#thyssia firestorm

[vextera]

Commission of Thyssia Firestorm for @dorksworn~!

Commission Info

[ravenintheupdraft]

Breakout, pt. 2 - Blind

The door to his cell rattled open.

He’d been waiting for this.  Resigned himself to it.  He sat up, holding out his hands to be bound.  

“How disappointing; I was hoping they had shoved your direhorn in here with you. It would have made for great amusement.”

Wait.  

This wasn’t how this was supposed to happen.  

He stepped up, following Thyssia to the cell door and looking out.  

They were...escaping?

What?

How?

How did-

Now was not the time to consider that; now was the time to move.  

Ith followed the others out, overwhelming the guards, taking back their things.  It had never felt so good to load his rifle, the bolt sliding into place with a satisfying metallic double clack.  There wasn’t much time to enjoy it; time was working against them.  How they had escaped, where they were going- There wasn’t time to consider such things.  Check the next corner, watch this alleyway, cover the right flank; hundreds of hours at the range and hundreds of hours drilling made the motions automatic, rote.  Mechanical.  

He’d leapt over a wall, sweeping the left flank with his rifle when Vaelrin held up a hand.  Pressing against the wall, eyes snapped to where the Captain was looking.  

Lazarus? Wearing the blue?

You are blindly following the path you have found, without questioning the rightness that you walk it, the worthiness you have that it is yours to claim.

Instinct said to draw the rifle to his shoulder, brace against something, draw in a half breath, and shoot.  Standing, looking over Vaelrin’s shoulder as he squatted in a half-crouch, the wall already steadied him, sight posts were lined up-

You must learn to question when you do not understand-- do not blindly press forward when you have the chance to think.

‘I lost my father at a young age too,’ he made to put a hand on the young man’s shoulder, but thought better of it.  If Lazarus had wanted to be touched, he would have made himself open to it, ‘If you ever want to talk, Lazarus, you only have to ask.’

The rifle was lowered, his finger relaxed off the trigger.  

Wearing the blue wasn’t enough to condemn the young man to die.

Other things were more important, like making sure they escaped and that no one was left behind who didn’t want to be.  

(Thanks to @forever-afk, @dorksworn, and @treyu for their contributions.  I don’t have the original rp Laz, sorry, so I had to paraphrase)