There was a saying that it never rained, but it poured. Liliana knew that she’d seen rain in spatters and gentle taps. In the slow stream of droplets down a pane of glass. She knew the mist of rain and the kiss of it against her face. With the torrent that fell over the docklands outside, she could understand the saying. She missed being on patrol in the mountains that bordered the deserts. She missed the Khamarra Mountains and the heat that lingered through dusk. In comparison to the simpler life of a Knight with duties and orders to carry out, this was awful.
The weather was disgusting, heavy drops pelting through her leggings, rainwater slipping into the front of her hood and trickling down her neck to soak into her shirt. With the rain falling like the sea from the sky it was hard to
