Here's the next chapter.

Fleck shook his head. He felt slightly terrified by this ferocious warrior, and he slowly felt his hand drifting to his back scabbard. He still had Starlight, his actual sword, with him.

“Ah, I see. You’re a warrior.” She said, slowly.

Fleck shook his head. He sure didn’t feel like a warrior, just like a coward who called himself a fighter.

“Hm. I’m Midnight, Midnight Blackstar.” She spoke.

His cousin, then. Fleck felt like he recognized her. He risked a glance at his foot, where the pickaxe was still caught, and sighed.

“I… I’m Fleck. Fleck Justice Cove.” He spoke. His voice sounded so small in the echoey cavern as he wished more than anything he was a true warrior. “I need help, but I don’t want it… and… I kinda upset my friend and my brother must be looking for me. I better go.”

Midnight shook her head. “No way. You’re injured.”

“I’ll be fine. I’ve had worse.” Fleck said, smiling. He drew his sword and leaned heavily against the hilt, standing up.

Starlight glowed, flashing intricate patterns that lit the shaft.

“Okay. Suits me fine.” Midnight called.

“Sure. Also, nice wings.” He said, lifting his sword and falling to the ground.

“Hmph.” He said. Fleck pulled the pick from his foot, wincing.

Midnight grinned. “Want me to show you the resistance tunnel thingy?” She asked.

But Fleck had regained his feet. “Like I said, I’ll be fine. I don’t trust you.” With that, he sheathed his sword and sprinted off.

“He’s some warrior.” Midnight thought.

………………………………………….

Outside, Fleck jogged a ways. His shoulder hurt less now. He figured it’ just been twisted, he’d be fine.

Eventually, he ran into Bastille and Stretch. Another rabbit was with them, a young doe with sandy fur, small hazel markings, light blue eyes, and a red flower on one ear.

“Heyo, Trinity and Bastille!” a voice came from the side. Midnight walked up. “And Fleck.”

“What in the blue moss hills did I miss?” Fleck asked, laughing.

“A lot. I’m Trinity, you must be Fleck.”

“Yep.”

“We should start a team.” Bastille said.

“What are we gonna call it?” Fleck asked.

“Skyward Flight?” Bastille muttered.

“Sounds good. But I don’t want to join a team.” Stretch said, sighing. “I’m the lone fighter.”

And that was how Skyward Flight started. Midnight, Trinity, Bastille, and Fleck, the four unsung heroes of the mending. Their oath is thus:

“My place beside you,

My blood for yours,

Till the Green Ember Rises,

Or the end of the world.

Brave till the end,

No backing down,

Cowards are revoked,

We stay in the skies.

Skyward Flight!”

-Fleck Cove