Glass: A Collection of Rainimator Backstories

Flint

Azura had hastily made her way down the streets of the Frostbourne Castle until she got to the rundown district where the bandits resided. She kept her guard up in this untamed part of town, keeping the hefty bundle of gold, silver and copper coins under her arms, in hopes that other bandits wouldn't notice it and try anything rash.

After some long minutes of travel in town, she finally reached it. A smaller house on the end of the block she was in, and standing at the front porch was Flint, who she met with a relieved face.

"Thank goodness you're home," Azura stated, as she threw down the bundle to his feet, "Here's your payment, for your aid on the front lines, Flint. We need you so we can secure the end crystal from the-"

"No," Flint said coldly, which broke Azura's train of thought.

"W-what? But surely this is enough-"

"It's not about the damn money. No amount of gold or silver will get me to join you or any Frostbourne in such a fight! You're lucky I even gave you an ear to hear you out, but it ain't happening! Not now... not ever again!"

Azura was shocked by Flint's reluctant and sharp words. She remembered how eager he was to defeat the enemies at the wither camp, so this new side to the bandit she thought she knew was unfamiliar territory to her.

"But, we need all the people we can get!" Azura exclaimed, "The wither angels greatly outnumber us! If what the Netherbane say is true, we're in a great deal of trouble."

"Do you even hear yourself right now?" Flint questioned.

"What do you mean," Azura asked.

"The wither skeleton camp... the battle of the Far Plains!? It's all the same! You've used us bandits when it's been the most convenient! You've used us as fodder!"

"No we haven't!" Azura returned, "Daryll had agreed to our terms, it was for the betterment of our people-"

"Your people," Flint emphasized, "You made Daryll march to his death when he knew it was pointless."

"Daryll fought and died honorably on the battlefield! He saved countless lives with his sacrifice and slowed the Horde from further advancements while you sat and did nothing."

"Died honorably," Flint repeated, while air-quoting with his fingers, "In a reckless and futile attempt to stop... any of this!!!"

"He fought for the protection of us all! He fought for the people he loved! I thought you of all people would understand what it meant to put your life on the line for the sake of others!" Azura yelled, "I thought you'd underst-"

"Yeah?!" Flint said, stepping closer to Azura with his teeth clenched, "Well you don't seem to understand just how much Daryll's life meant to me!"

Just as Flint said that statement, a wave of adrenaline washed over him as he realized just what he hinted at. Knowing Azura's analytical nature, and judging from the look on her stunned face, he knew that she knows.

Azura looked down at her feet and at the bundle that divided them. "Did you... want to talk about it?"

...

Azura and Flint had traveled outside of the Bandit settlement and approached the gravesite where Daryll was laid to rest. He helped Azura down to be seated, before he too sat beside Daryll's grave and let out a deep sigh.

"You know," Flint smiled as he wiped a tear in his eye, "I never would've thought I would tell anyone about this... about how I loved another man. Never really knew how people would take it. But I'm glad it's at least someone I know to some extent."

"It doesn't matter who you love, as long as those feelings you have with them are genuine. Now, do tell me what you need to," Azura said, trying to not overstep the already tense situation between them. Flint had trusted her with this secret of his, even if by mistake, and she did not want to stomp on that trust."

"Let me take you back to where it all began," Flint replied, "At a small settlement in the middle of the desert badlands."

...

(Flint POV)

I knew Daryll from a very young age. I was seven, and he was eight at the time. It all began there in that settlement where we lived. It should be known that this settlement was comprised of mostly people who struggled. I was one of the luckier ones, who at least could afford basic needs... but Daryll, wasn't nearly as lucky.

"HEY! Stop that kid!" The merchant of a market stall yelled. I looked up and into the direction of the merchant, and was soon met with a head-on collision with the kid who stole bread from his stall. We both fell over, but he quickly got up and off me and whispered a quick "Sorry!" before darting into the nearby alleyway. 

The merchant soon followed behind to pursue that rascal of a kid, and her husband hoisted me up and off the ground.

"Are you alright?" He asked me, brushing the sleeves of my t-shirt as though I were extremely dusty.

"Y-yeah, I'm fine," I replied, "What's going on?"

"That little brat," the man started, "We've suspected him to be stealing from us for a while now, but now, oho, now we actually caught him in the act! The little bugger snatched himself bread and ran off with it! Just ran off! Can you believe that?!"

I looked up in bewilderment at what the shopkeeper's husband said, and he added, "Ah who am I kidding? You're just a kid."

"N-no!" I exclaimed, "I know exactly what you're talking about! Man thieves I tell you!" 

"I GOT HIM!" The merchant yelled as she held the squirming boy by the back of his collar. She grabbed ahold of the loaves of bread and scoffed at the sight of one being half-eaten, "Uggggh are you serious!?"

The kid looked up and locked his weary eyes with the angry shopkeepers. She then threw him and the half-eaten loaf to the ground, before muttering, "Get lost."

The kid nodded, still shaken by the exchange, grabbed ahold of the half-eaten loaf and bailed. I watched the kid run off, then looked back at the couple who left the scene as if nothing had happened in the first place. It made me feel sick, and I felt pity for that kid. 

I ran in the same direction as the kid went until I finally met him, again, in an alleyway, behind some old oak fencing. When he saw my face, he jumped, and was about to bolt it once more before I said, "No wait! I'm not here for the bread! I'm not with that couple of psychos either."

The boy turned around and met my gaze. Finally, he spoke. "Then what are you here for?"

I stood there in silence. Why was it exactly that I came here to talk to a thief? What was it that brought me to do this?

"I just- I don't know... W-why did you steal that bread?" I said cautiously as I pointed to what was left of the loaf, "Stealing is bad you know? You're lucky they didn't do worse."

The kid looked at this half-eaten loaf with a saddened expression. He replied gently, "Hungry."

It was then, that I connected the dots. He didn't steal the bread for the sake of stealing. He couldn't afford it.

"I see," I replied, "Say uhhh... will you stay here for a moment?"

The kid shrugged, which I took as his word of agreeance, and later that evening, just as the sun was setting, I arrived to see him huddled up against the fence post, resting.

He opened his eyes sleepily and was met with my outstretched hand, which held a loaf of bread between us.

"I went and paid for the loaf you stole too, so don't worry about it," I said as I gave him a smile, "The name's Flint, by the way. What's yours?"

The kid grabbed the loaf of bread in my hand and smiled back, "Daryll... Thank you."

I sat down on the other side of the fence while he mowed down on the bread I gave him. It was from this point that we would soon become friends.