Re: [outside the Geardorm, just before curfew]
[And with timing their teamate would envy the torches flicker once, and—
It's not that they go out. There's no hiss of extinguished flame, no smell of smoke. It's that the light, all the light, all the space all around them drowns in darkness with the speed of a stone thrown into the lake.
The sounds that should be no more than a foot or two away cut off, even the sound of their own breathing being ... muffled, like the dark really was something thick about them. And under them, every time they shift, the ground seems to roll, gently . . . solid footing suddenly unsure.]