Chapter Text
Chapter 2
Dain goes over our schedule the next morning. I have already memorized it, so I zone out. “You did good yesterday, even with Sgaeyl getting a little too close.” Freya yawns as she continues, “I want to let you know that you will have a link to Sgaeyl once we are fully bonded. I have a special bond that only one other sibling pair has had in history. You will have a bond to her and her rider.” Freya was warning me. She is one of the three most powerful dragons alive. She will be the largest and most powerful dragon in the quadrant.
Battle Brief might just kill me. The professors are feeding us supposedly unbiased reports of what is happening on our border with Poromiel. The gryphons raid our border for weapons to fight the vennin. Navarre leaves them defenseless. Xaden and some of the other second and third years are sneaking weapons out to drop points to help aid the gryphon fliers to hold off the vennin. “Stop daydreaming and focus.” Freya scolds me. “This information can be useful even though it always frames the fliers.”
“I am not willing to ask any questions yet because I would give us away. If I did, our whole operation would have meant nothing.” I respond through the bond in my mind. “All the Tyrrs know that they are trying to erase our history, cover up the vennin and wyvern. They need to train us how to fight vennin, not how to fight fliers.” I will never tell her that I think she is right. I am worried that Leadership will find out what Xaden is up to. Battle Brief is the only class not only taught by a rider, but also a scribe. Professor Markhum.
“I heard that.” Of course Freya heard. She is always with me. I am surprised she has been okay for the last few years. Dragons can’t be away from their riders for too long. “It is assessment day. I expect you will win your challenge later.” Why did she have to remind me? She seems like she is in a mood.
I zone out for most of the class, until I hear someone finally as a relevant question.
“What altitude was the village at?” the girl next to Violet, Rhiannon, asks.
“Just under ten thousand feet.” Markhum responds, “Why?”
“It just seems a little high for a planned attack.”
Professor Devera steps in, “It is a bit high, and why is that bothersome Cadet Sorrengail? And from now on, ask your own questions.”
Violet turns red. She was trying to lay low and failed spectacularly.
She answers, and then tries to come up with more answers. “You said that it took them an hour to arrive?” Devera nodded. “Then they were already on their way.” Violet concludes.
The room laughs. “Cadet Sorrengail is correct. The dragons could feel the wards braking, so the squad deployed. Now the floor is open to second and third years.”
After Battle Brief, I head down to the sparring gym. On assessment day, we get paired with someone to test our skill. Professor Emettario calls the next match. “Violet Sorrengail and Imogen Cardulo.” I look to my right and see Imogen smirk.
“This will be easy.” She steps forward onto the mat. This will be interesting. All of us Tyrs want her dead. Imogen lands a few hits. Violet is small and quick, easily ducking away from a few of her hits. Violet hasn’t had much training, and it shows. I get distracted looking at another mat, and then I hear a sickening crack. The noise appeared to come from Violet’s shoulder.
“She yields.” Emettario quickly rushes in before Imogen can do any more damage. She stalks over to me as I watch Violet being taken to the infirmary.
“Imogen, what were you thinking?” Garrick scolded.
“She deserved it.”
“Imogen is right,” I chime in. “Whatever she gets in this place she deserves.”
“And I don’t answer to you anyway. Arran is our section leader, not you.” Imogen shoots back.
I hear Xaden aprotching. “You may not answer to me, but you do answer to him.” Garrick steps to the side as Xaden comes into my view. We are screwed. Anger shown in his golden flecked, onyx eyes. He just silently nodded his head, indicating us to follow him. “This should be fun.” Freya loves drama. We walked into his room and he closed the door using lesser magic.
“Would any of you like to tell me what happened?” Imogen sat back in a chair. She was never the first to break. It’s not like I was going to tell him either. I was happy that someone was able to get revenge for what that dirty, no good…
“Imogen broke Sorrengail’s arm.” Garrick said for the both of us. Xaden stared at the both of us. I am pretty sure the only reason I am in this conversation was because I would have done worse were I the one on the mat.
Imogen was flipping a blade in her hand. Xaden lost his temper, and shadows streaked out from under the bed snatching the dagger midair and bringing it to him. “Why in the world would you do that Imogen?” He practically screamed.
“Xaden,” I say. A reminder to control himself.
“She deserved it. She deserves everything she gets in this death factory of a college we were sent to.”
“The Tyrrish do not punish children for the crimes of their parents, that is the Navarrian way.” Garrick stepped in while Xaden calmed himself down. Garrick was right. She should not be punished for something she has no clue her mother did. General Sorrengail didn’t capture my father, but I hate her for her part in the capture of others.
“Get back to class. Imogen, we will finish this later.” With that, we walked out of Xaden’s room and back to the sparring gym.
– –
Xaden had given me the time and place. It was risky to be out after curfew, but even more dangerous because we were gathering. If more than three marked ones are together, it is considered a capital offense. I walk to the meeting place with two other Rebellion Kids. Once everyone made it out safely, the meeting began.
“We’ve already lost Sutherland and Luperco,” Garrick states.
“Like it or not, we’re going to have to stick together if you want to survive
until graduation,” Imogen says.
“And if they find out we’re meeting?” a first-year girl with an olive
complexion asks, her eyes darting around the circle. She was one of the few kids I didn’t know, and I knew almost everyone.
“Someone is there that shouldn’t be.” Freya agreed to mostly stay out of my head until Threshing. She only barged in when it was important.
“Do you know who?” I asked.
“No, but they are not Tyrrish. Maybe a spy.” Just what we needed.
“We’ve done this for two years and they’ve never found out,” Xaden responds, folding his arms and leaning back against the tree. “They’re not going to unless one of you tells. And if you tell, I’ll know.” The threat is obvious in his tone. “Like Garrick said, we’ve already lost two first years to their own negligence. There are only forty-one of us in the Riders Quadrant, and we don’t want to lose any of you, but we will if you don’t help yourselves. The odds are always stacked against us, and trust me, every other Navarrian in the quadrant will look for reasons to call you a traitor or force you to fail.”
“How many of you are getting your asses handed to you in hand-to-hand?” Xaden asks.
Four hands shoot into the air. Next to me, Liam Mairi, the spiky-blond haired first-year standing with his arms crossed, a head taller than most of us. He’s in Second Squad, Tail Section of our wing and already the top cadet in our year. He practically ran across the parapet and destroyed every opponent on assessment day. I was proud of him. I am the closest with him and Xaden. My brother stands on the outside of the group, clearly bored.
Garrick sighs, “I’ll teach them.” He was one of Xaden’s closest friends.
Xaden shakes his head. “You’re our best fighter—”
“You’re our best fighter,” a second-year near Xaden, Bodhi, counters with a quick grin. They are cousins, but all of us Tyrrs consider each other family.
“Dirtiest fighter, maybe,” Imogen snarks. Most everyone laughs, and even the first-years crack a smile. She was right.
“Ruthless is more like it,” Garrick adds.
There’s a general consensus of nods, including one from Liam.
“Garrick is our best fighter, but Imogen is right up there with him, and she’s a lot more patient,” Xaden notes. “So the four of you split yourselves up between the two of them for training. A group of three won’t draw any unwanted attention. What else is giving you trouble?”
“I can’t do this,” a gangly first-year says, rolling his shoulders inward and lifting his slim fingers to his face.
“What do you mean?” Xaden asks, his voice taking on a hard edge.
“I can’t do this!” The smaller one shakes his head. “The death. The fighting.
Any of it!” The pitch of his voice rises with every statement. “A guy had his neck snapped right in front of me on assessment day! I want to go home! Can you help me with that?”
Every one of us turns to look at Xaden.
“No.” Xaden shrugs. “You’re not going to make it. Best accept it now and not take up more of my time.”
Some gasp, but I just roll my eyes. I spent three years training with him. That was the exact reaction I expected.
“That was a little harsh, cousin,” Bodhi comments, lifting his eyebrows.
“What do you want me to say, Bodhi?” Xaden cocks his head to the side, his voice calm and even. “I can’t save everyone, especially not someone who isn’t willing to work to save themselves.”
“Wow, Xaden.” Garrick rubs the bridge of his nose. “Way to give a pep talk.”
“If they need a pep talk, then we both know they’re not flying out of the quadrant on graduation day. Let’s get real. I can hold their hands and make them a bunch of empty promises about everyone making it through if that helps them sleep, but in my experience, the truth is far more valuable.” He turns his head, and looks panicked first-year. “In war, people die. It’s not glorious like the bards sing about, either. It’s snapped necks and two-hundred-foot falls. There’s nothing romantic about scorched earth or the scent of sulfur. This”—he gestures back toward the citadel—“isn’t some fable where everyone makes it out alive. It's a hard, cold, uncaring reality. Not everyone here is going to make it home…to whatever’s left of our homes. And make no mistake, we are at war every time we step foot in the quadrant.” He leans forward slightly. “So if you won’t get yourself together and fight to live, then no. You’re not going to make it.”
“Now, someone give me a problem I can actually solve,” Xaden orders.
“Battle Brief,” I say softly. “It’s not that I can’t keep up, but the information…” I shrugged.
“That’s a tough one,” Imogen responds, turning to look at Xaden.
“You learn what they teach you,” Xaden says to the first-year, his voice taking a hard edge. “Keep what you know but recite whatever they tell you to.”
“Anyone else?” Xaden asks. “You’d better ask now. We don’t have all night.”
“When do we get to kill Violet Sorrengail?” a guy toward the back asks.
“Ya!” a few of us shout.
Yeah, Xaden,” Imogen says sweetly, lifting her pale green eyes to him. “When do we get to finally have our revenge?”
He turns and he narrows his eyes at Imogen. “I told you already, the youngest Sorrengail is mine, and I’ll handle her when the time is right.”
“Didn’t you already learn that lesson, Imogen?” Bodhi asks “What I hear, Aetos has you scrubbing dinner dishes for the next month for using your powers on the mat.”
Imogen’s head snaps in his direction. “Her mother is responsible for the execution of my mom and sister. I should have done more than just snap her shoulder.”
“Her mom is responsible for the capture of nearly all our parents,” Garrick counters, folding his arms over his wide chest. “Not her daughter. Punishing children for the sins of their parents is the Navarrian way, not the Tyrrish.”
“So we get conscripted because of what our parents did years ago and shoved into this death sentence of a college—” Imogen starts.
“In case you didn’t notice, she’s in the same death sentence of a college,”Garrick retorts. “Seems like she’s already suffering the same fate.”
“Don’t forget her brother was Brennan Sorrengail,” Xaden adds. “She has just as much reason to hate us as we do her.” He pointedly looks at Imogen and the first-year who raised the question. “And I’m not going to tell you again. She’s mine to handle. Anyone feel like arguing?”
Brennan is safe in Aretia while our parents are dead, it is hardly fair.
“Good. Then get back to bed and go in threes.” He motions with his head, and they slowly disperse, walking away in groups of threes just like he ordered. Xaden and I are the last to leave. I start to follow him, but he walks to the other side of the tree cloaking us in shadows. “Stay quiet,” he whispers.
After a few minutes a figure climbed down from the tree our meeting was held under. Violet Sorrengail. Xaden stepped out of the shadows, and I followed. The spy Freya warned me about was Violet Sorrengail. We are all dead. Xaden’s deal won’t hold up for this. “What are you doing out after curfew?” Xaden’s voice was cold and menacing.
“I could ask you the same,” she responded. “Is this how you plan to handle me?”
“Eavesdropping were we? Now I just might have to kill you.”
I listened for her response, “I wasn’t going to tell anyone about your little club.” I was shocked. Her mother would love to hear about our ‘little club’.
“Why? It is illegal for the children—” Xaden starts.
“The children of separatists to assemble in groups larger than three, I know. I have lived at Basgiath longer than you.” She shoots back.
“So you won’t run off to mommy, or your precious Dain? Your mother would be pleased to have this information.”
“I don’t see why you should be punished, you were helping them.” For the first time I see Brennan’s little sister, not the General’s daughter. “I won’t tell, I promise.”
“I will know if you do. Now go to bed before I report you for breaking curfew. Cadet Byrne with accompany you to make sure you don’t take any detours.” Violet looks at me. This was the first time we have ever been alone, just the two of us. I don’t trust her, and she doesn’t trust me.
We walked back towards Basgiath after Xaden left. Violet was the first to speak, “I have seen you around Basgiath some. Your mother is close with the General, right?”
“Ya. Major Byrne is close with her.” I wasn’t sure what she wanted.
“Your relic, it’s different from the others. Why?” She was curious about my history. She seemed like her brother, able to know the difference between right and wrong. Able to see when to disobey orders. “Or is it too personal?”
I look down at my wrist. My silver relic winding up my arm. “It really is common knowledge between Leadership. My father took my brother, Arran, and I with him when he left for Tyrrendor. My relic is a result of Major Byrne staying loyal to Navarre.” I shared what I was comfortable with. “I was fostered with Xaden and Liam for three years before my mother decided to take us back. It was the first time I had seen him in years. We are alike in a way, my mother has despised me most of my life. If I died, she wouldn’t care at all.”
“I am sorry. I know how hard that can be.” She actually felt bad for me. That was a first.
“It is not a big deal, Xaden trained me for the riders quadrant. I am ready for the Gauntlet. I think I can do it.” I have to do it.
We got back to the dorms, and for the first time I realize that my bed was near Violet’s. I use my power on her to know whether or not I can trust her. I am not sure yet, but I have a challenge tomorrow, and I will win.
– –