I thought it was high time I let you know I'm still alive! So! Here's an excerpt from my current WIP, the title for which I've yet decided. For context, it's basically a revamp of my own fic in the searing sands, so it obviously strays from canon where everyone lives and Tirzad is a BAMF. I will not be told off from fixing canon. Anyway!
“Do you think they’ll be back?” Tirzad found himself asking anxiously.
Jebrael seemed to regard him for a moment. It felt both unfair and unsettling how his mask concealed any emotion that could have painted his face, but for all that even his mouth seemed dreadfully inexpressive.
To Tirzad’s dismay, the sigh Jebrael released held some amount of impatience, bordering on a huff. “The ruins go ever-deeper. There is no ‘going back’, only pressing forward.”
And was that not why Tirzad often regretted choosing him over his many other, certainly less brusque-mannered candidates?
Tirzad was the one to huff, clearly appalled. He tried to think of something to say in retaliation, but his inexperience with these things made him bite his tongue. He placed his pack down and began rummaging through his things, procuring his trusty journal and a pen from its leathered depths.
Only when he sat down to begin sketching a map of the areas they’d covered thus far did he think to open his mouth again. “You’d think of watching your tongue next time, once I’ve decided that Aether proves to be a better guide than you are,” he said pointedly.
