Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

"Aaric? Is it working?" Ridoc asks me as he watches Dyre work applying ointment to my hands.

By the time we got back to Ridoc’s room from the archives, every blister covering my hand had popped causing waves of throbbing pain up my arms with every beat of my pulse. I can still feel the burn of electric energy from reaching through the wards to retrieve the journals that were hidden in my father’s vault. Thankfully, Bodhi and Violet were right. The pain is already ebbing thanks to Dyre’s quick action.

He finishes carefully applying multiple treatments before wrapping them firmly. "They already appear to have started healing. Until then that last ointment should take the edge off. How do they feel?" he inquires.

"Much better.” I look back up at the olive skinned healer. “Thank you, Dyre."

"Anything for Violet." Dyre leans back against Ridoc's armoire. The second-year rooms are definitely larger than the first-year room that I just moved into after threshing. The bed is roughly double the size of mine, and the default weapons rack is substantially bigger in anticipation of a larger collection.

I have to admit, I’m surprised by how clean Ridoc’s room is. With his crude and often childish sense of humor, I expected a proportionally chaotic space. The room is almost entirely practical. The only sign of any personality is a carved, wooden figurine on his nightstand that I assume is in the likeness of his dragon.

I smile at the healer and nod in agreement. He's not the only one that would do anything for Violet. Hell, everyone in this room would kill for her, and she's more than earned it.

All throughout our childhood, she was the only one who ever treated me as more than as prince, but as another human being. She listened to my complaints about the cruelty of my brothers and the indifference of my father. She laughed with me after I fell into the water when we’d sneak off to the river to swim, instead of pampering me like Dain. She cried with me when Alic died after both our parents tried to pretend that nothing happened. She has been the only true friend that I've ever had. While I might have finally given into tonight's scheme at the reminder of screwing over my father, deep down, I was really doing it for her.

Ridoc loudly takes his first full breath since we made it back to his room and looks up at Rhiannon. "Do you think you can get Cadet Life Debt out of the quadrant safely tonight, or do you think it's safer for him to stay here?"

"I think it's safer for all of us to keep a low profile," Rhiannon answers as she heads for the door. "Aaric, do you think you're ready to head back to your room?"

"You're ready," I hear Molvic’s voice over our bond, and I relay the same to Rhiannon before standing and following her to the door. I make it a step, maybe two, when I feel a full body rush from standing too quickly after healing. A wave of… something hits my body, and stops me in my tracks. I grip onto the wall as a second wave washes over me. Then the waves become a full, ceaseless onslaught that nearly takes out my knees, and I stagger into the dresser. Rhiannon and Ridoc rush to my sides and grab my arms, guiding me back to sit on the edge of the bed.

Ridoc’s eyes are wider than I’ve ever seen them. “Shit, are you okay?” He looks me over with a level of concern that I’ve never seen him use for another first-year, and my temper rises. Three months of finally getting to be my own man, not just a prince, all up in smoke. He only cares because of who I am.

This is bullshit!

“Don’t treat me differently than any other rider,” I grit out through the continuing assault on all my senses. I feel as though I’ve been overfilled, and I can hardly think through the bombardment in my head.

Ridoc leans back, his expression changing from concern to confusion before ending on comprehension. “No, man, it’s not like that.” He glances at Rhiannon, a small smile curving the corner of his mouth. “It’s because you’re one of us now.”

He looks over to Dyre. “Was there something in that ointment that could cause dizziness?”

“This isn’t dizziness,” I answer before Dyre can reply. “It’s pressure. I feel like I’m coming apart at the seams.” It hasn’t stopped, but it is starting to feel slightly more tolerable.

There’s a pause of silence before Rhiannon cracks a huge smile, and Ridoc snorts, sitting back on his heels.

“What?” My eyes bounce between them.

“Guess you really are one of us now.” Ridoc sarcastically answers as he stands, pulling me up with him. My head still tried to spin, but at least the room doesn’t.

Rhiannon’s eyes twinkle as she steps backwards towards the doorway. “Go to Carr tomorrow, and tell him you started channeling.”

“Wait, really?” I look down at my bandaged hands like they’ll start wielding of their own accord. Molvic decided to start channeling now of all times? When I’m wounded?

“Is that what you meant when you said I was ready?”

Molvic remains frustratingly quiet.

“Yup.” Rhiannon gestures for me to follow her into the hall. “Now let’s get you to bed. It’s the easiest way to take the edge off the initial rush.”

With one final, bewildered nod to Ridoc and Dyre, I follow Rhiannon out into the hallway before shutting the door behind me. I shake my head slightly to clear the waterlogged feeling in my ears.

"Now that Ridoc’s not with us…” Rhiannon stops as she gently grabs my arm and gives me her piercing squad leader stare. “Are you sure you're alright?"

"Yes, I'm fine," I reply as we start down the hall towards the stairwell that leads to the first-year floor and smile wide. Pride swells in my chest. I feel light despite the heaviness of the day. "Just another day in the riders quadrant."

"Ha! Don't I know it?" She stops as she approaches her door and twists her hand with lesser magic to undo her lock.

Eager to fall into my bed, I breathe deep with contentment as I continue past her towards the stairwell at the end of the hallway. The loss of the evening’s adrenaline is making me lightheaded, and I have to consciously pick up my feet to avoid stumbling again. Heavy exhaustion replaces the pain in my sagging arms, regardless of the power still surging through me. I’m pretty sure if I were to lean against a wall, I would be able to fall asleep before Rhiannon’s door could shut behind her.

"Hey, Aaric?" Rhiannon calls softly when I’m two rooms away.

"Yes?"

"Thank you," she smiles.

I nod and return the sentiment with the first genuine smile that I've felt across my face since crossing the parapet. This is why I came here. I'm finally starting to achieve my purpose. I need to protect the kingdom, and now I see a future in which a real peace is possible. And making that future happen despite my father’s best efforts? Even better.

Chapter Text

The first ray of sunlight peeks through the window across my eyelids. My eyes snap open, and the events of Friday slam in my mind. My pulse immediately starts to race like it did all day yesterday, like I’m still running, still bleeding. My hands–

I jolt upright and bring them up to my face. No signs of the injury remain at all. Even after being treated by the best menders in the land throughout my childhood, I still find it incredible how effective a good healer can be without magic. Neither the slight tenderness to the touch nor the faintly pink skin tone are there.

Two days of pent up tension finally melt away. The worry that we would be caught after breaking into the royal vault had us all on constant alert for any indication that someone was onto us. Now we just have to pretend like nothing happened until it's time to put the damned journals back, and we’ll go through that whole ordeal all over again.

I startle as my stomach grumbles. I could hardly eat yesterday through the constant anxiety, convinced that someone would see me flinch any time I touched anything or see the slight pink hue that extended past my wrists and somehow realize what it meant. Now that it’s all over, I could eat a dragon egg sized omelet. I quickly dress in my leathers and head towards breakfast.

Walking down the hall, I look at my hands for a whole new reason. With the energy that has remained simmering in my chest since Molvic started channeling Friday, I’ll soon learn to use them to wield powers that I never dared to imagine until roughly a year ago after I made up my mind to join the Riders Quadrant.

As I reach the stairs at the end of the hall, all the mage lights suddenly flicker into momentary darkness causing the hairs on the back of my neck to stand at attention. I pause mid stride just in time. When I stop, a second-year barrels down the stairs straight through where I would have been standing. Thank the gods for my exceptional peripheral vision. He would have knocked me right down the stairs. What a stupid way to die after surviving three months of this place.

The Sunday morning hallways in Basgiath are their typical mostly-empty state. With no classes on the weekends, most cadets choose to sleep in, routinely in someone else's room. Thankful for everyone else's preoccupation, I allow myself to relax to the sound of my echoing steps, and I smile as the realization of what we've accomplished finally hits me.

With the journals, the rebellion will be able to ward another section of the continent, wherever their outpost is. The ever-attacking venin will be blocked from more civilians – hopefully Nevarrian, but I'll take Poromish too. Anything is better than being like my father or his father before him, covering up the advance of those wielding from the earth by sacrificing our neighbors. I won't let the continent continue to suffer while sitting safe in the palace in Calldyr. Satisfaction with this first victory fills me as I enter the mess hall.

The lack of crowd allows me to walk straight up to the serving line where I fill my plate, so I can be at full strength for the practice challenge session that Rhiannon has scheduled for today. Continuing towards the tables, I see Ridoc and Sawyer sitting at our usual Second Squad spot and head their way.

"I'm telling you something is wrong." Sawyer grinds his teeth as he leans across the table. His metal cup crumples under his grip. "She's always up before us. We're down here before her two days in a row?"

"And I'm telling you, everything is fine. Riorson was still on leave all day yesterday. I'm sure Violet is walking with him to the flight field as we speak," Ridoc casually replies, leaning back as he spears another breakfast potato and shovels it into his mouth.

"No, she isn't," I interject as I sit down next to Sawyer. "Riorson planned to leave Friday night as soon as we got safely out."

Ridoc and Sawyer freeze and stare at me. A slight frost makes its way up the handle of Ridoc's fork as he holds it suspended mid-bite. I feel my stomach start to plummet.

"Wait." My breathing starts to become shallow. "You haven't seen her since Friday?"

They both continue to stare, and we all jump as the doors to the hall open with a bang. A female first lieutenant often found flanking Major Varrish walks in and amplifies her voice.

"Vice Commandant Varrish has called an immediate formation. All cadets are to report to the courtyard immediately!"

The three of us look back to one another and slowly get to our feet. Staying close to one another, we head out into the courtyard. The autumn morning chill only serves to increase the shiver of apprehension sliding down my spine. The crispness that I normally enjoy seems to steal my breath.

We make our way towards the rightmost column of the formation where most of the rest of Second Squad waits. Wordlessly, we split up to take our usual places amongst the squad as the last of the cadets who just woke up trickle in from the entrance.

The lieutenant stands alone on the dais, inexplicably more intimidating than the entire leadership team flanked by their dragons. She motions with her hands again to amplify her voice and begins addressing the formation.

“On Friday night, a priceless artifact was stolen from within the Basgiath.” A chorus of murmurs rises amongst the riders. A restless energy takes hold of the assembly as heads turn to one another. Some cadets even step out of position to whisper to a friend. I can’t believe that they are actually addressing this publicly. The quadrant thrives on rumors, and with thievery being a capital offence, this will fly through the entire war college.

“Reliable sources have informed us that the perpetrator has been magically marked on his or her hands. Therefore, each cadet will remain here in formation until everyone has been appropriately examined.” She pauses while she surveys the congregation. “Anyone breaking formation will be presumed guilty and punished swiftly in accordance with the codex.”

A cold knot of dread forms in my stomach. The blisters have healed, but is there another mark that I didn’t notice? Damn it all, I can’t risk looking without raising suspicion. As soon as the thought comes to me, the urge to inspect my hands myself becomes nearly overwhelming, and I’m forced to dissipate the energy by fidgeting with the dagger on my thigh.

When the lieutenant steps down from the dais and heads towards First Wing, I fight to preoccupy myself by analyzing the rest of the situation. No other leadership is at the dais, including Varrish. Then a quick inventory of those involved in Friday night's events makes my hands curl. Bodhi stands at the front of the section with his executive officer. Rhiannon and Sawyer stand at the front of our squad. I already saw Imogen and Quinn as we took up our spots.

Violet is the only one who isn’t here.

Fuck.

Where is she? Was she caught? If so, was she taken yesterday, or was it Friday night right after we split up? Is Riorson with her, or did he get away with Warwick’s journal as planned? Question after question overwhelms my thoughts, and the panic that decayed to ember this morning flares again inside my chest. Sweat beads on my forehead in spite of the cool morning breeze.

“I am speaking with Tairn. Get your emotions under control before you are caught!”

At Molvic’s command, I fight to keep my breathing steady as Varrish's aide walks up and down the rows of cadets inspecting everyone's hands, but an even more terrifying thought intrudes. I have no idea what the lieutenants signet is. She can’t be an inntinnsic – that’s a death sentence. She could have any of a number of mind work signets that could be just as dangerous in this situation.

When she reaches Flame Section, Fourth Wing, she stops to look at everyone's face before continuing. She takes her time with the whole of Second Squad, stopping and inspecting both sides of each hand for every cadet.

I stand at attention, refusing to show even a flicker of the fear coursing through me. Then she reaches me, and she pauses taking in my sandy brown hair and green eyes. I avoid making eye contact in case she needs that for her unknown signet. She pierces me with a glare as though about to ask a question, but I wordlessly stick out my hands before she can make up her mind. I send up a silent thankful prayer to Amari for the steadiness of my hands, even if I'm all but steady inside. She gives me one last look before moving on to Sloane.

“Tairn lost contact with his rider on Friday night, just after Sgaeyl left. He’s been hunting Solas within the vale ever since,” Molvic relays the information in an urgent tone that I haven’t previously heard from him.

As soon as she finishes with the last few inspections and dismisses the formation, I turn around and lock eyes with Ridoc.

“They have Violet. We have to do something,” I hiss.

“Figured that out,” Ridoc whispers. “We find where she is, and we break her out tonight. Varrish has already tried to kill Vi once, so we don’t have much time.” He looks past my shoulder as two more people walk up.

Rhiannon steps up to my side, followed by Sawyer. “We can’t wing this, Ridoc. This isn’t class. This is real. We need to find out what we’re up against, or we'll be no use to Vi.”

Ridoc runs his hand through his hair in frustration, but concedes. “Fine, you’re the boss.”

“No, you’re not.” Bodhi steps up behind us. “I’m not leaving Violet’s and by extension Xaden’s lives in the hands of first- and second-years who haven’t even seen combat. If you’re thinking of doing clandestine shit, then I’m in charge.”

Chapter Text

Basically all of Second Squad sits together in the mess hall early Wednesday morning putting the final touches on the best plan we have to rescue Violet. Bodhi thinks we are less likely to draw attention talking here over breakfast than we are gathered anywhere else. Three days of reconnaissance have gotten us as far as we’re going to get, and if we wait any longer, it might be too late.

Rhiannon looks across the table at Quinn. “Were you able to astral project into Violet’s room yesterday?”

“Yeah, the wards didn’t stop me,” Quinn stabs at a breakfast potato, “but there were no Tyrrish weapons anywhere. That dagger you thought unlocked the door during RSC was probably with her Friday night.”

Rhiannon sighs before taking a sip of her coffee. “Yeah, I figured as much, but this would all be a hell of a lot simpler if I could summon a magic dagger out of her room to solve at least one of our problems.”

The group goes depressingly silent for a heartbeat, like our last hope is lost before we’ve even truly started.

Sawyer rallies first. “Then we’re back to me and Ridoc. I’ll melt the door hinges like the first door during our escape. It will eat into our time, but we know it will work. Assuming we don’t conveniently find the keys on a hook outside the interrogation room door.”

“Alright, there are no other variables we can research ahead of time. Last chance for anyone to bail out.” Bodhi looks around the group, stopping when he gets to me. “It really would be safer for you to pass on this one, Greycastle. You haven’t manifested a signet yet, and you don’t have a job to do.”

“I’m your best hope in hand-to-hand, and I’m not leaving Violet in that cell,” I growl back at Durran. I’m not going to sit back and let her take a punishment that she wouldn’t have to endure if I had simply refused to participate Friday night.

When everyone else remains silent, Bodhi slides a small map out from under his half-eaten plate. “Right then. We’ll leave here in groups about five minutes apart, and make our way to the foyer at the entrance of the brig. Mattias and Henrick are with me. We’ll be loudly talking about leadership meetings and head straight to the empty room next to the tunnel. The three of us won’t raise any eyebrows if someone comes in and finds us.”

“Cardulo and Hallis will stick out like a sore thumb if their group has anyone besides the two of them. The two of you will cover the north entrance. That leaves Greycastle & Gamlyn covering the south entrance.” He looks up at Ridoc beside me. “Don’t do anything stupid.”

“What?” Ridoc’s feigned indignance doesn’t reach the corner of his mouth. “I haven’t even said anything!”

Bodhi rolls his eyes. “You will though.” He looks back down at the map. “As soon as one of you sees Varrish and his aides leave for breakfast in about an hour, you’ll join the rest of us. From there, Hollis, you’ll project down to the brig, scout out the last bit of information that we need. As long as there aren’t any surprises, Quinn and I will leave to create distractions while the five of you go get Violet. Once we get her out, our dragons will signal to Tairn, and he’ll meet us in the nearest courtyard to take her to safety. Any questions?”

Ridoc raises his hand. “What if we have to use the restroom while we wait for Varrish? – Ow!” Ridoc leans forward to rub his shin where Rhiannon kicked him under the table.

Bodhi covers his face with both hands and rubs hard against his eyebrows, creating creases in his forehead. “Alright, Mattias, Henrick, let’s go.”

Forty-five minutes later, Ridoc and I are sitting in a shadowy alcove just beyond the south entrance of the foyer. The occasional rider walks past, but they give us no notice. The location is the perfect spot to wait and watch while not drawing attention.

Ridoc settles in against the wall with his arms crossed. “So how’s Carr’s class going?”

“Really?” I look at him with incredulity. My failures at wielding are the last thing on my mind. “That’s what you want to talk about?”

“If we recite the plan one more time, I’m going to punch something. Would you rather exchange dick jokes?”

I groan in frustration and rub the bridge of my nose. “It’s going like shit. I can’t ground at all. Picture the place you feel like home? At peace? Where the fuck is that supposed to be? Because it sure as shit isn’t here or the palace!”

The only two places that I’ve spent any significant amount of time are entirely too chaotic to lend themselves to any sort of centering. I occasionally found some semblance of peace whenever Violet and Dain were around, but every time I’ve tried to picture one of our hiding spots while sitting in Carr’s classroom this week, all I can picture is the horrible things Varrish must be doing to her.

“What? Did you think you were going to have perfect grounding on day one?” Ridoc grins. “Most riders take a couple of weeks to ground and another couple of months after that to shield or do even the simplest wielding.”

“Carr makes it sound like we're all going to imminently explode if we don’t ground during the first week of channeling,” I grumble.

“Because some of you will.”

I startle, “But you just said–”

“The two aren’t mutually exclusive. Almost no one manages to ground in the first week of channeling, and some cadets die every year from failing to do so. Stressing about it is only going to make it harder.” He shoulder bumps me with a mischievous grin. “If you need to relieve some stress, I can always lend you a hand.”

I let out a snort. “For fucks sake. You’re ridiculous.”

“What can I say – it’s in my name.” He turns to fully face me, suddenly stern. “Seriously though, you probably don’t stand a chance until after we get Violet, and we can all breathe safely again. But if you’re holding onto hope of trying to think of a spot where you’ve always felt at peace, you’ll be waiting a long time. People capable of that don’t join the Riders Quadrant. Instead, try to picture the location of a moment in time when you felt tranquility or harmony. The location doesn’t have to be perfect. It’s the feeling that’s important.”

That, more than anything I’ve tried so far, sounds attainable. “Thanks, Ridoc. I’ll try th–”

A female voice coming from the foyer interrupts us. “We have to try something else. This isn’t working, and she could be back from Calldyr at any time.”

“Perhaps you are correct,” Varrish responds as the trio comes into view. “Alright, if the girl doesn’t break by tomorrow morning, we’ll move on to the next step.” His voice takes on an indecently excited tone that simultaneously makes my blood and my skin crawl. “I think we’re close though. She’s slipping. Her mind is starting to go. We just need to get the information before she’s too far gone.”

An anger like I’ve never felt before courses through my body. Energy crackles through me from head to toe as the anger overtakes all common sense. My vision goes black, and I picture the carnage that I wish to inflict on the pieces of human filth in front of me. The lieutenant on the floor with her eyes open and throat cut wide, no longer able to give advice on how best to hurt Violet. The vice commandant in a chair with blood oozing from the mouth that spits so much poison and spilling from the spot where his non-existent heart should be.

A firm grip on my shoulder stops me mid-stride and pushes me back into the alcove wall, a heartbeat before I see Ridoc place his hand over my mouth. Once the trio have safely turned the corner and are out of earshot, he finally releases me. I shove him away, ready to break something, even Ridoc’s face, with the need to take out this rage. He grabs my arms, and I see the same anger and determination in his eyes.

“We have to save her first. We’ll kill them later.” The promise in his eyes is all that makes me remember what it is we’re supposed to be doing.

“Anger is only a useful tool if you control it. You are letting it control you,” Molvic chastises.

“Says the dragon,” I mutter back.

Still trembling with fury, I follow Ridoc as we get Imogen and Quinn, and the four of us pile into a room that already has the other three sitting at a table. Bodhi looks up as we enter, and his face pales slightly as he surveys me and Ridoc.

“What happened?” he demands as he stands to cross the room.

I work my jaw as I try to answer, but adrenaline and rage seem to have overridden my voice as well as my brain. I attempt to swallow down the emotions, but still can’t dislodge the pain my throat.

“Nothing,” Ridoc bites out gruffly, “just Varrish and his minions being themselves as they walked towards the great hall. He…” Ridoc coughs tightly. “He said Violet’s mind is starting to slip.”

The room goes silent, and the remaining color drains from Bodhi’s face. Rhiannon sways for a split second before Sawyer steadies her. Imogen tightens beside me, ready to punch something.

“We don’t have any time to waste then.” Quinn is the first to break the silence as she steps forward to sit at the table and closes her eyes. We all watch her for a few heartbeats before the unmistakable double of Varrish’s female aide pops into existence in the room, causing us all to recoil. Even expecting it and knowing it’s actually Quinn, doesn’t stop my fist from clenching.

“Don’t speak to anyone if you can at all help it,” Bodhi reminds her. “Determine what’s between here and the cells. Find which cell Violet’s in. See if you can find the keys. Scout how many guards we have to deal with.”

The projection-Quinn nods, and we open the door for her. She could float right through it, but one less opportunity to raise eyebrows is always a good thing. We each take a seat around the table, and wait with barely suppressed nervous energy as we fall into our own thoughts.

What did Varrish mean that her mind is slipping? Her kindness is what makes her my best friend, but her intelligence is what makes her her. Her wit and insight are what sets her apart from other riders. If he’s destroyed her brilliance while he’s torn down her body, could the kindness even survive?

The thought of her as a shell of herself, makes bile rise, but I swallow it down. If I lose it in front of Durran, he’ll order me to stay behind. That would definitely put a damper on the plan – we need him to create a distraction, to buy us time, not lay in this room knocked out.

“Get it under control. I’m starting to second guess my decision to start channeling so soon.”

Thankfully, before I can respond, Quinn stirs at the table and opens her eyes, blinking rapidly and shaking her head. Once she’s gathered herself, she looks around at us to spot Bodhi. “Good news first. The layout is pretty simple. There’s a three story spiral staircase that leads straight down to a corridor that’s about two people wide and about four hundred feet long. The place hasn’t been used in centuries from the looks of it. Roots are growing in through the walls and up through the ground so you’ll have to watch your step.

“At the end there’s an unlocked door to an open room with a guard table on the opposite side. There’s only one infantry guard, but I couldn’t tell if he has the keys or if Varrish took them with him. From there it splits in three directions to other corridors each with a different set of cells as the end. Only the one straight ahead appears to be in use. Violet’s in the last cell on the left.”

“What’s the bad news?” Bodhi asks when she doesn’t continue.

Quinn’s eyes flicker to me and Ridoc before looking down at her hands resting on the table. “Violet’s in rough shape.”

“Be more specific,” Bodhi commands.

The knot in Quinn’s throat bobs as she swallows. “She’s chained to a bed, and the sheets appear to be covered in fresh blood. At least one of her legs is broken based on the angle it was bent. I…” She takes a few deep breaths before continuing, “I thought she was dead for a second, but I could see her lips moving, and she opened her eyes for a moment.”

The image makes my stomach churn.

Before I can process my thoughts, Rhiannon speaks up in a hopeful tone. “Vi is always reciting some book whenever she needs to calm her nerves. She’s probably just using it as a coping mechanism.”

“I don’t think so.” Quinn continues to stare at her fidgeting hands. “I couldn’t stick around long enough to find out without raising suspicion since the guard was watching me. She looked like she was talking to someone except there was no one there.”

After a moment of tense silence, Bodhi clears his throat. “Okay, we adapt. You five will have to plan on carrying her out. Quinn, the distractions are all on you now. I’ll go find Dyre, and get a med kit.” He looks around the room, and the determination in his eyes makes him look more like his cousin than I’ve ever noticed before. “Ready?”

Bodhi and Quinn exit first, talking animatedly as they head for the south entrance. Once they give us the all clear, the rest of us quickly take the next door down the hall that leads to the brig.

We make our way quietly down the spiral staircase. Anger pulses through my veins in time with my steps as I bring up the rear of the group. None of us speak as we sprint down the hall on our toes, watching our step around the roots breaking through the tiles. Stopping to gather our breath at the end of the first corridor, each of us crouches below the height of the window so the guard can’t see us through the glass. Rhiannon motions with one hand for us to stay down, and she slowly rises to peek through the window. She looks in for one beat, maybe two, before slowly crouching back down.

Rhiannon swiftly signs to the four of us, “Sawyer goes in first, followed by Ridoc. Aaric, Imogen and I will come in last. Sawyer, the chair is metal. Pull it forward into the table to trap him. Ridoc, there’s a drink in front of him, distract him with ice in whatever way you think is best. Aaric and I will physically restrain him until we can knock him out, then Imogen will mind wipe. Got it?”

We all nod, except for Sawyer who stares at Rhiannon uncomprehendingly. Apparently he doesn’t know sign. Rhiannon realizes it at the same time that I do, and mimes a chair while pointing to the metal on her dagger. After Sawyer nods, she points to him and makes a pulling motion. When he nods again, she holds up three fingers and starts counting down.

On her signal, we burst through the door. To Sawyer’s credit, he understood the assignment, since the sitting guard rapidly slides into the table hard enough to knock the breath from his lungs. Ridoc flares his hands, and the guard’s water turns into a puff of snow and obscurs his vision. Rhiannon and I split, each coming at the guard from a different direction around the table. She takes a baton to the back of the guard's head, just as I hit him in the temple with the hilt of my dagger. She sucks in a breath and cringes at the likely permanent brain damage we just did.

“Maybe you should have coordinated which one of you was going to knock him out,” Imogen whispers to Rhiannon as she steps forward to feel his pulse and touch his forehead.

“In my defense, I didn’t think it was going to go that smooth.” Rhiannon searches the guard, and amazingly Zhinal is on our side when she stands up with a key in her hand.

Ridoc huffs out a quiet laugh, “It can’t be that easy.”

“Hurry, we’ve still got to get her out before they get back,” I remind the group. My pulse starts to race again at the thought of the state in which we’re about to find Violet. I start down the earthier second corridor, and the rest follow. The cells start to come into clearer view as we make our way forward, speeding up as we near our target.

“Watch out!”

One of the others grabs my hand with a vice-like grip, a second before another grabs my right just as hard. I look over my shoulder to ask what’s wrong, only to see that it’s not one of the squad who grabbed my wrist. Inch thick vines have whipped out from the wall. They wrap both of my hands and arms, and are tugging them upward. I pull against them futilely, and they double in size in response. I can just see over my shoulder enough to see that the same is happening to Imogen behind me.

My pulse pounds with a terror that I’ve never experienced before, fear for my own life. More vines wrap around my feet as others wrap around my head, forcing me to face forward again and wrapping my mouth shut. I fight to keep my breathing under control, to keep my brain functioning so that I can find a way out of this. I can hear the others struggling behind me, but they seem to be making as little progress as I am. Then another sound makes my blood run cold.

“Well, if it isn’t the tight knit group.”

Like puppets in a sick carnival show, all five of us are rotated by the vines in mid-air to face the Vice Commandant who’s sickly smile makes my brain freeze. His aides stand behind him, the female lieutenant with her arms crossed and the male with his hands outstretched, controlling the vines. Varrish steps forward slowly, his face lit up with glee like a child during the first snowfall of the year.

“Quite the little party we have here.” He directs his evil smile at Rhiannon, Ridoc, and Sawyer in turn as he walks between each of them in succession. “I thought the three of you might do something foolish. I banked on you tripping the alarm from opening her cell door, but you didn’t quite make it that far.”

He pauses in front of Imogen. “I had hoped that both you and Durran would be this gullible. Taking out all of the remaining Resson group in one move, would have been a feat worthy of promotion.” He takes his time as he stalks around to her side, surveying his prey. “Let me guess. He’s off causing a distraction somewhere to buy you time. Don’t worry, we’ll find another way to end the traitors bloodline.” Varrish leans in to speak a few inches from her ear, though he continues to speak loud enough for each of us to hear. “Either way, catching the last daughter of Tracila Cardulo has to be worth something.”

“What I hadn’t counted on,” he directs his attention to me and clasps his hands behind his back, “was a first year who doesn’t even have the first hint of a shield making it down here. I set up the anger detection ward for Riorson. I knew his rage would break through his shields when he came to rescue Sorrengail, just like it did when I took her from him a few weeks ago. I hadn’t expected this much wrath from anyone besides Riorson.” He finally stops in front of me, wondrous joy lighting up his face as he studies my eyes. “So much ammunition to work with – loyalty to the general's daughter, devotion to your squad, and so many father issues.”

Chapter Text

My eyelids are heavy, and my mouth is dry as I try to pull myself awake. I open my eyes to see a room that I don’t recognize. Looking over my shoulder causes my head to spin, but not before I discern the other four chained to the wall, hanging limp with unconsciousness.

“What happened?” I whisper over the bond.

Molvic doesn’t answer. I can’t feel him at all.

“Molvic?” Only silence.

What the fuck is happening? The fog in my head dampens my ability to think clearly, and I look around the room for any indication of what got us here. The room is dark and damp. The musty cave-like odor has an undertone of copper that churns my stomach when I register the scent of blood. As soon as I recognize the smell, I realize that the dry tile floor isn’t naturally tinted. It is brownish-red in a pattern that meets near the drain a few feet in front of me.

In the opposite corner from where we are chained, a thin bed tells the history of this room. Its linen covers have dark brown stains that’s horror is only matched by the chains and manacles that lay menacingly on top of the pillow. We must also be in one of the brig’s cells.

As I continue to take in the room, I pull at the bindings that hold me to the chair and hiss at the sharp pain that answers. I look down at my hands, expecting to see that the manacles are spiked, but find my wrists covered in a faint purple bruise patterned not unlike the rebellion relics that extend up the arms of the marked ones.

Everything comes back in a gale that finally breaks through the fog. The rescue mission, the vines, Varrish, the potion forced down our throats. Before I can start to form a plan, rustling behind me interrupts my thoughts.

“Fuck me,” Imogen mumbles, “I thought I’d never have to step foot in this hell hole again.”

“Wait, what?” Indignation flares alongside the rising fear. “We wasted three days scouting when you had already seen the brig?” We could have rescued Violet days ago?

“This isn’t the brig,” Sawyer answers. “We’re in the interrogation classroom.”

Disbelief steals my thoughts for a heartbeat. “This is a classroom?!”

“What? You thought first-years had all the fun?” Ridoc quips.

My jaw drops at the sickening thought of having to torture someone. “Fun? What the fuck? Who the fuck are you torturing?” A fresh wave of molten anger takes over at the thought that riders are practicing torture on our civilians. Does my father know this is happening? Even he can’t possibly condone this.

“No, Aaric, we’re on the receiving end,” Rhiannon groggily answers. Well, that doesn’t make me feel any better. “Anyone still have your signet?”

When no one answers her perplexing question, I ask the obvious follow-up. “What do you mean ‘still have your signets’?”

“The serum Varrish made us drink to knock us out also smothers our bonds, which in turn blocks our signets,” Rhiannon sighs. “And if none of us can wield, I don’t think we’re getting out of here.”

I pull against the manacles again despite the pain. “No! We have to do something.” Panic has laced my voice in a way that I’ve never heard before. We can’t give up. We can’t just sit here. We have to help Violet before it’s too late. And by Varrish’s last comment, he knows who I am. There’s no way that he’ll use that information in any way that doesn’t lead to more pain. I attempt to rock my chair, but it doesn’t budge, even as I try again.

“Aaric, stop!” Rhiannon commands. I halt my rocking though I continue to choke on my fear. “Calm down and conserve your energy until we come up with a plan. That’s an order!”

Fine…

The others talk quietly behind me as I close my eyes and attempt to get my emotions under control. I try to follow Violet’s example and start to recite one of the books that I would read outside in the snow at our family home in Luceras. Before I can get more than a couple of sentences, my thoughts return to Violet doing the same, stuck in a cell, and the panic starts to creep back.

What does seem to work is imaging the feel of the snow in my hair and my brother Alic brushing it off. In my mind, I smell the smoke from the fireplace and the faint scent of pine. I listen to the cardinals sing and the clear whistle of the wind through the trees. And I feel the absolute stillness that accompanies the lack of never-ending expectation.

At the rattle of the door handle, the others fall silent, and I open my eyes to see the face of the Vice Commandant.

“Look at who’s finally woken up from their naps.” Varrish santers into the room. The two lieutenants who shadow him enter and close the door. “I believe that you all met Lieutenant Nora and Lieutenant Ramsey yesterday?”

Yesterday? We’ve lost a whole day?

“Unfortunately for us, there’s no time for pleasantries at the moment. Classes let out in thirty minutes, and I’ve finally remembered the perfect plan to break your little friend. I won’t even have to wait until Saturday to get what I need once we’ve captured Riorson.” Chains rattle behind me as one of the others forgets Rhiannon’s order and tries to break free from the wall.

“Oh, don’t worry,” Varrish continues looking past me, “I won’t kill her. I can’t use her to break Riorson if she’s dead.”

“You’ll die for hurting her,” Ridoc seethes.

Varrish chuckles, “I doubt that. But I’ll make you all a one-time offer to make her pain stop right now. You can save what remains of her mind by telling me what I want to know. Otherwise, the next time that door opens, she’ll be gone, and we’ll have to turn to less savory methods.” He looks at each of us with a question in turn. “What are the marked ones up to? Why did you steal Lyra’s journal? Where are you trying to ward? Who are you smuggling weapons to?” His eyes come to rest on me. “What else does your father have in that vault?”

The room collectively freezes. Even Varrish’s aides startle at the last question. The silence is deafening as Varrish waits for someone to break.

When no one answers, he feigns a sympathetic tisk as he exits back through the door. “Guess we’ll have to rely on another best friend to break what remains of her spirit.” Before shutting the door behind them, he stalls for one last look with a smile that makes my heart stutter. “I’m sure Aetos would rather it have been one of you.”

The door closes and locks with a resounding click.

“Fuck!” Imogen yells, pain pitching her voice and making it unrecognizable. I look back to see her slumped on the chains, her shoulders at an angle that makes me ache. My mouth falls open as her body wracks with muted sobs.

“Imogen…” Rhiannon whispers besider her.

“He’s going to die.” Imogen chokes out. “They’re all going to die.”

At Imogen’s sobering words, we all fall silent. The only sounds are the occasional sniffly nose or rattle of chains. I look around to see Rhiannon watching Imogen like her heart is breaking too. Sawyer stands unmoving with his eyes closed, head slumped forward. Ridoc stares at the door with unfocused, empty eyes.

I try to count the seconds to keep track of time, but give up when I realize there’s no point. There’s no getting out of here in time to save her. The lack of hope leaves me gasping for breath like my first flight, and the pain in my chest might as well be from the stab of a daggertail. The only person who has ever cared about me simply for being me is going to die, and I’ll be all alone again.

No one here is stupid enough to execute a prince, so I won’t die. My humanity will. Maybe this is the true nature of royalty. With no real friends, I’ll be doomed to a life of solidarity and loneliness. How can that possibly accompany the kindness and courage that the kingdom needs?

It can’t. And that’s exactly how we’ve arrived where we are.

Noise in the hallway breaks me out of my reverie, and I reluctantly raise my face, not wanting to see the gloating twinkle I know will be in the Major’s eyes. The lock clicks again a second before the door is slammed open, revealing the outline of Lieutenant Tavis. His eyes scan the room, and without a word, he flies forward and embraces Imogen to his chest. Imogen’s sobs return, and her finger tips dig into arms. Their muffled voices are impossible to decipher as they tune out the rest of the world.

“Garrick!” Ridoc finally interrupts. “What the fuck is going on?”

Garrick pulls back as though finally noticing the rest of us. He blinks and clears his throat, then steps over to Rhiannon with a set of keys. “Xaden’s got Violet. She’s okay.” He fills us in on the wyvern, Dain, and Varrish as we’re each released from our shackles and handed an antidote. “We’re getting out of here.”

I grab his arm as soon as the metal parts from my wrist. “Where are we going?”

He smirks as he looks at me. How in all that is holy is there humor in any of this?

“Aretia.”

Chapter Text

Well, this is fucking awkward.

I knew coming to Aretia would mean closer proximity to fliers, but this isn’t exactly what I had in mind. Since the attempt to raise the Aretian wards failed, the only way to protect ourselves from the venin advance is through weapons, and Poromiel’s price for the luminary is probably going to blow up in all of our faces.

The winding line of riders and fliers climbing the cliffside pass on the way to Aretia is increasingly breaking out with fights under the early afternoon sun. The tension throughout the formation is nearly as thick as the fog that surrounds us.

Thank the gods that none of these fliers know who I am. I might be undefeated on the mat, but on these unholy cliffs, I don't think I could take anyone, let alone the two behind me. The stone path beneath us, roughly half a body length in width, is covered in loose dirt and small pebbles that would be hard enough to fight on even if there was plenty of space. We're high enough now that any tumble would be our last. And I could see any one of them deciding that their life would be worth the life of one of the princes of Navarre.

While they might hate me if they knew who I was, I don't hate them. All they have ever done is fight to survive. Fight to get the weapons that they need to protect their civilians from the horde of venin slowly taking over their land. Fight to save their families. I don't blame them for attacking our outposts to get the only weapons that can save their people.

I would do the same in their shoes. I would fight tooth and nail to protect my kingdom.

Hell. I am.

A flash of wings through the fog brings me back to the present and my lackluster company. After three hours, I'm tired of trying to reach some semblance of common ground with the flier behind me, and I need a distraction from the fatigue and shortness of breath that are starting to get worse.

Time to spend some quality time with a squad mate instead. "Did you grow up in Aretia, Imogen?"

Just ahead of me on the trail, Imogen startles and her pink hair whips behind her as she turns to face me. I must not be the only one lost in thought.

"Yes," her eyes soften a little, and she continues the climb. "My family home wasn't far from Riorson house. Katrina and I spent a lot of time there with Xaden and Garrick growing up. Bodhi, Liam, and Sloane, too, when their parents were stationed nearby."

"No wonder you're so tough, growing up with Xaden and Garrick."

"They weren't like that at the time. Katrina was always the hard ass. Well, her and my mom. She was obsessed with proving herself to Mom. The rest of us were just... kids. For a while at least…"

She trails off in thought as we continue up the climb putting more and more distance between us and the fliers we’re left behind.

Her description of Garrick, Xaden and herself as carefree kids is such a stark contrast to the reality of each of them now. I can’t comprehend it – especially with Xaden. The thought of the asshole that murdered my brother as innocent is beyond me. "Not going to lie, I can't wrap my head around the thought of Xaden as a kid."

Imogen scoffs lightly. "As much as anyone can be a kid growing up the son of a duke. That kind of pressure from birth never lets you really be free. He didn't start growing broody until around when I was nine, and his mother left. By then, Katrina left for school, and it really just became the three of us."

Now it's my turn to fall silent. While there might be a difference in the order of magnitude, I understand that all too well. The pressure of the kingdom, a busy distant father, few real friends to trust. Damn it, I don't want to start empathizing with Xaden Riorson of all people.

"What about you?" Imogen pulls me out of my thoughts, her voice lowers. "You have two brothers, right?" She winces. "Had... Sorry. Forget it."

"It's fine," I sigh. "My older brother served his three years in the infantry. As you might imagine, he lives up in all the worst ways to being the first in line. My other brother, his twin..." My voice threatens to break at the sudden pain. So much for empathy towards Riorson. "Well, you know his story."

She flinches and whispers, "I still don't know how you found out."

"I asked Molvic," I grumble, ready for the topic to change.

"A request that I still second guess granting," Molvic growls.

"Yeah, well, I haven't killed him, have I?"

"For what it's worth," Imogen offers as we approach the next switch back, "Xaden couldn't keep anything down for days after threshing according to Soleil. She told me that the night before my threshing when I confessed that I was afraid of letting Xaden and Garrick down. She assumed he was stressed from his threshing, and she was trying to bring him down a notch in my eyes, so I would stop stressing myself out in comparison." She throws an atypically sympathetic look over her shoulder at me. "But I don't think that's what it was anymore."

A pang deep in my chest keeps me from responding. My brothers and I each coped differently with our father's neglect and unmeetable expectations. Halden embraced the entitlement that comes with being the heir to the crown. Alic turned into an asshole and a bully, tearing others down since he would never get the throne, the only thing our father ever truly loved. If it hadn't been for Violet's unconditional friendship, Dunne knows what I would have done for validation.

From what Molvic told me, Alic suffered the consequences of his own actions, but he was still my brother. If it had been anyone besides Alic, I wouldn't blame Riorson. Hell, I might have done the same. Shit, this cycle of hating and understanding Riorson is getting old.

The sour look on my face must make Imogen realize the need for a change of subject. "Violet was a wreck after she killed Jack Barlowe, and if anyone deserved it, it was that psychopath. She's too noble for her own good." She snorts as a quick grin crosses her face. "Gods, I used to hate her. I assume she told you I broke her arm on assessment day?"

I grin in return despite my mood. "Sloane did. And you're definitely definitely right about her being too noble. She was the most honorable eight-year-old you ever met!" The grin expands into one of the biggest smiles I've felt in years. "I remember one summer weekend lunch around that time. She had eaten two cookies and found out I didn't get one. She went to the kitchen and helped the chef make another batch to bring me."

"Ugh!" Imogen's eyes roll and she pauses in the path as she gives me a disgusted look. "That's so... sweet."

"That's Violet." I smile at the memory of messy icing and too many sprinkles. "She's always been my best friend."

The look on Imogen's face, like she's stepped in dragon dung, evaporates as she whispers, "Really?" My face grows serious as I nod.

"Well, I can't say I feel quite that way," she turns to continue up the path, "but with how pissed I was when I found out she was being tortured by Varrish, I think it's safe to say I finally consider her my friend."

"I knew neither of you were trustworthy," comes a snarky voice from behind me. I look back at the spiky black-haired flier called Kai. His tall, wide build reminds me of Garrick, but his deliberately provoking manner makes him appear small and weak in comparison. "Anyone who can befriend the daughter of the general who's sacrificed neighboring civilians for years deserves to die right alongside her."

"Wanna try that again?" Imogen snarls over my shoulder.

Kai comes to a quick stop, but smirks and relaxes back onto his heels. The second flier, a stocky third-year driftleader named Bragen, steps up behind Kai to his left, hugging the cliff's edge. Kai folds his arms. "Please. None of us can do anything without us all dying up here. Consider this foreplay." Then he fucking winks at Imogen.

I feel a breeze past my right ear and hear a slice as the sword strap on Kai's right shoulder falls onto the path. An instant later, it’s followed by a thud as a dagger imbeds itself in the cliff wall just behind him.

"The foreplay better be good if you're that quick to go down," Imogen mockingly flirts.

Kai's face drains of color as he slowly turns to look at the dagger, then over his shoulder at the sheathed sword on the ground. Bragen stiffens and watches Kai. Suddenly, he busts out laughing, turns around to grab ahold of the gryphon behind him, and completely loses all composure as tears of laughter start to fall down his face. "She's got you pegged!" he manages to squeak out through breathless laughter.

The blood that drained from Kai's face floods back causing his face to turn as red as the Flame Section patch on my jacket. "Seriously, Bragen?" he grinds out.

"Hey! You brought that on yourself." Bragen starts to compose himself as he wipes his face with the back of his sleeve. He reaches behind Kai and pulls the dagger from the cliff wall, flips it in his hand, and passes it to me. "Say stupid shit, get daggers thrown at your head. I don't know what you expected–"

Kai and Bragen freeze, tipping their heads the same way that riders do when speaking with their dragons. The fliers’ faces rapidly transform from anger and amusement to fear.

"Wyvern!" Molvics voice crashes through the bond.

"RUN!" Imogen yells and yanks me around by the elbow, as she turns and starts to sprint up the path. I pursue, hot on her heels. I can hear Kai and Bragen behind me, closely followed by the taloned run of their gryphons. Adrenaline kicks in and we scale the next ascent in record time.

"You have three ascents remaining, and you're about to face more resistance."

Before I can wonder what Molvic means, wind starts to beat at our faces, pushing outward from the cliff in an unnatural motion. One of the wind wielders must be trying to clear the clouds, but it's also pushing us closer to the edge. The fatigue immediately doubles, and steady breathing requires far too much concentration. As I turn the next corner, the edges of my vision start to dim, and I can just make out a rope moving out of the corner of my eye. My vision snaps back to clarity, and time seems to slow as my stomach drops.

"STOP!" I whip around and just manage to grab Kai by the collar as he starts to stumble over the edge of the turn. His foot is caught on a thin, nearly imperceptible rope that's gone taut from one edge of the path to the other. The wind and his momentum carry us both right up to the edge as our feet lose purchase on the stone scattered along the path. Terror causes my stomach to flip as I feel the effect of gravity take hold, and our combined weight starts to fall.

A hand forms a vice grip on my other bicep. Bile rises in my throat at the sudden memory of viney tendrils, but it’s Imogen's surprising strength that holds me steady. Her right hand clutches onto a perfect handhold in the cliff wall as she pulls me back onto the path. Bragen has Kai firmly by the wrist and holds him steady, returning him firmly to the path. We pant and stare at each other for seconds we can't afford.

Kai grinds his teeth, working his jaw as though struggling with himself. "Thank–"

A dragon, or maybe a wyvern, roars through the otherwise calm clouds directly behind us, startling us all back to the very dangerous present.

Imogen pulls herself together faster than the rest of us. "Thank him later, keep running!"

I quickly reach down and cut the rope before continuing the sprint behind her. We take the next to last ascent slower than the previous one, making sure of our footing, nervous of any additional traps. Dragons and wyverns alike continue to roar unseen in the mass of clouds that steadily moves further away from the cliff wall. Half way up what I think must be the final incline, lighting sparks the sky, and thunder cracks deafeningly through the sky behind us before everything goes silent.

Violet’s out there. My heart starts to pound for a whole new reason as I wait for more lightning to flash, but it doesn’t come. Is she hurt? What’s going on?

"Molvic?"

"They are verifying now, but the lighting wielder appears to have defeated the enemies."

Damn, with the first shot?

We steadily run our way up to the top of the final incline and move to the sides as riders, flier cadets, and gryphons continue to pour out of the path behind us. The adrenaline does not subside, however. A quick glance is all it takes to see that Violet's monster of a black dragon hasn't yet returned. Molvic said she was fine, but I won't believe it until I see it.

I see Rhiannon a few dozen strides in from the edge of the cliff. She and Sawyer appear to be supporting Ridoc, the latter of whom’s pale, clammy complexion suggests he’s recovering from a mending. And yep, Brennan is just a few paces beyond them. Just as I take my first step their way, a massive shadow starts to form around me, and I dash to the side right as massive black-scaled legs touch down feet to my left.

"You could have crushed someone!" I hear a familiar voice lecture.

I finally relax and smile up at Violet while Tairn chortles back at her. She turns her attention towards Riannon, Ridoc, and Sawyer. I look back towards Imogen, but she's already moved on and is laughing a few feet away with Quinn. Instead, I lock eyes with Kai. His haughty fury is back, and he looks from me to Violet. I'm not sure what it's going to take to get along with that asshole, but apparently it's more than saving his life.

Chapter Text

“I cannot believe anyone thinks this is a good idea,” I mutter to Sloane as we both watch the current fight on the mat. “Has leadership really decided that the best way to get the riders and fliers to get along is to have us beat the shit out of each other?”

Rows of mats line the auditorium of Riorson house, and the division between riders and fliers is clearly visible as the two cohorts line up on opposite sides. For one time only, the groups are allowed to challenge each other in a laughable attempt by leadership to bridge the gap caused by years of hostilities. Emetterio and Devera call pairs forwards based on requests for challenges that were mostly requested by fliers. The riders seem mostly not to care either way if the fliers exist.

“I know. At best it stopped us from killing each other at Basgiath, but maybe that’s enough for now?” Sloane winces as Imogen lands a solid kick to the side of the flier Neve’s head. Sloane’s face quickly changes to surprise as Neve manages to keep her wits about her enough to grab and twist Imogen’s leg. “You know, they do have some serious fighters.”

“Yeah, the two third years have been pretty impressive. I don’t think I’ve seen someone match Imogen this closely.”

Sloane smirks at me. “Maybe one of them will put an end to your winning streak.”

I let out a small laugh. “Maybe, but I doubt it. I think Violet’s right about the pattern. Everything has been centered around our squad with each of the matches so far being a grudge match. The only one that has any animosity towards me that I know of is– ”

"Kai Ashbluff & Aaric Greycastle!" Professor Devera’s voice rings over the noise. The asshole flier from the cliff shoots me a cocky smile, and leans over to say something into Bragen’s ear that makes the third-year roll his eyes.

"Predictable," I mutter to Sloane as I start to hand her my weapons.

“At least this one will last longer than when you fought me during assessment.”

“I very much doubt that. You didn’t have enough sense to know when to quit, remember?” I give her a sarcastic smile. “Still don’t.”

“Ha. Ha.” She resituates the weapons so they're solidly in her grip as I lay my jacket over the top. “I’ll bet you two days of chore duty that he gets at least three good hits. He’s got probably twenty pounds on the first year that broke your wrist.”

I pause, seriously considering it.

Before I can answer, Avalynn joins. “Nah, the flier’s got at least thirty pounds on Aaric. I bet he manages to knock you to the ground before he gets his ass kicked.”

“Yeah, this is at least going to be your longest fight yet, Greycastle. Three minutes, minimum.” Bayler snorts to Avalynn’s right.

“Really?” I pause, looking at them each in turn. “All of you?” They all silently smile back waiting for me to take the bait.

“Alright, fine.” I raise my eyebrows and cross my arms in challenge. “Let’s put some real skin in the game. I’ll bet you each one week of chore duty that not only is it going to be my fastest match, but he won’t get in a single hit.”

“You’re on!” Bayler holds out his hand, and we shake on it. Avalynn and Sloane nod before smiling at one another.

I shake my head as I step on to the mat. Kai turns from handing his weapons off to Maren and does a short round of stretches while stepping up to the mat. He is about four inches taller than me, and I think Bayler’s guess is off because he has more like forty pounds on me. Kai definitely has the size advantage. From his stretches though, I can already tell that I’m more quick and nimble.

We might actually be evenly matched. The fliers are supposed to be excellent fighters since they don't have a signet on which to rely. Maybe this one will actually last a few minutes and be worth my time. I didn't walk the parapet to prove my ability to beat the shit out of people, but it's not wholly lacking in entertainment value. Extra chore duty isn’t a bad price to pay for a decent fight.

“Ashbluff.” I nod to him in acknowledgement.

“Greycastle.” His smirk and mocking stance tell me all I need to know – this is going to be easy. The ones that are actually good fighters like that asshole Riorson don't feel the need to show off so much. “Let’s see how quick you tap out now that it’s one-on-one.”

“Gods, you’re going to prove Imogen right, aren’t you.” I close my eyes and rub the bridge of my nose. Somehow, I can already tell that he’s going to be stupid enough to open with a fake lunge. Stifling a low groan, I step up to take my position. This will be over before he realizes it.

Kai narrows his eyes as he drops into his own fighting stance, and right on que, he shifts his wait just as I predicted.

"Begin!" Devera calls out.

Planning to counter his fake lunge, I plant my weight on my left leg. Kai moves to his left, and I move my hands as if to react. When he switches from his ruse into his real approach, I duck down to hook his left leg in the crook of my left elbow. Using his momentum, I force him into a forward flip causing him to land on his back behind me. As he attempts to gain his feet, I grab his left leg and push his knee up to his chest to pin him down.

"Quick to go down indeed."

“Fuck off!” Kai’s face flashes with anger. My vision flickers for less than a heartbeat before out of the corner of my eye, I picture his right arm swinging up towards my neck. Prior to hitting his target, I reach out with my other arm, seize his arm mid strike, and hold it steady while maintaining my grip on his leg.

"Yield yet?"

The flier's shock holds for a breath longer. Then he smirks, and a dimple pops on his cheek. Apparently this guy doesn’t know when to give up either. I let go of his left leg just before his right leg drives up towards my groin. I use the force of his kick and my grip on his right arm to flip him onto his stomach. He cries out as I wrench his right arm up behind his back, and plant my weight on his spine.

"Now?" I ask, starting to get bored again.

Kai briefly tries to maneuver out of my hold, but quickly realizes that he's well and truly caught before tapping the mat with his free hand.

All of fifteen seconds. It took me longer to remove all my weapons. I stand up and offer a hand to Kai, who surprisingly accepts and gives me a begrudging nod of respect before heading to the flier side of the mat. Turning back to my squad, I notice the looks of total shock on their faces.

Bayler breaks the momentary silence. “Gods damn, Greycastle…”

"What? You admitted yourselves that you didn’t expect me to lose."

Avalynn shakes her head. “Yeah, but… damn.”

Sloane looks a little pale as she holds out weapon filled arms.

“You okay?” I ask quietly.

“Yeah.” Her chuckle is a slightly higher pitch than normal. “Just glad you’re on our squad. What are you going to do outside of classes with your three chore-free weeks?”

I smile as I sheath the last of my daggers.

“Absolutely nothing.”

“You are welcome,” Molvic teases.

“For what?” It’s not like he’s one of the many combat masters who trained me over the last fifteen years.

Molvic elects not to reply.

Chapter Text

It's nice to be the odd man out for a reason that makes me happy. While Kai, Bragen, and Ridoc are struggling behind me on the snow covered mountain path, I am comfortably leading the way with sure foot falls. I have always loved the snow. Growing up in the capital, we would only get snow fall on occasion due to the warm ocean currents, but the few family vacations we had were always to the Luceras mountain ranges where we'd stay in the royal cabin. The multi-story twelve bedroom house would probably be better described as a mansion, but when compared to the palace, it felt downright cozy.

Father always had some uptight aristocrat or military leader with us doing something for the kingdom, and while Halden, Alic, and I were brought along, we were pretty well ignored. No tutoring, minimal guards. Just brothers being kids. As much of a kid as we ever were at least.

It wasn’t until I was truly desperate inside the interrogation classroom that I even remembered the cabin. We never went back after Alic died. But before, when it was just the three of us hiking through the snow, or even when I would sit outside and enjoy the atmosphere, I’d feel a serenity that I haven’t experienced since. If it weren’t for the company I’m keeping today, I think I would see a glimmer of that again right now.

Despite the cold and my enjoyment of the atmosphere, I feel the warmth of the ever-present heat just under my skin. In general, I notice that it comes and goes with my mood, but today it seems to be responding to the cold. Felix said we should expect this to happen between the time our dragons channel and we manifest, but it's damn uncomfortable. I roll my neck a few times in each direction and undo the top few buttons of my flight jacket, trying to release the tension and shake off the heat.

I stop as we approach the skinny cave that Molvic and Aotrom directed us to search. Today’s mission from Professor Trissa has the entire squad split into groups of fours and fives. Our dragons can sense the summoning runes that she’s hidden throughout the mountain range, and the cadets are required to collect as many as possible to get the prize of a weekend entirely free of any responsibility.

The others trudge slowly up behind me, beads of sweat glistening on each of their foreheads. "How are you... this good... at everything?!" Ridoc gasps, bending to rest his forearms on his thighs as he catches his breath.

"Unclasp your flight leathers for a few minutes while you catch your breath." I pull a small kerchief from my satchel and hand it to them. "Cool down, wipe off the sweat before you catch a chill, then put the layers back on."

Ridoc gives me an incredulous look as he takes the cloth and does as I instruct. "Seriously. I don't get it. The fighting, I get. The backwoods country hike through the snow, that doesn't make any sense to me."

I shrug. "When I was a child, we took vacations in the Luceras mountains in the spring. Plenty of snow."

"Vacations?" Kai snarls in contempt. "How pampered were you to afford vacations?" Kai takes the cloth from Ridoc, who gives me a swift look.

Dammit. I'm usually not that careless with information that could hint towards my real identity. "Any business trip feels like a vacation to a child who is given their own free reign." I notice Kai rolls his eyes at me and hands the cloth to Bragen, who in turn rolls his eyes at Kai. Bragen is one of the only fliers who appears to be trying to bridge the gap in the squad.

"You are getting sentimental. It is overruling your common sense," Molvic drawls over the bond.

"Not sentimental. Nostalgic. But I can’t argue with the second part." I return my attention towards the cave. Its entrance is barely as wide as my shoulders. "Is this the right one?"

"Of course it is." His bored tone conveys that he's not really interested at the moment.

Ridoc steps past me, and peers into the cave depth. "It's too skinny for the gryphons to fit, let alone the dragons. Also, it's pitch black." He turns back to the group. "Maybe we need to forward this spot to one of the other teams that has a fire wielder. I can't hold a mage light for very long."

Both fliers' faces break into smirks, Bragen's amused and Kai's smug. "Riders are never prepared." They each bend to open their packs and start rummaging while Ridoc and I exchange confused looks.

Kai is the first to stand, holding up a pair of torches. Bragen stands a moment later, studying the runes he holds in his hands, "Crap, I grabbed two fire runes by accident. One of the others must be short."

Ridoc stares at them in stunned silence. I break into a smile and look over at him. The look on his face is hard to decipher as multiple emotions flash across it, one after another. "Fuck!" He rubs his hand over his face. "I was already pissed enough about being beaten at outdoor stuff by him!" He jabs a finger at me. "Now it's you two?!"

Once the torches are lit, we make our way into the cave. Bragen takes the lead, followed by Kai and Ridoc, with me bringing up the rear. We make our way to the back of the short cave in weary silence and find a chest on the floor right at the very back. In the box sits the summoning rune that Professor Trissa described. Ridoc steps forward to pick it up. "Who wants to have a go at reversing it?"

Bragen steps up to his side. "I've got this." Bragen quickly gets to work, and in less than two minutes, we're making our way out of the narrow tunnel in reverse order that we came in.

I call back to Bragen, "What did you mean earlier when you said that you grabbed two runes? Haven't all the second and third-years been taking classes to learn how to make them?"

"Yes, but the drift shares the ones we're best at so that we're all prepared. Well, we have been at least. Not sure what to expect now that Riorson is back." He pauses and I hear the note of fear in his voice. "How long do you think we have once we return, and Violet tells him how to raise the wards?"

"Minutes," Ridoc and I answer in unison, then startle and look up at one another. Unfortunately for the fliers, as soon as the wards are raised, they will no longer be able to wield from their gryphons' power. Mind work will be out of the question. They’ll be defenseless against the Aretian riders, but at least they’ll be safe from the venin.

"Riorson has always been protective of Violet, but he's obsessive about it now. I don't blame him." Ridoc bites out the words as we all start forward again. "What Varrish and Nolan did to her. I should have been there instead of..." I can feel his gaze on the back of my neck. "Never mind."

"I feel the same way." The guilt over that night isn't new. Ridoc taking me to his room to meet with Dyre was the right thing to do. If Varrish’s aide had seen the blisters on my hands, we would have all been screwed. But the guilt that we weren’t with Violet stings all the same. "They would have taken any of us that were with her though so I doubt we would have done much good." We would have made it much worse. Nolan would certainly have recognized me, and there's no telling what would have happened.

Even if it damns me, I will never let something like that happen again.

"Who are Varrish and Nolan?" Kai asks from a few steps behind.

"Nolan is the Basgiath mender,” Ridoc answers, “and Varrish was the Vice Commandant until Aetos, Riorson and Violet killed him."

Bragen chokes. "They killed a Vice Commandant?!"

"Well mostly Aetos and Riorson I suspect, since Violet wasn’t exactly in any shape to fight."

Kai scoffs. He murmurs something under his breath, and I can just make out the word "fragile."

Ridoc whips around, and before Bragen or I can react, he throws Kai into the wall. As though summoned directly to Ridoc's hand, a dagger appears at Kai's neck, and from the indention in his skin, Ridoc's not joking around. "Fragile, huh?" Ridoc menacing growl is low but clear. "She was tortured and mended for five days. Five days of dislocated joints and broken bones. All so she could protect us. All because we stole the book needed to raise the Aretian wards and protect your citizens. And you call her fragile." Ridoc leans in. "I wonder how fragile you are."

"Hey!" A drop of blood wells on Kai's throat. "Stop!" I grab Ridoc by the bicep, but he doesn't react.

"Ridoc!" I yell and squeeze Ridoc's arm. Ridoc startles and turns to look at me. The haunted look in his eyes lessens but only barely. He lets go and pushes past Bragen back into the cave.

"For fucks sake, Kai." Bragen sighs. "You have to let it go. We're here now. This is the right place for us to learn to protect our people, our families."

I steady Kai on his feet and push him to the front of the group, intent to put plenty of distance between him and Ridoc. "And you would do well to remember that Violet is trying to protect your family, too, and stop having a go at her just because her mother isn't."

Kai looks back and forth between me and Bragen. "I..." He takes a deep breath and looks down. "You're right. I'll try."

We make our way out of the restricted cave tunnel in silence, and the light from the entrance comes into view. I can't get the images Ridoc summoned, of Violet's battered face from Varrish's torture, out of my head. Thank Zihnal that Dain saw the truth when he did. And thank Malek that Varrish is dead.

A few strides from the mouth of the cave, we're plunged back into darkness, and I look past Kai as he holds up the torch. A wall of orange blocks the entrance of the cave. I can make out the movement of scales as a dragon's head fills and scrapes the top of the entrance. A dragon with only one golden eye stares straight at us.

Oh gods. Solas.

"Get down!" I grab Kai by the back of his leathers, and spin him behind me, as I tackle him and Bragen to the floor creating a pile three bodies deep in the narrow entrance. Fuck, there's no room to run. Solas's fire is going to fill the entire tiny cave. I brace myself for the moment of burning pain before the end, and my mind fills with the smells and screams of burning cadets in that first formation at Basgiath. This is it. I hold my breath as my heart tries to fit a lifetime of beats into a split second.

Instead of an inferno, my skin instantly chills under what feels like a damp, freezing blanket. I open my eyes to see we're buried in a deluge of ice cold snow half a foot thick. When I tilt my head up, my pulse still pounding, I'm met with another deluge of snow that makes its way down the back of my uniform.

"What the fuck, Aotrom!" Ridoc yells. He’s covered fully in head-to-toe snow, looking like a child's decoration straight out of solstice. My jaw drops, and I twist to look towards the dragon I thought was Solas but is actually Ridoc's brown swordtail. Aotrom stands with his back to us at the entrance, looking over his shoulder into the cave. He sweeps his rear leg back, and another half foot of snow covers the four of us as he chortles.

"Fine. Fine!" Ridoc splutters. "We're even. Now stop!" He turns to me, annoyance etched on his face. "Seriously, you couldn't take one for the team? You had to give him a clear shot?"

I shakily get to my feet, allowing Kai and Bragen to slowly stand in turn. "I thought–"

"Stop and breathe," Molvic interrupts.

I trail off as I look around and see the torch at the entrance to the floor where Kai dropped it, filling the cave with a warm glow. That must have been it. The torch light reflecting on Aotrom's brown scales must have made him appear orange. It must have just been because I was thinking about Varrish, and the not-actually-orange scales made me think of Solas.

"Oh," Ridoc says softly, "You thought we were about to be torched by a wyvern." He grips my shoulder to steady me. "I've been having nightmares about them since the cliffs too."

I nod. No reason to explain about Solas. I know Ridoc would understand. He was there in the first formation after parapet this year. I don't feel like going into that with Kai and Bragen though.

"We'd better get back." Ridoc continues as he returns to brushing the snow off his hair. "Once this melts, we're going to freeze our asses off on the return flight."

Five minutes later, we’re all mounted and flying back to Aretia through the mountain pass. Half way through the ride back, Molvic suddenly stiffens, and his wing skip a beat. The moment he finds his regular rhythm, he puts on an extra burst of speed.

Apprehension shivers up my spine. "What's wrong?"

"I have to meet with the others as soon as we return so you will have to dismount quickly. There has been an incident."

"What kind of incident?"

"A dragon was killed."

My heart sinks. Riders have been dying a lot more frequently in Aretia since their fighting on the front lines, but it hits differently when they die because their dragon does. "Whose dragon? Was it a venin attack?"

Molvic hesitates before answering. "He did not currently have a rider, and it was not a venin. It was another dragon." He growls out the last word in displeasure.

"What?!" I call aloud in shock. "One of the riot killed an unbonded dragon? Who was it?"

"The dragonslayer was the lightning wielder's younger dragon, Andarna.” Molvic swivels his neck to face me. “She killed Solas while he attacked her rider in a cave."

My stomach drops. That... can't be. It's just a coincidence. We've all been thinking about Basgiath recently. If there was an attack by Solas, it was bound to be when some of us were thinking about him or Varrish or the horrible week that led up to the riot leaving. It just happened to be me and Ridoc thinking about him when it happened. That's the only explanation.

Chapter Text

Riorson house is in full chaos as speculation around Melgrin’s warning spreads through leadership and cadets alike. The riot appears to be split cleanly down the middle. Half either think Violet’s wrong or don’t care either way because they have no intention of fighting for Nevarre. The other half believe Violet and want to go back to protect the Vale. Personally, I’ve never wanted so badly for Violet to be wrong. If she’s wrong, Samara will fall and the results would be devastating. If she’s right, and Melgrin’s vision of Samara really is meant to be a distraction, then the wards and the vale really are in imminent danger. If she’s right, and the wards fall, then the war and my kingdom are about to be lost.

The first-years have been ordered to remain behind, but none in our squad have any plans to follow that order. As we cut a path up to the flight field to plead our case, Kai of all people is directly at my side. "I never thought there would be a day when I would be volunteering to go fight for Navarre, even if it is ultimately to save the continent." He fixes me with an intense look then nods as we crest the top of the trail.

The flight field is utter chaos. Riders run in every direction, preparing to leave for Nevarre. I take the lead as our first-years approach a mixed group of Aretian riders and Poromish fliers standing on the edge of the flight field in the middle of a heated discussion.

"They think that rushing into enemy territory with cadets is a mistake, and I agree." Brennan's voice carries over the last dozen paces even with his back turned to us. "You're going to get cadets, including yourself, killed!"

Rhiannon holds her ground as she puts her hand on her hip. "It's not like we're taking the first-years."

Fuck this!

"Which is bullshit!" I catch eyes with Violet who looks startled at my sudden appearance. "We have just as much right to protect the hatching grounds as second- and third-years." Violet's face strickens. She knows it is my duty to defend Nevarre, and I can tell she's on the edge of backing my claim when Brennan moves.

Brennan steps aside so he can sweep his eyes over the whole group. "None of you are going!"

Violet's eyes snap to her brother. "You'd rather stay here knowing there's every chance mom will die?"

Brennan flinches, and his voice drops in volume as his face grimaces in the pain that only memory can cause. "She had no trouble sending any of the three of us to our deaths."

"We don't have time for this!" Riorson interrupts. "If you aren't coming, Brennan, then that's on you. But if we don't leave now there's a chance we'll be too late to defend Basgiath." Then he turns to face the first-years. "And absolutely not. Most of you haven't even manifested a signet and I'm not serving you up with your dragons as another energy source."

Sloane raises her chin defiance. "I've manifested."

"And you're still a first-year." Xaden dismisses Sloane and faces Rhiannon to start giving her instructions.

That bastard. Pressure rings in my ears making it impossible to hear the rest of their conversation. The heat in my veins feels as though it's spreading throughout my entire body. I clench and unclench my hands, trying to dissipate the anger, but it continues to build. I feel power start to rise through my torso as I struggle to get my emotions back under control. Oh shit... is this... am I backlashing now of all times? I should have plenty of time left.

"Lock it down!" Molvic orders.

I close my eyes and throw myself into grounding, imagining the touch of flakes on my skin, the smell of crisp air, and the crunch of snow under my feet. In spite of the perceived chill, beads of sweat start to form on the small of my back. It's getting harder and harder. If I don't manifest soon, I'm done for.

"Stop blocking it, and you will be fine." Molvic says in the gentlest voice I've ever heard him use.

I keep my eyes closed as my pulse continues to steady. I continue to breathe deeply as I feel the gusts of wind as multiple dragons launch around us. He's right. The Aretian professors have made it clear. Once your dragon has channeled, it's up to you to manifest. This is entirely on me.

"They're all going to get themselves killed." Brennan growls from my side.

Finally opening my eyes, I look up and see half the Aretian riot flying off to the north. Tairn is clearly visible in the lead starting to level off. And on his back I can just barely make out the silver hair of Violet's braid.

My vision darkens for a split second then snaps into clarity. Except… this doesn't make sense. I'm not on the flight field. I'm standing in a circular room I've never seen, and there appears to be a large stone in the center. The rest of the squad are gone. The only person that I can see is Violet, but something is wrong. She's shaking on her knees and clutching the stone. Her face is drained of its normal pallor and she… she looks like she’s dying.

I blink rapidly as my vision returns to the flight field. "Violet is." I choke out. No, it can't be. I can still see her and Tairn flying towards Basgiath, so it obviously isn’t real. Unless… it hasn’t happened yet. Unless it’s going to happen. But that can't be what really occurs. She can’t… I can't be... I would have to have the ability to see the future, and that’s… impossible.

"It isn't the first time," Molvic gently guides my thoughts.

"What did you say?" Brennan grabs my bicep and spins me to face him.

Oh gods. The vice commandant dead. The rope on the cliff. Solas's attack. This is really happening.

"Don't let anyone know that you don't trust entirely."

I look up at Brennan and think fast. "You're supposed to be the tactician, right? You know the venin can’t attack Samara with the wards up, and that if the wards were down, they wouldn’t settle for attacking an outpost. They are going to attack Basgiath, and you know the size of their forces. You know they don't stand a chance without our full reinforcements." I push his hand off of my arm, and look at him with all the disgust and anger I feel. "So yes, both of your sisters will get themselves killed along with the rest of Nevarre while we apparently stay here."

"That was dragon-levels of brutal." Molvic gives a slight chuckle.

The mix of outrage and dread on Brennan's face tells me that I've hit the mark. The rest of the squad watches us with open-mouthed disbelief that I would dare to speak to a lieutenant colonel that way.

"Why the fuck didn't you tell me?" I mentally growl back. "I could have accidentally given myself away, and then we'd both be screwed."

"I stopped you whenever you got close."

"You're right." Brennan finally breathes, his face still molten with anger. "You're right." Brennan repeats, and he rounds on the rest of the riders and fliers. "Grab your provisions, and meet back here in thirty minutes. Prepare for a two day journey since we'll be keeping pace with the gryphons. Everyone but Greycastle is dismissed.” The squad wastes no time leaving to pack, but Sloane raises her eyebrows at me before following the others.

“Follow me,” Brennan orders, leading us to the trees at the edge of the flight field, tension radiating off him.

Once we’re out of sight of any riders remaining on the flight field, he rounds on me, grabbing me by the collar. “You may outrank me in Nevarre, Tauri, but in Aretia you answer to me. Pull bullshit like that again, and I’ll send your pampered ass back to Calldyr.”

“I’m not pulling rank on you, Sorrengail,” I spit out his last name as I grab his hand and shove it off me, “but if you think that I’m going to stay here while my kingdom is under attack, while you leave your sisters to fight in this war alone again –”

White-hot agony erupts through my face a moment before my ass, then my back, hits the ground. My sight blackens for a moment, but there’s no vision. The only thing I see when it returns is the sight of blood covering my hand as I pull it away from my nose.

A heartbeat later, Brennan kneels beside me. “Don’t ever talk to me like that again.” His voice is deadly with an anger I’ve never heard from anyone before. “Like I didn’t just spend the last six years of my life fighting this war for them while simultaneously thinking that I’d never see them again. Like I wasn’t also protecting your people from a conflict that you’ve only been involved with for two months.”

I breathe deeply through my mouth, and guilt creeps in at the pain in his eyes. “You’re right. I’m sorry.” I sit up and wince at the twinge in my neck. “That was uncalled for.”

His eyes search mine, and the haunted look recedes. “Here.” He reaches up to cup my face with his hands. A sharp pain cracks through my nose, followed quickly by relief from the worst of the initial break. He hands me his water skin and kerchief.

“Clean up, then go grab your pack.” Without another word, he stands and leaves the same way as the rest of my squad.

I make my way back to Riorson house a moment later. "I still can’t believe that you didn’t tell me. How do I control this? What do I need to do?" I bite out at Molvic.

"Your guess is as good as mine." I can hear the verbal shrug in Molvic's so-normally-sure tone.

Great.

Chapter Text

I keep to myself as the rest of the squad first-years talk around me outside the ward stone chamber. Brennan is inside mending the stone, and Violet is in the sky fighting. She's safe, sort of. She’s nowhere near the stone at least. Maybe I was wrong.

"Do you think everything that I see in these visions comes true?"

"I would think not. Every decision made leaves at least one other path unchosen. You alone make hundreds of decisions, mostly inconsequential, in a single day. Even those seemingly meaningless decisions add up over time. The potential variations are endless."

"What good is this ability then? Other than likely getting me killed if anyone finds out," I shutter. "Or worse, put to use by my father."

"I suspect it is similar to your battle brief class – the value is all in which questions you ask."

On that cryptic note, I go quiet in thought. Does that mean I can change the outcome? If she's not near the stone, then she's not in danger. Well, as not in danger as any one of us are during the battle for our lives. I just have to stop her from getting in there.

"Are you alright? You don't look like you feel so good."

Startling, I glance down to see Sloane at my side, her face haggard as she stares up at me with sky-blue eyes. Her normally cleanly-braided, blonde hair is fraying by her temples, and the bags under her eyes contradict the alertness in her gaze as she surveys my face. None of us has slept except for a few hours periodically on our dragons en route to Basgiath.

"I feel about as good as you look." I give her a teasing smile and lightly hip-check her.

"Asshole," Sloane retorts as she rolls her eyes, but she can't fully cover up her smile. "Keep it up, and I'll stick Kai on you."

I snort and look across the musty room. Kai is deep in conversation with Avalynn. Wait ... is he…? He can't be laughing with the other rider. "You know, I think we're actually starting to grow on him."

Sloane follows my line of sight. "I still can't believe he actually came with us."

"Me neither." I sigh out a deep, tired breath. "Maybe there's actually a chance of peace between the two kingdoms if we make it through today."

"I somehow doubt that." Sloane bites out. "We never have peace within Nevarre. Peace on the continent is a fantasy." She glares at me again. "Now what's wrong? And don't deflect. I’ve never seen you this tense."

"I've just…" I hesitate before continuing, "I've just got a bad feeling. I've got to keep Sorrengail safe."

"Brennan can handle himself," Sloane looks down the tunnel towards the wrong sibling, "but you're not doing him any good dead on your feet. So I'd say rest, though I'll settle for you standing there with your eyes closed, while I keep watch."

"I'm not taking a nap."

"I never said you had to," she bites back. "I'll tell you if anything happens, I promise."

I continue to glare down at her, then roll my shoulders to relieve the tension. She's right. "Fine, but it needs to be absolutely anything. Twenty minutes, and we'll switch."

I lean my head back and close my eyes. I inhale deep breaths of the earthy scented air and listen to the low chatter of the rest of the squad. We're all here. Together we can stop anything from going to complete shit.

A second or a lifetime later, I feel a prod as Sloane whispers, "Someone's coming. Quickly."

"MOVE!"

My eyes snap open just as a blur of brown and silver hair flies past. Shit! I take off down the tunnel after Violet, but she's already gone. How the hell is she running that fast?! Her thin frame is a clear advantage in the narrow tunnel. Where I have to turn completely sideways, she can still run with her shoulders only angled.

I catch up to her just in time to hear ahead as she gasps into the chamber. "Does. It. Work?"

I push in just behind her. "Damn, Sorrengail, I don't think I've ever seen you run that fast!" I have to figure out how to get her out of here.

A sudden movement to the left catches my attention causing my already racing pulse to leap. I reach for my sword just as Brennan tries to stagger upward and loses his balance. Before he can hit the ground, I catch him and wrap his arm over my shoulder to take his weight. Despite his clear exhaustion, I breathe a small sigh of relief. Thank Amari. Brennan won't let Violet die.

At the thought, the vision from the flight field flashes before my eyes again. Violet is clinging to the stone. Her body is failing. But this time there's more. Brennan and the general try to pull her away from the stone and come away with burns on their hands.

No! I mentally shake myself back into the chamber just as a roar sounds overhead causing all three of us to look up. It's impossible to make out from here if it was a dragon or wyvern. As I turn my attention back to the stone, my heart sinks. Violet's hand is firmly on the stone, and her intense look of concentration is never a good thing.

Violet looks up at Brennan, continuing a conversation that I missed. "It can hold power, but we don't have enough riders who can imbue down here."

Brennan shifts his weight slightly off my shoulder and backs onto the wall as he starts to gain his footing. "I'll have Marbh put the word out."

"We need every rider who can make it." Violet stills as though talking to one of her dragons, and the look of steel in her eyes is anything but comforting.

Turning my head to Brennan, I whisper so that only we can hear. "Marbh has to reach Aimser and Tiene."

Brennan's gaze jerks to mine and his body stiffens. "Why?" He clearly has no interest in seeing his mother again so soon.

"Because Violet has that look in her eyes, you're in no condition to stop whatever she's going to do, and I've never successfully talked her out of anything."

Brennan looks back at Violet and his eyes widen. He takes a deep breath. "Done." He looks down and away from Violet. "Damn it. I don't want to be stuck in here with my mother of all people."

I lightly chuckle as I turn back to him. "Yeah, well, neither do I. She'll probably send me straight back to my father."

Brennan finally appears to have gained his balance as he steps heavily away from the wall. "You know, I don't think she will." My look of skepticism forces him to continue. "I don't think she's ever liked your father. She does, however, value riders."

"You think she'll go against my father to protect a rider?" I snort out a low sarcastic laugh. "You've forgotten a few things in the years you've been gone."

His piercing stare has a hint of steel just like his little sister’s. "She wouldn't go directly against a command, no, but absent a clear command, I don't think she would choose your father over anyone. Outing you isn't a matter of protecting the kingdom."

I hold his glower for a moment longer before responding. "I guess we'll find out shortly."

Hardly a minute later, with the complete silence that can only come from years of training and experience, General Sorrengail walks into the chamber from the tunnel looking straight at her son, and we both turn to face her.

The room flickers. Brennan is next to the ward stone, holding his lifeless mother in his arms. Violet is crying. Mira is screaming.

I shutter and pull myself back again to see the very much alive general still staring at her son. After several tense heartbeats, she turns her attention to me. "Nice to see you, Cam. Your father's been looking for you."

Fuck. I hold up my chin and cross my arms. "I'm a bonded rider. There's nothing he can–"

"Don't really care." Her discerning expression turns back to Brennan. "It holds power?"

"It holds power," Brennan stiffly replies. "The other stone took three riders weeks to imbue, but they weren't exactly in a hurry. Marbh has already called for reinforcements."

"There are four other first-years just up the tunnel and me," I interject into the conversation. "Our dragons and gryphons are all channeling to us, and we've all started doing lesser magic already. We can get it started until reinforcements arrive if one of you can teach us."

"No, that will take too long," the general replies shortly before returning to interrogating her son. "Who was it in Aretia? How much time did they spend imbuing?"

Brennan's mouth drops. "How do you know we're in Aretia?" He pauses and he pulls himself back together. "Nevermind, that can wait. It was Violet, Aetos, and Riorson. You'd have to ask them to know for sure. I'd guess fifty hours between them."

We don't have that kind of time, I fume to myself, glancing in between Brennan and the general toward the ward stone. The blood rushes from my face, and my arms drop to my side as I look over and see Violet start to stumble then fall to her knees.

Brennan follows my gaze. "Violet?"

"Violet!" Their mother's face blanches as she turns to see Violet.

Just like the vision, Brennan and his mother rush to Violet's side before pulling away, each staring at their own burnt hands. Sweet Malek. I stare at Violet with my mouth slightly open, my mind whirring and coming up blank. This can’t be happening. I have to stop this. But for the first time in my life, I freeze with indecision.

The general steps right in front of me and shouts directly in my face, "What's your signet?"

I swallow. Her knowing won't help the situation. "Hasn't manifested."

She stares me down. "What about the others out there?"

I look over her shoulder as Brennan crouches next to Violet and answers, "None of the others have manifested except for Sloane. She's a siphon."

She continues to look into my eyes, but I can tell her mind is racing two steps ahead before she takes off back up the tunnel, only to return a split second later. She’s dragging Sloane behind her.

"I won't do it!" Sloane struggles against the grip on her arm, but her strength is nothing compared to Lilith Sorrengail's.

Brennan's eyes fly wide, and he sits off to the side of Violet as his mother pushes past. Without hesitation or letting go of Sloane, the general puts one foot on her daughter's shoulder and shoves her off the stone causing her to topple backward. Lightning erupts around the chamber from Violet's hand, filling the oversize room with a blinding, otherworldly light. Brennan immediately turns back to his sister and grabs the blistering hand that still crackles with power. They both scream as he mends her through the literal burnout for a few painful heartbeats before the lightning finally comes to a stop.

I lean down next to Brennan. "How can I help?" Steam may rise from her skin, but she's still breathing, thank Amari. She's not dead.

"There's nothing else to be done." Brennan whispers and falls to the floor beside Violet. Shit. Brennan's eyes close, and Violet is beside herself staring dazedly towards the stone, but they're both alive.

"I killed your mother!" I turn around to see General Sorrengail poke Sloane in the chest.

Violet staggers up onto her knees beside me and cries. "Mom!" Her hoarse voice causes Brennan's eyes to flutter open.

"I tracked her down and hauled her to her own execution, remember?" General Sorrengail shoves Slone into the stone. What the fuck is she doing? "You were there. I made you watch. You and your brother."

"Liam." Sloane's whisper is barely audible over the echoes in the chamber.

"I could have stopped his death, too, if I'd just paid a little more attention last year to what my own aide was doing."

Oh shit. Sloane's a siphon.

"No!" I hear Violet cry as she lounges forward to stop them, coming to the same conclusion. I step in right behind her and catch her just before she hits the ground dragging her back. "Let me go!" She tries to struggle, but she's too weak to even hold herself up.

"I can't." My voice nearly cracks with regret. "She's right. And if I have to choose between your life and hers, I choose yours." Fuck she'll never forgive me for this. This was the vision. Not Violet dead. Her mother dead after saving her life. And I had Brennan call her down here.

"Andarna!" Violet cries in my arms, and Violet's fucking dragon steps out of the shadows. Where the fuck did she come from?

"Can you hear them up there dying? That's what's happening." General Sorrengail's voice is the softest I've heard it since Brennan's wake. "Your friends are dying, Cadet Mairi." She laces her free hand with Sloane's. "Tyrrendor's heir is fighting for his life, and you can stop it. You can save them all."

Suddenly my vision flashes again. Riorson is on a hilltop. He appears near death, crouched in front of a purple robed figure, who’s gaunt face is framed with red veins. His sadistic smile says he's playing with this food. Just as the robed venin reaches back with his staff to strike the death blow, Riorson fists the ground and shadows explode with more magic than he could have possibly had a moment before, throwing the venin across the ravine.

"Xaden's dying." Violet sags in my arms pulling me back to the stone chamber.

Oh. My. Gods.

Riorson's not going to die. It’s so much worse. His soul is.

My heart pounds in my chest. What the fuck are we going to do now? Nobody could take him in a fair fight before, but now? We don't stand a chance.

And Violet... Has she lost her mother and Xaden on the same day? Riorson's a prick, but he's made her happier than I've ever known her to be.

Violet starts to struggle again in my arms. "No, no, no."

"I'm so sorry." For everything.

I look up to see Violet's mother sink against the stone, one hand linked with Sloane who’s terrified face is covered in shock and tears. "You're everything we dreamed you would be. All three of you. And I'll get to see him soon."

Brennan staggers towards her, but falls back to his knees and he starts to crawl instead. "Don't." He chokes out. "Don't do this."

Their mother takes one last look at her children. A faint smile passes across her lips. "Live well." And Lilith Sorrengail stills.

Brennan finally reaches his mom, and cradles her body in his arms. I release Violet as she pulls forward one last time. She reaches her mother and checks for a pulse, just as Mira runs into the chamber and screams while collapsing next to her mom.

Just like the vision.

The enormity of her death threatens to overwhelm me. I never exactly liked the general, but she was as much a mother to me as my father was a parent. Her presumed indifference to Violet was cruel, but she was still her mother and did everything she could to protect the children she had left. Her grief left her broken, but she was trying to do her best, even if she did end up doing more damage in the end. Could my father–

Andarna swings her neck to place her face inches in front of mine, breaking my train of thought. Her golden eyes pierce mine with determination, and I get the message.

Looking around the room, I see Sloane has backed into the chamber wall, clinging to it as though it alone can protect her. Her face is drained of all color, and her eyes are wide with terror as she looks down at the general’s body. I step in front of her to block her view just as Andarna did mine. "We need to get them out." I lock eyes with a now trembling Sloane and gently squeeze her shoulder until she jerkily nods. We both step forward to help the grieving family out of the chamber. As I lift Violet, Sloane pulls Brennan up by the arm. Mira carries Lilith. As a group, we make our way clumsily into the narrow tunnel.

Once we're all clear of the chamber, a muffled blast of heat beats at my back, followed immediately by a wave of power that can only mean the wards are back in place. I should be relieved that Violet’s alive. I should feel happy knowing that we won the battle, and I hear the crowd above start to cheer. I should feel at peace knowing that we're safe as I hear the wyvern carcasses fall. Instead I just feel empty.

Chapter Text

"What do I do?" I ask Molvic, sitting in the quietest section of the courtyard as everyone runs around in celebration.

Well, almost everyone. Brennan is exhausted and emotionally drained as he gives directions to the crowd. Sloane has decided to channel all of her emotions into anger and is ripping into Dain. Mira is sitting by herself with Lilith’s body, her eyes closed and her tear stained face devoid of all emotion. And Violet… she must be finding out right now that her world is even more upside down than she knew inside the ward chamber.

"Is that the right question to ask?"

Fucking cryptic dragons. I sigh. "What do you mean?"

"Would you not be better off asking yourself where you want to go before you ask how to get there?"

I glance through the opening of the courtyard and can just make out two riders between two black dragons and a blue dragon on the ridgeline.

"What I want can't happen,” I bite out. “What I want right now is for Violet to be as happy as she deserves. I want her to have her mother back. I want her to have the life she wants with Riorson. But there's no way to turn back from what he’s become."

"You of all people can see if there is."

What if he's right? "How do I do it?"

"All of your previous visions were triggered based on what you were currently thinking about. So if I were you, I would try focusing on the shadow wielder to see where his possibilities lie."

Okay, I'm up for giving that a shot. Taking slow deep breaths, I find my center in the wintery chill of the Luceras mountains, and I crack open the icy cover to Molvic's power. I hold onto the grounding and turn my thoughts to the one who killed my brother.

As though flipping through an illustration book in the archive, scene after scene floods my vision. One after another shows Riorson turning. Riorson with bloodshot eyes in a courtyard, surrounded by what appear to be dead guards. Riorson with distended veins in a forest, his blue daggertail Sgaeyl in the background. Riorson with those same red eyes in scene after scene surrounded by shadows.

Shit. Nothing with him and Violet.

At that thought, the flashes stop on one final scene. Riorson and Violet in Aretia. Violet's happier than I've ever seen her. And Riorson – his eyes are completely clear as he looks at Violet with a peace that I've never seen on his face.

I blink myself back into the courtyard and feel Molvic's pride wash over me.

"Were those multiple possibilities, or were they all the same future?"

"How would I know? But now that you at least know what you want and that it is possible, we can go back to your original question."

I take a deep breath to steady my nerves. While I've never been scared of Riorson, I also knew picking a fight would be foolish. This though… this might actually get me killed.

I walk through the empty corridors towards my destination. Classes resumed today with the signing of the second Aretian accords this morning, so Basgiath is mostly back to business as usual. Since the guards take their break during classes when cadet traffic is at its minimum, I'm able to walk straight up to the alcove next two the great halls' double doors and wait patiently in the shadows.

Once a quarter hour has passed, the doors open for the Senarium to start its mid morning break. As the continent’s aristocracy exits and goes their separate ways, Riorson pauses until the hallway is empty, just as I was counting on. "Aren't you supposed to be in class, cadet?" Riorson bites out the last word not even glancing my way.

Taking my foot off the wall, I step forward into the light. "We need to talk."

Riorson's onyx eyes narrow, searching mine. It’s been sixteen days since my vision of him pulling power from the ground, and no hint of red remains in his eyes.

Without a word he turns and reenters the great hall. I follow shortly behind, momentarily blinded by the late morning light that shines straight into my eyes through the multitude of tall windows. The enormous, austere room overpowers the relatively small table that sits in its center. Riorson crosses to the center table and turns to face me. Maintaining his typical reserved demeanor, he leans against the edge, crosses his arms, and watches me expectantly.

I've thought through dozens of ways to approach this conversation. Here's to hoping that I've chosen the right one.

Staring steadily back into his eyes, I break the silence. "She loves you, and you make her happy."

Riorson's eyes flare, and shadows swirl up his legs from under the table. While his stance remains unchanged, his body has tensed as though ready to strike. "Excuse me?"

"I thought it best to start this conversation with my motivations so that neither of us end up doing something we'd regret." I continue to hold his gaze without flinching. "She loves you, and you make her happy. I want whatever makes Violet happy and keeps her safe. That is second only to keeping Nevarre safe. I need you to understand that, so that when I tell you to do something, you do it. I need you to understand that because I'm the best bet to make that happen."

The smile that crosses Riorson's face is anything but friendly. His posture relaxes as he pushes off the table and walks towards me, stopping a few paces short. "Does the prince think he could do better?"

My heart beats increase. Maybe he's become more volatile than I knew in such a short time. "You misunderstand me. Violet is my best friend. I have no interest in her romantically." I hold steady as I continue. "My interest is in helping you keep her happy and safe by keeping the red out of your eyes."

My sight dims to nothing, and for a second, I think I'm about to have another vision, when I realize that the room has filled with shadow. Shit. I was anticipating something like this, but this is definitely going worse than I expected.

Out of the darkness, I hear Riorson's deadly calm voice. "Be very careful with your next words, or I'll be responsible for the death of a second prince." I can sense he is moving around me but can't quite make out his location. I take another deep breath to calm my nerves that are now tipped with anger. "Two questions to start us off. One: how do you know? And two: how exactly do you think you're going to help?"

"Same answer for both luckily." I look around to identify how best to mount a defense despite knowing the futility. "My signet."

For the first time since entering the room, I tense as I feel the tip of a blade against my spine.

"Which is?"

I send up a silent prayer to Amari that I haven't just fucked us all.

"Precognition."