I Am A Flyer

II: The Thread Unravels

"Owwwww." It was kind of pointless to moan, but it served to make Jett feel better. Even if it was slightly childish of him. He shifted, shoving his pillow beneath his chest to prop himself up. Even that slightest movement sent spears of pain down his backside, and he was tempted to let loose another moan.

Instead, he looked over to Suil, who was lying in a similar position – flat on his stomach, hands and head propped up on a pillow. His usually spiky hair was now a droopy brown mess. Jett managed a weak grin. His friend looked as miserable as he felt.

"Suil?"

The droopy-haired boy turned unhappy eyes onto Jett, looking very much like a sad puppy. For a moment, they just looked at each other, caught in a strange moment. Then Suil snickered. Jett giggled. Both broke into a quiet laughter, wincing as the effort caused them pain, but unwilling to stop anyway. The whole thing was just so hilarious.

"Let's get this straight," Suil began, once he managed to stop laughing. "We saved Iern from being carted away by the Kairg, thus preventing the Kairg from finding out anything that they shouldn't. If it weren't for us, they wouldn't have noticed Iern was gone until tomorrow, and then they'd be distraught because they lost one of their precious trainees. Right?"

"Yeah," Jett agreed.

"So, you could say we did the right thing."

"Definitely!"

"Great. So why did they beat us, then? What was the point?" Suil scowled, waving his hand to cut off Jett's reply. "Wait, don't answer that. I was listening during the whole lecture; they didn't appreciate us wandering off into enemy territory without asking permission first, and so on and so forth. Which, in my opinion, shouldn't have earned us that kind of beating."

"At least it wasn't one of the Twelve that did the beating," Jett offered, suppressing a shudder. That was a scary idea. On the other hand, it would have been much better if one of those Elder's did the caning. They were old, and probably weren't as strong as the others, which meant it wouldn't have hurt as much. Although. . .to be bent on all fours in front of one of those old codgers – eh...that was repulsing. They'd probably just make him bow before them for a whole day, in order to relish in their glory and power.

"Thank God," muttered Suil. He dropped his head into his pillow, his voice becoming muffled. "How do you deal with it, Jett?"

"Huh? You mean with Lante? He's not so bad. Actually, he's fairly nice – not like the others at all."

Suil snorted, then turned his head to face Jett. "That's not what I mean, Jett. How do you manage to surround yourself with so many of them? You got Raven to train you, and he's probably the most famous of the Twelve to start with. Then you get Lante, who's a genius when it comes to explosives. If you knew just what he was carrying around with him, you'd stay far away from him. And there's also Syk."

Jett cringed. "S-syk? He doesn't train me." Thank goodness for that!

"No, but he's awfully interested in you."

"W-What?!" Jett pushed himself upwards, suddenly alarmed.

Muffled laughter came from the droopy-haired boy. "Not like that, Jett! I just noticed that whenever you're in his line of vision, he just. . .watches you. That's all."

"That's not much better," came the grumbled reply. "That makes him sound like some kind of creepy stalker."

Having run out of things to say, they fell into an easy, companionable silence. They watched the ongoings of the tent around them, which consisted of five flyers sleeping in their own beds, and another three playing some kind of card game. There were a lot of empty, unmade beds, along with several weapons thrown haphazardly on top. It appeared that most of the tent's occupants were either out to get some food, or merely wandering about to stave off boredom. Which wasn't much of an uncommon thing, especially when it came to the younger, newer flyers. They tended to be a lot more restless than their older, experienced counterparts.