#breen darlon

[larissa-the-scribe]

Rescue Failed Successfully: Character List

Flynd Assimay: Impulsive, smart, cares deeply… but could stand to listen to others a bit more. Maybe brush the chip off his shoulder.

Donryk Crestoc: A somewhat reforming thief kid who is very good at hiding everything. Including crippling self-esteem

Redrana Darlon: Someone’s gotta be the responsible one. Also cook.

Breen Darlon: Actually a lot more than just the baby of the group, thank you very much, he’s also an inventor.

Ylmae Wythar: Book nerd and assistant librarian to her adopted mom; she should probably be less enthusiastic about getting to document a war.

Jinar Nardë: Quiet, restless, very aware that he sticks out. Misses his dad.

Abryna Tienenar: There’s so much of the world outside the caves. Maybe if she survives the war she can see it for herself.

General Graynor Ackrol: Tired. So tired of fighting. Will the cycle of wars never end?

Chief Ziarr SaKalayo: He’s sick of him and his people being forced underground, and he will fight his way out.

Loryth Sakia: Aspiring musician. Usually there to take care of his younger cousin. Unfortunately for him, ends up wrong place, wrong time.

World: Kosmyldar, Raskarr. Country: Nyviu

[larissa-the-scribe]

Steps in the Dark

“You sure we can trust her?” Breen whispered, hovering by Flynd’s shoulder.

“I don’t think there’d be any point in tricking us,” Flynd replied. “If she were going to take us somewhere and execute us, why? We’re supposed to be dead by tomorrow, anyway.”

“Your friend makes a good point.” The fair-skinned girl turned back and smiled slightly. “Also you should probably keep your voice down.”

Breen nodded, walking even closer to Flynd.

Whatever the plan was, he hoped it’d be quick. He thought he had gotten used to the darkness, but somehow the dim glow from the girl’s dagger made the blackness beyond deeper and more inscrutable. It felt like a hundred Flame Warriors could be sneaking up on them beyond their ring of light and they’d be none the wiser until it was too late.

“We’ll be out of the main territory in a bit,” the girl whispered. “The back way takes longer but is much safer. No one ever goes there.”

Flynd nodded. He blinked. The light looked strange for a second—even stranger than a fire-engulfed dagger should look. Whirling, blurred.

He shook his head in an attempt to clear it.

Oh come on! Not now!

The tunnel around him continued to spin, heedless of his feelings.

Breen grabbed his arm as he tottered on his next step.

“You okay?” Breen hissed. “Is it… you know?” He looked furtively at their guide, who had stopped and was watching them quizzically.

He steadied himself on Breen’s shoulder. The world continued to turn beneath them, and above them, and around them. “Yeah, it seems like it.”

“Something wrong?” The girl asked, coming closer.

“It’ll be fine,” Flynd said, walking forward and almost tripping over his feet. “I might just be a bit slower from now on.”

Her face was too blank to suggest what she thought of this. She just nodded and motioned them forward.

Flynd kept his hand on Breen’s shoulder for balance. It was almost good that they hadn’t been fed recently—there was nothing in his stomach for him to throw up. This spinning would last for a minute or so—then would come the migraine. His condition turning up just then did make sense, considering being a prisoner tended to add stress to one’s day to day life, but, well, he had hoped to make it back home before the getting an episode. Such was his luck.

For now, he just had to put one foot in front of the other, grit his teeth, and hope it was in the right direction.