Atlas woke up first out of their band. He sat up, looked around, and then yelled at everyone to get off their butts.
"Atlas, what the heck?" asked Alana, irritated.
"Immi, Immi's gone! Guys, I told you we shouldn't have taken her this way! Oh, god, this is all my fault, why did I let her go? No!"
"Atlas, calm down," said Italzi. "Look, there are footprints in the mud. We can find her, don't worry."
"You tell me not to worry! Listen, Immi is my best friend. Immi is my life. I can't let them do anything to her. They'll lock her up, Italzi! I swear I'll murder them, all of them." His eyes were bloodshot. His emotions were all over the place, he felt rage and despair and his utter failure to protect the one person he cared about all at the same time.
No one could calm him, no. Not until He was assured Immi was safe and sound. Which, clearly, Was not going to happen any time soom.
"Well... let's go do that, then." said Italzi. "Come on, let's go."
They packed up hurriedly and headed towards Crane. Depending on when in the night the mercenaries had taken Immi, they could already be halfway there. Atlas sprinted most of the way with Italzi close behind.
"Atlas!" yelled Alana from behind him.
"What!?"
"Dude, we're not gonna catch them."
"Yes we are, we are, Alana. We're going to, we have to. We need to. Hurry! Hurry!"
YOU ARE READING
Exile
FantasyI wrote a "book" with some old friends, starting in 7th grade and completing it in 8th. It tells the tales of an exiled girl on a mission to overthrow a horrid tyrant, with accomplices, situationships, and an enemy who may not be what people think.
