AYLETH
Ayleth and Falek had barely made it out of her chambers, her slippers shuffling quietly on the stone floor of the corridor outside her own door, when heavy, booted footsteps echoed behind them—running. All her training kicked in and without thought, Aylet sucked in and darted forward as, in one smooth motion, Falek whirled to put himself between Ayleth and their pursuer mid-stride, his hand on the hilt of his sword, the other arm out to cover her from approaching the threat.
