Across the shaking flats, Anaximander looked over at him through the heavy winds. There was no fear in the scholar's face. There was something quieter and heavier, sitting beside the fresh sadness already there.
"What is happening to you?" he asked somberly.
Noah raised his hands and looked at them.
CREAK!
Space distorted around his fingers as he lifted them, thin lines of strain webbing out through the air and sealing themselves shut again, the domain flinching away from ten ordinary fingers!
"I am expressing myself," Noah said. "Fully. Who I am, all of it, all at once."
He turned his hands over slowly, watching the air bend. "I don't have control over it yet."
He lowered his hands.
"But the solution should be easy."
He breathed out and closed his eyes again.
