Moonlark Turned Evil

Inktober Special: Dream

It's inktober, so naturally I've gotta write some special oneshots!! I'm challenging myself to write one a day, for each of the prompts. They'll all be way shorter than my normal chapters, but I hope y'all enjoy them anyways~

Just to clarify—this chapter is set way before the prologue. It's from when Fintan and Gethen were children, meaning like, thousands of years ago. They'd be in their late teens right now, I think—like sixteen or seventeen.

Fintan started awake in the dull gloom of an early morning, his breathing sharp and uneven. The air beyond the window was cold, misty, signaling the beginning of autumn.

"Are you okay?" a voice asked quietly.

"Yeah," Fintan muttered, focusing on the rabbit hopping along the dew stained grass.

Callused hands closed around his own, and Fintan turned to look properly at Gethen.

The Telepath was dressed in simple black sleep wear, his white blonde hair fuzzy and all over the place. There was a mark on his cheek where his pillow must've pressed into his skin. The faint light brought out the blue in his eyes. "Are you sure?"

"Mhm."

Gethen sighed, and then pulled him out of bed.

"Wha—" Fintan stumbled as his roommate marched him over to the doorway, throwing on a coat and tossing Fintan one, too.

Grudgingly, Fintan passed his arms through the sleeves of the coat, and let Gethen lead him into the corridor.

It was early, just as he'd thought—early enough that no one in the cliffside Neverseen base was awake yet. Or maybe some of them were awake, and had just decided to stay in their rooms.

The pair walked through the corridors silently, without much chatter. Gethen kept a firm grip on Fintan's arm as they navigated the twisting hallways, as if making sure that he wasn't going to slip away. They knew the way pretty well, since they'd been living there for a few months already.

Fintan watched the lamps on the walls flicker. They'd been designed to mimic candles and give off soft warmth in the mornings and late evenings.

They turned right, and the doorway came into view.

Gethen put a hand on the door handle and pushed.

Cold air flooded into the base, and Fintan buried his hands deeper into his pockets. The frost was like a knife against his face. Gethen started out through the entrance, and Fintan hurried after him, flinching as the wind whipped up and tossed his hair around.

The stars above them were brighter than anything inside the base, shining proudly in the inky darkness of the freezing autumn morning. In the distance, the full moon was still faintly visible, determined to tell people of its presence in the time it had before it sank beneath the horizon.

"Remind me why we're here?" he asked Gethen. His words clouded before him in puffs, tickling his nose.

"So we can die, obviously." Gethen released his arm, spinning around wildly around and coming to a stop a few meters away with his arms spread. "No, silly! Night air is good for bad dreams," he said matter of factly.

Fintan stuck out his lip in a pout. "It wasn't a nightmare."

Gethen raised an eyebrow. "Whatever you say."

Fintan sighed. "Gethen, are we even allowed outside?"

"It's not like anyone's gonna find out, even if we're not," Gethen said. He turned around, slipping on the dew, his arms still outstretched. "Come on."