.” Slowly, the half-blood’s tongue ran over his lips, smearing the red. “Will you join it? Your blood”-
Raguel cut off suddenly, attentive. Valkyre wanted to move, to run, but his feet felt frozen, his body wrapped in shadows, held down in place. He stared, watching as Iris’s frame shuddered, as the boy weakly raised his head, gray eyes hollow and empty, distant, unfocusing.
And yet, through the dark, through the shadows and the pain and everything… those gray eyes saw him, and Iris smiled.
“Val…kyre.”
Something silvery-gray ran down the boy’s cheek, dripping from his chin. Iris’s mouth was open, saying something else, barely audible. There was a sound then, the sound of ripping wings and fabric, a startled shout from Raguel. What happened then was broken into frames Valkyre couldn’t quite place back in order again, his own body stumbling forward half-steps yet stopping again, too slow, too burdened, unable to catch up, his mind still trying to process those last few words.
Iris’s wings snapped from his back, angel’s feather’s glowing like the sun itself, pure and bright, the demon’s webbed joints tipped to the sky, sharp and angular, folding the world in its translucent membrane, smothering it all in soft warm darkness, like velvet tainted blood-red. Raguel was moving, snarling, mouth open.
And Iris, Iris’s eyes… they flashed red in the dark, the small face suddenly changing into something Valkyre hardly recognized, small mouth gaping open, teeth glinting pearly white. He saw Iris whirl around in midair, saw a thin pale hand lash out with startling speed, saw red and heard a ripping crunch, a flurry of movement as Raguel’s hands turned to claws and lashed out as well, blindly, Iris’s wings flaring and snapping, the two both tumbling down onto the ground.
And then the world snapped back into itself. Valkyre’s feet broke as if from a sheath of ice, and he stumbled forward, dropping down, hands grabbing for the boy washed in dark grays, skin pale as moonlight, the two wings sagging and folding back into nothingness even as the crossbreed tugged at the small body, prying off Raguel’s one hand, which had dug down into the boy’s shoulder hard enough to draw blood, fingernails buried in the skin.
Iris turned around, suddenly, and Valkyre stopped abruptly, dropping to one knee as if the wind had been knocked out of him.
Iris stared back at him, eyes wide, hair a tangled mess, tears running down his face. The boy was streaked in blood, drops splattered on his cheek, running down with his tears. His dirty white shirt was crusted with fresh red stains dark like shadows in the dim light, and his pale skin…
His one arm was drenched in blood. His small hand was burrowed in Raguel’s chest, animal-like fingers still tense and clenched in the other’s body, fragile blue veins strained along the arm and back of the hand, small knuckles sharp and bony.
“…V-Valkyre…”
He was crying, sobbing now, and Valkyre was finally realizing the words Iris had spoke to him earlier, soundless, smiling.
“…I… love you.”
Valkyre leaned over. His hand reached out slowly, gently, touching the boy’s one bloodied arm, carefully, painstakingly prying the other’s fingers loose. He pulled the boy away from Raguel’s limp body, and held the frail body to his own, clutching him tightly, breaths coming short and fast. Valkyre felt the fragile, delicate frame in his embrace, the one arm slowly relaxing and going limp, the boy’s tangled gray hair pressing to his neck and collar, the soft thighs resting in his lap, weighted down so slightly he thought the boy would float away were he to let go.
Valkyre felt a small hand reach up to his unwounded shoulder, gripping him tightly, almost painfully. And held there in his arms, Iris cried. The young boy’s body shook with sobs, each breath sharp and painful, gasping. The tears ran now, like a river, streaking over the pale skin and mixing with the dark stains of blood, dripping over skin and soaking into the torn and tattered clothing.
Valkyre held Iris in his arms and he let the boy cry his heart out. He said not a word, only closed his eyes and felt the small form warm in his arms, let the sobs rock through his body, the blowing wind only making him clutch the boy against himself even harder, afraid of losing him ever again, to anything, anyone, anywhere.
And then the sobs slowed and ceased, the boy’s breathing slowly growing regular, falling into the predictable, set rhythmic rise and fall of the small chest. At length, the boy shifted and Valkyre looked down into the tear-stained face, gray eyes edged in red from crying, small smudge of red on a cheek still left over from the blood.
Valkyre merely smiled. He could think of no words to say, no reassurances. The boy’s neck was slicked in blood, but it did not seem to be flowing freely. Valkyre gently touched a finger to the punctured skin, wiping slowly at the dark blood. Underneath his fingertip, something sharp and darker showed. It took the crossbreed a moment to recognize the tip of the tattooed bat’s wing, small talon at the end hooked in the crook of the boy’s neck.
Iris shifted suddenly, turning to face Valkyre. The boy stood up on his knees, arms slowly, tentatively rising and looping over Valkyre’s shoulder, fingers crossing at the nape of his neck. Surprised, the crossbreed stared into Iris’s face, at the gray eyes that seemed, almost, to flash the faintest hint of a color besides their normal monotone.
“Val…kyre. Valkyre.”
Iris smiled, soft and slow, and… sad.
The boy leaned over then, and pressed their lips together. It was simple, quick and chaste, yet it froze Valkyre’s body, sent his heart to racing, his every nerve on end. He felt a sharp sensation run through his body, so fierce it was almost painful, and yet, he didn’t know what it was, couldn’t understand where it had come from. He remembered Iris’s words, remembered the warm eyes and the ceaseless sobbing, like the world was being torn apart. He remembered the night sky drenched in stars, painted in the softest hues of blue and violet and green, waiting beyond those clouds.
Valkyre opened his mouth to speak, Iris’s lips pulling back. But the boy was moving, arms dropping from Valkyre’s shoulders. The boy pressed a bloody finger to the crossbreed’s lips, and Valkyre felt as if he’d been locked in a spell, unable to move. Iris… he’d just seen Iris kill another living being, could even taste the sharp, salty blood on his lips right now. But…
There was the sound of a blade being pulled from its sheath. Valkyre glanced down, sharply. Iris held the dagger in his hands, staring at the cold metal, blood smearing along the blue-silver blade.
“…I…ris?”
The boy looked up, his hand gripping the dagger by the hilt firmly, small pale fingers clenched. He smiled.
“Valkyre.”
The boy held the blade level with his eyes, though his soft gaze was on the other’s, holding on to the violet eyes tinted red.
“Thank you.”
Iris moved smoothly, decisively. He drew the blade over the blood-smeared base of his neck, splitting through the tattoo of the bat, then quickly switched over to the other side of his shoulder, blade just biting along the surface of his skin, drawing fresh blood as it ran through a dark shape over his pale skin- the tattoo of the wolf, jaws opened, body twisted as if in liquid motion.
Iris’s hand trembled, the blade’s smooth line running jagged just before he lifted it from his skin.
“Iris-!”
The boy was hunched over, shivering, trembling uncontrollably. The blade dripped blood onto a thin, pale calf, splattering black on white. Valkyre reached over, fingers almost touching the fresh cuts, bewildered. What was Iris doing? What was going-
The boy’s shoulder moved. Valkyre froze, startled. He stared at the boy’s shoulder. A black shadow was seeping out, too dark for blood, liquid yet not, more like warm flowing ink, thin as a knife’s edge. And even as Valkyre watched, even as Iris trembled and shook, the black thing took shape. It rose up and fell back, it pulled and twisted at the skin, it sprawled out spiky wings and yawned open an inhuman jaw, tipped in tiny, sharp teeth.
The bat pulled itself free from Iris’s body, the tattoo drawn up through the skin, more like a two-dimensional shadow than a living creature, and it rose up into the air. As the crossbreed watched, the elongated shape changed and shifted, wings stretching, jaws agape. The aura of vampires, dark and cool, coursing with heat beneath, filled his senses.
And then it rose up into the air, and it flitted into the shadows of the sky.
Iris gasped, doubling over. Valkyre jerked his attention back, grabbing the boy suddenly before he fell over, staring in shock as he watched the second shape pull at its inked edges and rise through the cut, the wolf’s sharp, angular muzzle pointed to the sky, mouth open in a silent howl, fur slicked and ruffled yet silent as water over fingers, slipping out with an impossible ease, vanishing in and out of view, drifting in black, eyes a void. It rose, in silence, and loped up along the stone, a shadow on its surface, hardly hesitating as it broke into the sky.
“Valkyre.”
Iris was looking at him, smiling. There was a weariness to his eyes, and a relief. His gray eyes spoke all the words, slowly pushed in the understanding.
Iris picked up the dagger again, and, although Valkyre felt a sharp tug at his heart, felt a burst in his chest as if of pain, felt cold fear running down his spine, he did not stop him.
He only watched, hands supporting the boy, holding him up, as Iris drew the knife’s edge along the hawk on his shoulder, over the serpent’s coils on his arm, splitting in two the horse dancing just below his collarbone, and the fish whose tail flicked over the boy’s other shoulder, riding along the collarbone.
Valkyre watched in silence as the ink turned to shadows stained in blood, as the animals, the auras, and the sentient beings slowly rose up and left the boy’s body, skimming along the surface, turning to living carvings in the stone, sliding above the dust, carried away by the wind and the smell, again, cool and sweet on the air.
And then Iris put the blade into Valkyre’s hands.
The crossbreed stared down at the dagger, edge slick with blood, blackened with the leftover memories of ink.
Iris stared at him, smiling with his eyes alone. And then he turned his back.
His shirt was torn, ripped up by wings that shouldn’t have existed, splattered with blood, dusted with dirt.
Valkyre pushed aside the edges of the clothing, and stared at the last of his handiwork. The dragon and the phoenix were still there, feather and tail twined, the demon and the angel wing expanded and flared, taking up all of the boy’s back. He could feel the boy’s pain, and he knew that this was what had to be done.
The hilt of the blade was wet in Valkyre’s hand. His fingers trembled, twitching. He felt like he couldn’t control them.
He knew this was what Iris wanted. He knew that, in the end, this was the point to everything. With this, he could release Iris from the unfair duty he’d been set to, the burden placed upon his frail shoulders, crushing the boy beneath, sealing away his heart, his emotions, his tears.
This was what he needed to free Iris, to change him from the gray-eyed boy into someone truly alive, clean and pure and strong enough, perhaps, to stand on his own, to live and breathe and run and sigh and sleep peacefully, curled up like an infant, body no longer so pale, eyes no longer dry, a gray shadow blending into a shadow.
Iris could become… a boy. Nothing more, nothing less. No longer antithesis, no longer the end of the world or the savior or herald to a beginning again, to destruction or salvation or resurrection. He could simply be… himself.
But what, Valkyre thought, did that mean?
When you took away all that made up what Iris was… what would be left? No longer angel and demon, angel or demon, no longer the boy without tears or the child with gray stone eyes in the ruins, with silent sighs and soft cool hands…
…Would Iris die?
Valkyre stared down at the blade in his hands.
He realized that, with this motion, this placement of trust and finality, Iris had given him the choice.
It was his to decide, what the boy’s fate should be. It was his hand that would carve out the path, that would set him free or hold him changed, kill him or save him or doom him.
Valkyre felt a shudder run through his body. At first, he didn’t know what it was. It made his whole frame tremble, his hand shake.
And then, he realized he was laughing.
Valkyre closed his eyes, breathing in deeply then exhaling, letting the tension flow free, letting his body relax as he searched his mind, his self, and his heart… for something.
The crossbreed opened his eyes again, and he stared down at the blade. His eyes were reflected in it, the delicate violet of his mother’s, the sharp angle and shape and draw of his father’s. His fingers closed around the hilt, strong and steady.
Valkyre leaned close, kissing Iris on the back of the neck, soft and simple. He mouthed the boy’s name against Iris’s skin, tasting something clean and pure like river water, like white clouds soft and thin as silk.
And then he pulled back. His hand moved slowly, sure and precise. The blade carved a thin, smooth, arcing line along the dragon’s spine, following it up into the flare of the taloned, tipped wing. The blade rose from the boy’s pale skin, then kissed it again as it ran along the serpentine neck of the phoenix, tracing the line of the long, curved flight feathers to their delicate tips.
The blade fell to the ground then, and Valkyre’s hand formed a fist, the only way he knew to control the trembling that took over. He watched in silence as the boy hunched over, shivering slightly, as the phoenix and the dragon pulled their inky details and intricacies from Iris’s skin, rising up into the air, playing shadow over shadow, torn apart at last by the wind.
And with the clouds in the sky dripping down on them, thick and heavy, he watched with Iris as the angel and the demon rose from the frail body, faces all too human, one crowned in feathers and golden light, pale hands reaching out, soft and warm, the other blacker than the sky above, void of color in a sky alight with grays, blues, violets, and greens, frame thin and elegant, fingernails long and tipped, cool and sharp, edged wing sighing on itself.
And then they were gone to the sky, and Valkyre was staring down at the boy in his lap, still and silent, mouth open.
The crossbreed leaned over, and he felt a shudder run through his body. His eyes grew hot all of a sudden, and suddenly, he was watching as his vision blurred and cleared, and as drops fell onto Iris’s pale skin, rolling off the smooth, rounded surfaces, so childish, so perfect and unmarred, flawless.
Valkyre was crying.
He held the limp form in his arms, staring at the clear skin and fragile limbs, the small hands cupped like flowers, the hair falling free from the face.
And then Iris opened his eyes, his eyes that were colored like the night sky, and the boy smiled.
Iris raised an arm, slowly, weakly, fingers opening to the clouds above. Valkyre paused, the feelings in him welling over, a flood he couldn’t control, an ocean of stars pouring out from a black hole, unstoppable, scattering to every corner of the world, filling every void.
He looked up, staring into the great dark gray underbelly of a cloud. He hesitated, registering what he saw. Valkyre glanced to the east, and saw the faintest hints of green, indigo, and violet over the horizon. Dawn was coming. The night was over.
And then the first drops began to fall.
Valkyre tilted his head back, closing his eyes. His one hand found Iris’s, thin and slender, and he clenched it, tightly, in his own.
And the clouds in the sky broke open with a sigh, and Valkyre and Iris held each other’s hands as the rain fell down onto the earth.

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AN: THANK YOU EVERYBODY.

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