Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

Chapter 21:

Fen takes a breath and pours a glass of water from the pewter before he starts reading. Liam moves closer to be able to translate for Jesinia, he sits on the couch directly to Jesinia’s right. 

Don’t freak out if you can’t immediately channel your dragon’s powers, Mira. Yeah, I know you have to be the best at everything, but this isn’t something you can control.

Mira scoffs, arms crossed, mumbling something no one can but Brennan can hear. Brennan rolls his eyes. Maybe they shouldn’t be sitting next to each other. 

They’ll channel when they feel you’re ready. And once they do, you’d better be ready to manifest a signet. Until then, you’re not ready. Don’t push it.

—Page sixty-one, the Book of Brennan

“I didn’t push it,” Mira remarks. Brennan doesn’t believe her and says as much, and to be honest, neither do I. Mira narrows her eyes at me and I hold my hands up in surrender. I’m absolutely not getting involved. 

“This really isn’t necessary.” I glance sideways at Liam as we make our way toward the door of the Archives. The cart doesn’t even squeak anymore. He fixed that the very first day. 

“Yeah, that was annoying.”

Liam laughs while signing, “sorry for fixing that.” He definitely sounds sarcastic. 

“You were being too nice,” I complain to him, much to his amusement. “I wanted to hate you on the sole principle that Xaden made you shadow me, but you fixed things and talked to me and laughed. Ugh!” Liam tries not to laugh but his smirk tells me everything I need to know. 

“So you’ve told me for the last week.” He shoots me a grin, revealing a dimple.

“And yet you’re still here. Every day. All day.” It’s not that I don’t like him. To my absolute annoyance, he’s actually…nice. Courteous, funny, and ridiculously helpful. 

Liam looks entirely too smug as he translates my thoughts about him. Ugh. 

That is why you should not compliment other people, Silver One. Keep your thoughts to yourself. I don’t bother telling Tairn that these, indeed, were thoughts meant to be kept to myself. 

He makes it difficult to loathe his constant presence, even though he leaves wood shavings in little piles everywhere he goes—which is everywhere I go now. The guy is constantly whittling with that smaller knife of his. Yesterday he finished the figurine of a bear.

“Until otherwise ordered,” he says. 

“Good boy,” I say and Ridoc cracks up at that. Liam's smile turns wicked, he salutes me, and shakes his head affectionately. 

I shake my head at him as Pierson jolts upright at the Archives doors, straightening his cream tunic. “Good morning, Cadet Pierson.”

“You as well, Cadet Sorrengail.” He offers me a polite smile, which dies as he glances at Liam. “Cadet Mairi.”

“Cadet Pierson,” Liam responds, as if the scribe’s tone hadn’t completely changed. 

I see Fen’s jaw tick as he reads how the children of his friends and family are treated. It doesn’t really get better anytime soon. 

My shoulders tense as Pierson hurries to open the door. Maybe it’s just that I haven’t been around marked ones before Basgiath, but the outright hostility toward them is becoming glaringly, uncomfortably obvious to me. 

“It's because the dickheads were being very obvious,” Ridoc comments. Liam tries to hold back a smile. 

“Yeah Little Sorrengail. The other cadets and riders at Basgiath were being obvious on purpose and it didn't get much better after graduation.” I look at Xaden when Garrick speaks. Xaden did get a room all to himself because no one wanted to be with him while Garrick shared with other riders. “It doesn’t matter that we graduated from the same college as them, or dragons bonded with us the same, or that we developed signets too. They didn’t trust us being the first marked ones to graduate at our posts. I doubt it will change anytime soon too.” Well once the venin become much more involved in our lives, the other riders don’t make it a big deal to work with the marked ones as much.   

We walk into the Archives and wait by the table just like every other morning. 

“How do you do that?” I ask Liam in a hushed whisper. “Handle when people are that rude without reacting?”

“You’re rude to me all the time,” he teases, drumming his fingers on the handle of the cart. 

“Asshole,” I scoff loud enough for Liam to hear, but not loud enough to interrupt Fen reading. I watch Liam as he translates what I told him to Jesinia. Jesinia flashes her eyes at me and I can see the mirth in them. 

“Because you’re my babysitter, not because…” I can’t even say it.

“Because I’m the son of the disgraced Colonel Mairi?” His jaw ticks, his brow furrowing for a heartbeat as he looks away.

Fen's grip on the book turns his knuckles white. It must have been hard for Liam to say those words about his father, and now he has to hear it again. Liam shifts uncomfortably when he sees multiple eyes on him as Fen reads. Liam focuses on his signing more than he actually needs to. 

I nod, my stomach sinking as I think back over the last few months. “I guess I’m really no better, though. I hated Xaden on sight, and I didn’t know a single thing about him.” Not that I do now, either. He’s infuriatingly good at being completely inaccessible. 

Fen frowns as he reads my confession. 

“To be fair,” Xaden defends, seeing the look his father had but doesn't draw attention to it. “I didn't like you because you were a Sorrengail. I'd say it was mutual.” I see Garrick look at Xaden when he defends me. It’s not a smirk or crazy, teasing grin on Garrick’s face, but a soft look at seeing how Xaden has changed from the closed off guy Garrick knew him to be. Xaden didn’t seem like the type to defend someone who wasn’t a marked one in the beginning and here he is. 

Liam scoffs, earning us a glare from a scribe near the back corner. “He has that effect on people, especially women. They either despise him for what his father did or want to fuck him for the same reason, just depends on where we are.” 

Fen lets out a surprised laugh along with Garrick and Bodhi. Liam looks sheepish when he looks at Xaden, who is glaring at him. 

“Oops?” Liam rubs the back of his head with a hand. 

“Where you are?” Rhi catches that. “Where are the girls who want to fuck Riorson because of his name?” I definitely think of Cat, and I’m sure there are other fliers who wanted to have sex with Xaden too. I actually don’t want to think about that. 

“Oh you know, just those riders who want to be a rebel and think it would be fun to sleep with the enemy,” Garrick casually says. He puts emphasis on riders, stupid, and I know he includes the fliers in that sentence as well. 

If anyone picks up on the truth before it’s revealed, I’m blaming Garrick, I give Xaden a warning. 

Don’t worry, I blame Garrick for most things too. 

Rhi opens her mouth to ask another question I’m sure, but Fen speaks louder. 

“You actually know him, don’t you?” I crane my neck to look up at him.

‘Shorty,’ Liam mouths at me.

‘Fuck off,’ I mouth back. 

 “He didn’t just pick you to shadow me because you’re the best in our year.”

“Just now catching on, huh?” A grin flashes across his face. “I would have told you that on the first day if you hadn’t been so busy huffing and puffing about the pleasure of my company.” 

“The huffing and puffing mainly had to do with Xaden, Liam.” 

“I knew that, who wouldn't want to be in my company?” I roll my eyes at Liam and don't respond. 

I roll my eyes as Jesinia approaches, her hood up over her hair. “Hey, Jesinia,” I sign.

“Good morning,” she signs back, her mouth curving in a shy smile as her gaze darts up to Liam.

“Good morning.” He signs with a wink, clearly flirting. 

Liam gives Jesinia the same wink, and her cheeks turn pink. And it's not like she can look away either, Liam is her translator for this chapter. My eyes cast over to Sawyer, who has a frown on his brows. I look back towards Liam and shake my head at him when he catches my eye. We’ve talked about this before. Actually it’s about to come up now. 

It shocked me to my toes that first day that he knew how to sign, but honestly, I’d been a little judgy just because I didn’t want a shadow. 

I wouldn't have been so judgy if I got to know Liam had he not been my shadow first. 

“Just these today?” Jesinia asks, inspecting the cart.

“And these.” I reach for the list of requests amid their obvious glances and hand it to her. 

I know they can feel eyes drilling into them from different directions, their cheeks turn light pink simultaneously. 

“Perfect.” Her cheeks flush and she studies the list before putting it in her pocket. “Oh, and Professor Markham left before his daily report arrived to teach your briefing. Would you mind taking it over?”

“Happy to.” I wait until she’s pushing the cart away from us, then smack Liam’s chest. “Stop it,” I whisper out loud. 

This might be a little awkward. 

“Stop what?” He watches her until she turns the corner at the first set of shelves. 

Jesinia's cheeks turn red now and I see Liam's start to deepen as well. Ridoc nudges me and I turn. He waggles his eyebrows and smiles at the situation. I know it’s fun to tease, but I still want Sawyer and Jesinia to get close like in the original timeline. Can things that happen here change the future? I jot that down. 

“Flirting with Jesinia. She’s a long-term-relationship woman, so unless that’s what you’re looking for…just…don’t.” 

Jesinia's eyes cut to me briefly, before focusing on Liam's hands again. I hope that was a look of thanks from her. She's my friend, of course I'd make sure a guy is gonna treat her right. And I know Sawyer definitely will. It’s nothing against Liam, but I think he’s known for so long that he will be judged for his name and his relic that he hadn’t ever thought to plan ahead other than surviving and making sure his sister lives as well. And why plan for the long term when your world can fall apart quickly and instantly like his had? My heart hurts for Liam because he never got the change to plan for a future he deserved. 

His eyebrows hit his hairline. “How does anyone think long-term around here?”

“Not everyone is in a quadrant where death is less of a chance and more of a foregone conclusion.” I breathe in the scent of the Archives and try to absorb a little of the peace it brings.

“So you’re saying that some people still try to make cute little things like plans.” 

“And all my plans ceased when I walked the parapet.” I can't be too upset at that because that walk led me to my squad who are more like family, led me to my two dragons, and led me to Xaden. 

“That’s why you don’t make plans,” Garrick jumps in. “Shit can change whenever and when you have no plan, it’s easier to go with the flow,” his eyes linger on Imogen for a second too long before moving away. 

“Exactly, and those some people is Jesinia. Trust me, I’ve known her for years.”

“Right. Because you wanted to be a scribe when you grew up.” He scans the Archives with an intensity that almost makes me laugh. As if there’s any chance someone is going to lunge out of the shelves and come after me. 

I laugh and get some curious looks. That's so ironic considering venin are hiding amongst the scribes after the Battle at Basgiath. I shake my head, they wouldn't understand it yet. Though I do share my thoughts with Xaden. I can feel his amusement. 

“How did you know that?” I lower my voice as a group of second-years passes, their expressions somber as they debate the merits of two different historians.

“I did my research on you after I was…you know…assigned.” He shakes his head. 

“Also, it wasn't a secret to anyone,” Liam shrugs. He's right. 

“I’ve seen you practicing this week with those blades of yours, Sorrengail. Riorson was right. You would have been wasted as a scribe.” 

And my only responsibilities would be to my mate and Andarna. Tairn sighs, as if mournful of what could've been. So dramatic. 

And you wouldn’t have the lightning wielder as your rider. I know he is very proud that I have the strongest signet of my generation. 

My chest swells with more than a little pride. “That remains to be seen.” At least challenges haven’t resumed. Guess enough of us are dying during flight lessons to hold off on killing more through hand-to-hand. “What did you want to be when you grew up?” I ask, just to keep the conversation going.

“Alive.” He shrugs. 

Snorts come from the other marked ones at Liam's smart remark. Liam gives me a sheepish smile that I roll my eyes to. I could never stay mad at Liam. 

Well, that’s…something.

“How do you know Xaden anyway?” I’m not foolish enough to think that everyone in the province of Tyrrendor knows one another. 

“Riorson and I were fostered at the same estate after the apostasy,” he says, using the Tyrrish term for the rebellion, which I haven’t heard in ages. 

Maybe Fen shouldn't have read this chapter. 

“What about Bodhi, or Sloane? Did Navarre not keep families together?" Fen looks at Lilith when he asks those questions. I guess when Xaden told his dad they were fosters, he didn’t say they were all separated. 

“No, they didn't. I was lucky to end up with Liam,” Xaden answers through his teeth. 

“You were fostered?” My mouth drops open. Fostering the children of aristocrats was a custom that died out after the unification of Navarre more than six hundred years ago. 

Fen takes a moment, a breath. 

“I had no idea,” I watch Jesinia sign to Liam, who doesn't translate out loud. “They didn't teach us that. Why wouldn't they?” 

“Because,” Liam signs quickly before Fen starts reading. “Why would Narvarre admit to the wrongdoings they've done?” Jesinia doesn't get a chance to say anything as Liam starts translating again.  Jesinia starts writing without looking away from Liam’s hands. 

“Well, yeah.” He shrugs again. “Where did you think the kids of the traitors”—he flinches at the word—“went after they executed our parents?”

I look out over the sprawling shelves of texts, wondering if one of them holds the answer. “I didn’t think.” My throat catches on that last word. 

It's hard to hear how ignorant I was as a scribe and as a new rider, how much I trusted Navarre and Markham without ever questioning anything. 

“Most of our great houses were given to nobles who had remained loyal.” He clears his throat. “As it should be.”

I don’t bother agreeing with what’s obviously a conditioned reply. King Tauri’s response after the rebellion was swift, even cruel, but I was a fifteen-year-old girl too lost in her own grief to think mercifully on the people who’d caused my brother’s death. 

Brennan looks at me with sad eyes.

“My big brother died. Nothing could make me forget about it. I’m not saying that ignoring what else was going on was good, but I was too wrapped up in my own grief to fully understand the aftermath of the situation and only knew what I was later taught.”

The burning of Aretia, which had been Tyrrendor’s capital, to the ground had never sat well with me, though. 

And I’m so glad that you’ve rebuilt it Xaden.

Me too. 

Liam was the same age. It wasn’t his fault his mother had broken faith with Navarre. “But you didn’t go with your father to his new home?” 

I glance down at the hands in my lap; I memorized everyone who died and hate the fact that I didn’t know what happened to the kids after. They were children and didn’t deserve to be treated the way they were and are. 

“Damn Sorrengail,” Imogen frowns. “That’s kind of rude to throw in his face, don’t ‘cha think?”

“That’s not…” I shake my head. Fen keeps reading, though his voice is getting more and more strained. 

His gaze swings toward mine, and his brow furrows. “It’s hard to live with a man who was executed on the same day as my mother.”

I glance at Liam, who looks like he’d rather be running up the Gauntlet again than hear this conversation for a second time. 

My stomach sinks. “No. No, that’s not right. Your father was Isaac Mairi, right? I’ve studied all the noble houses in every province, including Tyrrendor.” Had I gotten something wrong?

“Yes. Isaac was my father.” He tilts his head, looking toward the area where Jesinia disappeared, and I get the distinct feeling he is over this conversation. 

“I was,” Liam gives me a half smile, but it doesn’t stay on long. 

“But he wasn’t a part of the rebellion.” I shake my head, trying to make sense of it. “He isn’t on the death roll of the executions from Calldyr.” 

“You read and memorized the death roll of the executions?” Fen’s eyebrows jump up, surprised that a Sorrengail would do that. I cringe; it’s not for the noble reason he may assume. Xaden raises one beautiful brow as well in my direction. 

“You read the death roll from the Calldyr executions?” His eyes flare.

It takes all my courage, but I hold his stare. “I needed to see that someone was on it.”

He draws back slightly. “Fen Riorson.” 

Make my end quick, Tairn, please. 

Xaden looks shocked briefly, but then looks understanding? I hate that he understands why I would want to do that when my brother is alive and his father isn’t. I glance at Fen. Or wasn’t? Because he would technically still be dead in the real timeline. 

Now why would I do that Silver One? Why would I ever think Tairn would be merciful? That’s on me. Yes, that is your mistake. Great. 

I appreciate you being honest, Violence. That you weren’t lying like Navarre. You owned up to what you did whether it was right or wrong. And you learned and grew from it. 

I nod. “He killed my brother at the Battle of Aretia.” 

I know my eyes aren’t the only one who bounce between the reader and my brother, who shifts very uneasily. 

My mind scrambles, trying to harmonize what I’ve read and what he’s saying. “But your father wasn’t on that roll.” But Liam was—as a witness. Mortification sweeps over me. What the hell am I doing? “I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have asked.” 

“Maybe you shouldn’t have asked,” Liam looks into my soul. “But you asking means at least someone, other than the rebellion kids, hasn’t forgotten or swept the worst day of my life under the rug. It meant that you were questioning what you’ve been taught and what’s being recorded. And that’s all I can ask, for you to keep digging into what you know and look for the truth. Because that’s worse; no one knowing the real reason why my parents died and just assuming they deserved it.” I swallow hard at Liam’s words, keeping the tears from sliding down my waterline. I wipe a sleeve under my eyes to catch the water before evidence is left behind, but I know he sees the one that escaped. 

“I will always remember, even if everyone else in the world never looks or doesn’t care, even after your,” I pause, it’s hard for me to say it out loud, “death, I will find and remember the whole truth. And I won’t let anyone else forget it,” I vow. 

Liam smiles a real smile at me. “I know you will Vi, you’re that stubborn.” I let out a watery chuckle and return his soft smile. 

“He was executed at our family’s house.” His features tighten. “Before it was given to another noble, of course. And yes, I watched as they did it that time, too. I already had the rebellion relic by then, but the pain was the same.” He looks away, his throat working. 

“Narvarre is truly evil for that, for making those kids watch as their parents die and removing them from their homes. Your parents probably knew what they were getting into and knew the risks. The kids didn’t, and they were punished for it anyway,” Ridoc shakes his head. “I have never been more ashamed to be in Navarre than I am now.” 

“Then I was sent to Tirvainne to be fostered by Duke Lindell, the same as Riorson. My little sister was sent elsewhere.” 

“I know you told me you guys were fostered after everything, and it’s been mentioned here or there since,” Fen grips the book like a life line. “But I can’t fathom why Navarre separated children from their only living relatives other than control and because they could. I didn’t think Navarre could surprise me by their actions but I stand fucking corrected,” Fen pierces my mother with his cutting eyes, accusing her for it all. Fen doesn’t give her a chance to respond as he shifts his gaze back to Liam. “Wait, that means that you didn’t get to see Sloane before…”

“No,” Liam shakes his head sadly. “I didn’t get to see her before I died.” There’s an angry undertone to Fen’s voice as he tries to rush through the chapter. 

“They separated you?” My jaw practically unhinges. Neither fostering nor separating siblings is mentioned in any text I’ve read about the rebellion, and I’ve read a ton. 

There are head shakes around the group, realizing how far Navarre has gone to cover up the monster they are. My mother gets her fair share of glances too, but her eyes are glazed over, speaking to Aimsir. 

He nods. “She’s only a year younger than me, though, so I’ll get to see her when she enters the quadrant next year. She’s strong, quick, and has good balance. She’ll make it.” The edge of panic in his tone reminds me of Mira. 

“It’s the, ‘older sibling is worried,’ tone,” Mira claims. Liam nods his head in agreement.

“She could always choose another quadrant,” I say softly, hoping it will soothe him. 

“No, we couldn’t,” Garrick says even if we all know that now, no bite in his tone. He just sounds resigned. This must be hard for all the marked ones to hear, bringing up memories of their own experiences and families. 

He blinks at me. “We’re all riders.”

“What?”

“We’re all riders. It was part of the deal. We’re allowed to live, allowed a chance to prove our loyalty, but only if we make it through the Riders Quadrant.” He stares at me in bewilderment. “You don’t know?” 

“I mean…” I shake my head. “I know that the children of the leaders, the officers, were all forced into conscription, but that’s all. A lot of those treaty addenda are classified.” 

“And that’s when I decided to truly try to be your friend, Vi,” Liam tells me. I tilt my head in question. “You didn’t know the truth, which was surprising being The General’s daughter, and I couldn’t blame you for going off what you knew. You still didn’t talk down to us, you weren’t rude or judgmental even when you didn’t know the full truth of the circumstances. It spoke about your character and I knew you were going to be one of my friends. A lot of people would be too scared to ask those questions and yeah it was invasive but it showed you actually cared about the answer.” 

“I personally think the quadrant was chosen to give us the best chance of rising in rank, but others…” He grimaces. 

And now we all know that it really does give them the best chance even if Navarre thinks the opposite. 

“Others think it’s because the death rate is so much higher for riders, so they were hoping to kill us all off without having to do it themselves. I’ve heard Imogen say they originally figured the dragons have unimpeachable honor, so they’d never bond a marked one in the first place, and now they don’t quite know what to do with us.” 

“Narvarre is wrong about a lot, if they wanted to kill us, they should’ve done it themselves,” Imogen states. 

“Navarre’s biggest mistake, thinking they know everything,” the smirk on Xaden’s face should worry Navarre. My mother stays silent, knowing she doesn’t get a say in this matter right now. 

“How many of you are there?” I think of my mother and can’t help but wonder how much of it she knows, how much of it she agreed to when she became the commanding general of Basgiath after Brennan’s death. 

Everything, she knows everything. Maybe it didn’t start until after Bren died but she knows now. 

“Xaden’s never?” He pauses. 

I snort, cutting off Fen. “At this point, why would Xaden ever tell me anything? We’re frenemies right now.” Garrick and Liam chuckle at the word I use and Xaden rolls his eyes. 

I can always say enemies to lovers but that sounds a little cliche, Xaden. 

Gods, please don’t use that term. 

“Sixty-eight of the officers had kids under the age of twenty. There are one hundred and seven of us, all who carry rebellion relics.” 

“The oldest is Xaden,” I murmur. 

He nods. “And the youngest is almost six now. Her name is Julianne.”

I think I’m going to be sick. “Is she marked?”

“She was born with it.” 

I understand it was done by dragon, but what the fucking hell? 

“Fuck, that’s…” Sawyer trails off. There are no words to describe the unfortunate circumstance of the youngest marked one. Born into a life of judgment and hate already. 

“Shitty?” Bodhi asks rhetorically, “yeah.” 

“And it’s all right that you ask. Someone should know. Someone should remember.” His shoulders rise and fall as he breathes deeply. 

He basically said the same thing not too long ago, I guess we both forgot he said it in the past. 

“You’re better than me Liam,” Imogen remarks. 

“Well that’s not hard,” Garrick quips and earns an elbow from Imogen as she continues. 

“I would’ve told her where she could shove her questions.” I roll my eyes. I know better than to ask Imogen for anything. She’s not that approachable. 

“Anyway, is it hard for you to be in here? Or is it more of a comfort thing?”

Subject change noted. 

I take in the rows of tables, slowly filling with scribes readying themselves for work, and imagine my father among them. “It’s like coming home, but not. And it’s not that it’s changed—this place never changes. Hell, I think change is the mortal enemy of a scribe. But I’m starting to realize that I’ve changed. I don’t quite fit here. Not anymore.” 

Hell, at this point, change is the mortal enemy of Navarre. 

You don’t belong there because you no longer are surrounding yourself with lies and deceit. You’re learning from experience and slowly finding out the truth, Violence.

“Yeah. I get that.” Something in his voice tells me he really does. 

“I do,” Liam confirms. 

It’s on the tip of my tongue to ask what the last five years were like for him, but Jesinia reappears, the cart laden with the requested tomes. 

“Fuck, what’s with all the questions?” Imogen complains. 

“I was raised as a scribe, what did you expect?” 

“I have everything here for you,” she signs, then gestures to the scroll on top. “And that is for Professor Markham.”

“We’ll make sure he gets it,” I promise, leaning forward to take the cart. My high collar shifts, and Jesinia gasps, her hand flying to cover her mouth. 

I peak over and see Jesinia turn red at how dramatic her reaction sounds and it makes me grin. 

“Oh gods, Violet. Your neck!” Her hand movements are sharp, and the sympathy in her eyes makes my chest tighten. “Sympathy” isn’t a word found in our quadrant. There’s rage, wrath, and indignation…but no sympathy. 

There is no time for sympathy against the enemy, it’ll just get you killed Silver One. Or almost killed until Andarna gifts you something that saves your life. I’ll never live down letting Oren live just for him to almost succeed in killing me after. 

“It’s nothing.” I put my collar back in place, covering the ring of yellowing bruises, and Liam reaches across me, taking the cart. “We’ll see you tomorrow.”

She bobs her head and wrings her hands as we turn for the door. Pierson closes it after we pass into the hallway.

“Riorson taught me to fight during the years he was at Tirvainne.” Liam’s change of subject is appreciated and no doubt intentional once again. 

“No one is forcing you guys to have these conversations,” Bodhi jokes. “You guys just know the right, wrong questions to ask.”

“I’ve never seen anyone move the way he does. He’s the only reason I made it through the first round of challenges. He might not show it, but he takes care of his own.” 

Xaden’s face doesn’t change at the compliment, and only knowing him the way I do lets me know he is trying very hard not to react to what Liam said in the book. 

“Are you trying to sell me on his finer points?” We make the ascent, and I note with some satisfaction that my legs feel strong today. I love the days when my body cooperates. 

“Go body,” Ridoc quietly cheers and my lips quirk. 

“You are slightly stuck with him for…” He makes a face. “Well, forever.” 

Forever. I will make sure that happens and that he doesn’t get the chance to fully give in to the venin side of him. 

“Or until one of us dies,” I joke, but it falls flat as we round the corner and take the path past the Healer Quadrant. “How can you do this anyway? Guard someone whose own mother oversaw the wing that captured yours?” I’ve wanted to ask the question all week. 

“Wondering if you can trust me?” He flashes another easy grin.

“Yes.” The answer is simple. 

Chuckles interrupt the chapter, a good relief from the heavy conversation the book was in. Glad they found it funny rather than insulting. 

He laughs, the sound echoing off the tunnel walls and glass windows of the clinic. “Good answer. All I can say is that your survival is essential to Riorson’s, and I owe him everything. Everything.” He looks me straight in the eye for that last word, even as the cart hits a raised stone in the paved corridor. 

“Did you know that’s what Liam thought when you asked him to shadow Violet?” Brennan sounds genuinely curious, hinting that maybe Xaden used that to get Liam to do this favor.  

“I knew he thought he owed me but he really didn’t owe me anything. I knew Liam would be able to be the most friendly with Violet over the other first year marked ones. That’s why I asked him. Besides what everyone may think, I did give Liam the choice. He agreed.” 

The scroll on top tumbles to the floor, and I wince at the dull ache in my ribs as I hurry to retrieve it and it unrolls along the slight slope of the passage.

“Got it.” The thick parchment isn’t eager to roll back into place, and I catch a sentence that makes me pause.

The conditions at Sumerton are of particular concern. A village was ransacked and a supply convoy looted last night— 

“What does it say?” Liam asks. 

Garrick laughs. “You guys are so nosy! Asking each other way too personal questions for only knowing one another for a week, and now looking at missives that aren’t yours,” he tsks playfully. Liam and I really were not minding our own business. 

“Sumerton was attacked.” I flip the scroll to see if it’s marked as classified, but it isn’t. 

Liam and I make eye contact; it’s confirmed. The missive wasn’t classified and Markham still didn’t tell us. 

“On the southern border?” He looks as confused as I feel.

“Yeah.” I nod. “It’s another high-altitude attack, too, if I remember my geography correctly. It says a supply convoy was looted.” I read a little further. “And the community storage in nearby caves was ransacked. But that doesn’t make sense. We have a trade agreement with Poromiel.” 

Fliers went looking for more weapons and Navarre knew they were looking for help with the venin. Markham didn’t want that information out because the attacks were increasing and it would raise suspicions of what really was happening since Navarre does have a trade agreement already. Xaden supplies. He kept quite a few attacks out of Battle Brief. 

“A raiding party, then.”

I shrug. “No clue. Guess we’ll hear about it in Battle Brief today.” 

Or not. 

Attacks along our southern borders are rising, all with the same description. Mountain villages are being torn apart wherever the wards weaken.

Immense, incredible hunger strikes, my stomach gnawing on emptiness that demands to be appeased with the blood of— 

It was not that dramatic. Tairn sounds offended at that description.

Trust me, it was. 

“Sorrengail?” Liam looks over at me, concern etched between his brows.

“Tairn’s awake,” I manage to say, clutching my stomach like I’m the one who craves a flock of sheep. Or goats. Or whatever he decides for the morning. “Good gods, please go eat something.”

“The same could be suggested to you,” he snarls. 

“Not a morning dragon then?” Ridoc talks out the side of his mouth, leaning in as he whispers. A growl vibrates from outside.

“You whispering doesn’t mean Tairn won’t hear you,” I tap the side of my head with a giggle. 

“Such a morning person, aren’t you?” The hunger dissipates, and I know it’s because he’s dampening the bond in that moment because I can’t. His emotions only flow into me when they override his control. “Thank you. Andarna?”

“Still sleeping. She’ll be out another few days after using that much power.” 

I was just sleeping, there was no need to worry. Andarna sounds offended that I even asked how she was. 

I’m always going to worry about you Andarna. That’s just how it is. 

Are you worried about Tairn?

Yes. Not in the same way, but I will always worry about my dragons. Andarna doesn’t have a response to that and Tairn doesn’t give his opinion on my worry for him. 

“Does it ever get any easier?” I ask Liam. “Being tackled by what they’re feeling?”

He winces. “Good question. Deigh keeps pretty good control of himself, but when he’s angry?” Liam shakes his head. “It’s supposed to help once they start channeling and we have the power to shield them out, but you know Carr isn’t going to bother with us until that happens.” 

“And why would you ask Liam, who has been bonded for the same amount of time as you have and hasn’t channeled yet either?” Brennan makes a great point but I refuse to let him know that. 

“I think that’s stupid,” Sawyer interjects. “Why not show up how to shield as soon as possible so it is easier when we do channel?”

“Because Carr likes to think he’s much more important than he really is and wants to control even the small things. It makes him feel more important that riders only come to him when they channel.” There is no lost love between Brennan and Carr. Felix feels the same type of way and honestly, Carr sucks. 

I’d already assumed Liam didn’t have his abilities yet, considering he’s with me in every single class, but it’s comforting to know he’s still in the waning population of powerless riders with me. 

Liam rolls his eyes at that. 

While Andarna has given me her gift for stopping time, I’m pretty sure using it isn’t going to be a regular occurrence, especially if it takes her days to recover.

“So Tairn hasn’t channeled to you, either, right?” Liam asks, a look of uncertainty, vulnerability on his face.

I shake my head. “I think he has commitment issues,” I whisper. 

A roar of laughter follows the words out of Fen’s mouth. The growl doesn’t stop it this time either. 

“I heard that.”

“Then stay out of my head.”

Another wave of paralyzing hunger assaults me, and I nearly crush Markham’s scroll in my hand. “Don’t be an ass.”

I swear I hear him chuff a chuckle in response. 

And another chuff is directed at me from outside. 

“We’d better hurry or we’ll miss breakfast.”

“Right.” I finish rolling the scroll and put it back on the cart.

“Breakfast is an important part of the day,” Garrick declares, patting his flat stomach. 

“I want to be like the cool kids,” Rhiannon grumbles as first-years from Second and Third Wings pour out of the stairwell of the turret that leads up to Professor Carr’s classroom that afternoon, further clogging the hallway on our way to Battle Brief.

“We will,” I promise, linking my arm through hers. Have to admit, there’s more than a little twinge of jealousy in my chest. 

“You may be cool, but you will never be as cool as I am!” Ridoc pushes past Liam and throws his arm over my shoulder. 

Ridoc spins an ice cube in his hand as if to prove we’ll never be as cool as him. 

“She’s talking about everyone who’s already channeling,” I explain, juggling my books so I don’t drop them. “Though at least if we’re not channeling, we’re not stressed about manifesting a signet before the magic kills us.” The relic in the center of my back tingles, and I can’t help but wonder if Andarna’s gift has triggered that clock for me. 

“Did it?” Sawyer asks. 

“I’m not entirely sure. Obviously nothing has happened to me; I haven’t exploded. But maybe her gifting me that magic replaced the clock you get from channeling.” 

“Oh, I thought we were discussing how I just owned that physics test.” He grins. “Definitely the highest score in the class.”

Rhiannon rolls her eyes. “Please. I scored five points higher than you.” 

“There was no way you were beating Rhi at physics,” I scoff. 

“We stopped counting your grades months ago.” He leans forward slightly. “Your grades in that class make it unfair for the rest of us.” He looks between our shoulders. “Wait. What did you get, Mairi?”

“Not getting into the middle of this,” Liam responds. 

“Wimp,” Garrick snorts at the same time that Bodhi says, “Good choice.”

I laugh as we break apart, entering the bottleneck of cadets to get into the briefing room.

“Sorry, Sorrengail,” someone says, stepping out of the way and tugging their friend with them as we enter the tiered classroom.

“Nothing to be sorry about!” I call out, but they’re already headed up a few rows. “I’m never going to get used to that.” 

“Embrace it sister,” Brennan leans back against the couch, crossing his hands behind his head, and resting his right ankle over his left knee. “You’re living life, Brennan style. Most people never experience it. Enjoy it while it lasts.” Mira and I laugh the loudest, smartass. 

“It definitely makes getting places easier,” Rhiannon teases as we descend the steps that curve along the massive turret.

“They show the appropriate level of deference,” Tairn grumbles.

Of course that’s what he thinks. Xaden says. 

“To what they think I’ll be, not who I am.” We find our row and walk to our seats, sitting as a squad among the first-years.

“That shows excellent forethought.” 

It just means they want to be in the good graces of someone they assumed would have great power. They don’t care for the person, but for the potential. 

Better than pushing you around and not caring for you at all, is it not, Silver One? Sometimes being unnoticeable really helps. 

The room buzzes with energy as riders file in, and I can’t help but notice that no one has to stand anymore. Our numbers have decreased exponentially in the last four months. The number of empty chairs is sobering. We lost another first-year yesterday when he got too close to another rider’s Red Scorpiontail on the flight field. One second he was standing there, and the next he was a scorched patch of earth. I kept as close to Tairn as possible the rest of the session. 

Like any dragon would forfeit their lives for attempting to burn my rider. 

My scalp prickles, but I fight the urge to turn around.

“Riorson just got here,” Liam says from the seat to my right, breaking from the little dragon figurine he’s carving and looking up the rows toward the third-years.

“Figured.” I hold up my middle finger and keep my eyes forward. Not that I don’t like Liam, but I’m still pissed at Xaden for assigning him. 

Garrick, Bodhi, and Liam laugh, Imogen just smirks, though it’s Garrick who speaks. “He did not appreciate that gesture. I, however, thought it was hilarious.”

“Of course you did,” Xaden grunts. 

Liam snorts and grins, flashing his dimple. “And now he’s glaring. Tell me, is it fun pissing off the most powerful rider in the quadrant?” 

“Yes.” I declare, much to Xaden’s displeasure and my delight. Garrick beams at my answer. 

“You could try it yourself and find out,” I suggest, opening my notebook to the next empty page. I can’t turn around. I won’t. Wanting Xaden is fine. It has to be. Indulging the impulses it gives me? That’s asinine. 

It’s fine when I can see what your intentions for me really were. That’s unfair. 

“That’s going to be a no from me.” 

“Good, because then I’d have to kick your ass, Mairi,” Xaden says. 

I lose the battle with my self-control and look over my shoulder. Sure enough, Xaden is seated in the top row next to Garrick, mastering the art of looking bored. He gives Liam a nod, which Liam returns.

I roll my eyes and face forward again. 

And his shadows definitely were relaying everything we said. 

Liam concentrates on his carving, which looks a lot like his Red Daggertail, Deigh.

“I swear, you’d think there were assassination attempts on me during every class with the way he makes you shadow me.” I shake my head.

“In his defense, people are fond of trying to kill you.” Rhiannon sets out her supplies. 

“Fuck, it really doesn’t get better,” Brennan moans, remembering the venin Tecarus thought he should surprise us with. 

“One time! It’s happened one time, Rhi!” I adjust my posture to keep my weight off my bruised ribs. They’re wrapped tight, but leaning against the back of my seat isn’t an option.

“Right. And what would you call that whole thing with Tynan?” Rhiannon asks.

“Threshing.” I shrug. 

Imogen snorts. 

“And Barlowe’s constant threats?” She arches a brow at me.

“She has a point there,” Sawyer chimes in, leaning forward from the seat next to Rhiannon’s. 

“And Immy’s attempt during assessment. Don’t forget that.” Trust me Garrick, I won’t. 

“They’re just threats. The only time I’ve actually been targeted was at night, and it’s not like Liam here is sleeping in my bedroom.” 

“That honestly might be the worst one,” Bodhi says. 

“I mean, I’m not opposed—” he begins, his knife hovering over the piece of wood.

“Don’t even start.” I whip my head to face him and can’t help but laugh. “You are a shameless flirt.” 

I would have thought Liam would be laughing at the reminder of this conversation and when I look over, a shadow has one of Liam’s own dagger poised at his throat. Jesinia’s eyes are wide, terror edging on her face. Liam hasn’t stopped signing though, what a real trooper. 

You’re scaring Jesinia, stop it. The dagger lowers, and Liam takes a deep breath. A shadow wraps around his throat in warning and stays there.

That’s the best I can do, Violence. I sigh heavily. 

“Thank you.” He grins and goes back to carving.

“It wasn’t a compliment.” 

“Don’t mind her, she’s just sexually frustrated. Makes a girl crabby.” Rhiannon writes the date down on her empty page and I follow suit, dipping my quill into my portable inkpot. 

“I still can’t believe you said that. And now I have to hear it again?” I groan, much to Rhi’s and the others' amusement. Brennan can’t look me in the eye. 

Those easy, mess-less pens some of the others can already use is just another reason I can’t wait to channel. No more quills. No more inkpots. 

I stroke the pen in my hand lovingly. Ridoc catches what I’m doing. 

“Your priorities need adjusting,” Ridoc sighs. 

“That has nothing to do with it.” Gods, could she have said that a little louder? 

“Wouldn’t matter because now we all know what I said,” Rhi grins with all her teeth. 

“And yet I don’t hear you denying it.” She smiles sweetly at me.

“I’m sorry I don’t make the cut,” Liam teases. 

Maybe in a different life, where Xaden didn’t consume my every thought. Ridoc has other thoughts, leaning over to whisper, “he would make my cut.” I elbow him in the stomach. 

“But I’m sure Riorson would be fine with my reviewing a couple candidates, especially if it means you’ll stop flipping him off in front of his entire wing.” 

Trust me, that would have made it worse. Much worse. 

Besides, I decide to tease. It wouldn’t have made a difference. I still would have flipped you off. 

Oh, I know.

“And how exactly would you be reviewing candidates? What will you be scoring?” Rhiannon asks, one eyebrow raised above her wide grin. “This I have to hear.”

I manage a straight face for all of two seconds before laughing at how horrified he suddenly looks. “Thanks for the offer, though. I’ll make sure to run any potential liaisons by you.” 

“No, but how would you score, Liam?” Bodhi’s face is going to split by how wide his smile is. 

“Tell us,” Garrick adds on, a fist propping his chin up on the arm of the couch. “A scale on how handsome they are? How tall? Should you find her a great kisser?” Garrick and Bodhi burst out laughing as Liam’s face reddens, silently begging Fen to keep reading. 

“You can always take them for a test run, make sure Sorrengail only gets the best,” Garrick and Bodhi absolutely lose it at Imogen’s additional teasing. 

“Please, please read,” Liam not so silently begs Fen. 

“I mean, you could watch,” Rhiannon continues, blinking innocently at him. “Just to be sure she’s fully covered. You know, so no one…sticks it to her.” 

Liam covers his face with his hands, and my own face is getting warm now, but I can’t keep the grin off my face. I think it’s worse because he has to translate it all for Jesinia, who is blushing at the situation. 

Until Ridoc opens his big mouth, “well, now’s your chance! I’m sure Riorson and Vi would let—” my eyes widen in horror, a perfect match to Liam’s own at Ridoc’s words. Someone chokes, someone coughs, and someone laughs so hard they can’t breathe. A shadow flips Ridoc over the back of the couch at his suggestion. Our friends laugh at Ridoc’s predicament. 

“Over my fucking body,” Xaden isn’t laughing, but that makes his friends laugh more, this time Imogen joining in. 

“Thanks for that image, Mr. Gamlyn,” Fen’s face twists in a similar fashion to my mother’s and Brennan's. 

“Oh, are we telling dick jokes now?” Ridoc asks from Liam’s side. “Because my entire life has led up to this very moment.” 

“Why is that not surprising,” Garrick drawls. 

Even Sawyer laughs.

“Fuck me,” Liam mutters under his breath. 

“Not literally!” Liam shouts, making sure to stop any jokes before they start. 

“I’m just saying that since you’re protected at night now—” We laugh harder, and he blows out a deep breath.

“Wait.” I stop laughing. “What do you mean I’m protected at night? Because you’re next door?” My smile vanishes. “Please tell me he’s not making you sleep in the hallway or something obnoxious.” 

“You didn’t tell her?” Garrick accuses Xaden, who just crosses his arms, refusing to answer. 

“No. Of course not. He warded your door the morning after the attack.” His expression clearly says I should know this. “I’m guessing he didn’t tell you?”

“He what?” 

“Son,” Fen shakes his head, disapprovingly. “You should have told her.” Xaden’s jaw ticks. 

“He warded your door,” Liam says, quieter this time. “So only you can open it.” 

And thank the Gods that Varrish wasn’t able to enter my room or anyone else to burn my stuff when they thought I was dead. It allowed me to also keep Liam’s letters for Sloane. 

Shit. I don’t know how to feel about that. It’s more than slightly controlling, and way out of line, but also…sweet. 

Garrick groans, “no, it’s not sweet.”

“Definitely made for each other,” Bodhi smiles. 

“But if he’s the one who warded it, then he can get in, too, right?”

“Well, yeah.” Liam shrugs as Professors Markham and Devera walk down the stairs, heading for the front of the room. “But it’s not like Riorson is going to kill you.” 

No, but he had access to everything I had without the same in return. Double standard. 

“Right. You see, I’m still adjusting to that little change of heart.” I fumble my quill and it falls to the ground, but before I can lean over, the shadows beneath the arm of my desk lift the instrument like an offering. I pluck it out of the shadows and look back at Xaden.

He’s locked in conversation with Garrick, not paying me a speck of attention.

Except, apparently, he is.

“Awe, that’s actually really sweet,” Rhi notes, and I know Xaden wouldn’t dare threaten to choke out my best friend. He has no problem covering Garrick’s mouth before he speaks though. Liam has relaxed now that the shadows around him are gone. 

“If we can get started?” Markham calls over the room, and we fall silent as he places the scroll Liam and I had delivered to him before breakfast on the podium. “Excellent.”

I write Sumerton down at the top of the page and Liam trades his knife for a quill.

“First announcement,” Devera says, stepping forward. “We’ve decided that not only will the winners of this year’s Squad Battle receive bragging rights—” She grins like we’re in for a treat. “But they’ll also be given a trip to the front lines to shadow an active wing.”

Cheers break out all around us. 

Rhi and I share a look. I share another one with my sister. It was worth the trip.

“So if we win, we get a chance to die sooner?” Rhiannon whispers.

“Maybe they’re trying a reverse psychology thing.” I glance at the others around us who are clearly overjoyed and worry about their sanity. 

Anything to get people to die for Navarre, Xaden sends sarcastically. 

Then again, most everyone in this room can stay on their dragon. 

“So can you.”

“Don’t you have better things to do with your day than listen in on my self-loathing?”

“Not particularly. Now pay attention.” 

Ridoc leans over and I make sure my shields to my dragons are sealed tight. “I love sassy Tairn,” he whispers. 

“Me too,” I whisper back. 

“Stop butting in and maybe I can,” I counter.

Tairn chuffs. One day I might be able to translate that sound, but it’s not today. 

Sgaeyl is always butting in as well. Except she’s not as nice about it. Calling Tairn nice is a choice for sure. 

“I know the Squad Battle doesn’t commence until spring,” Devera continues, “but I figured that news would give you all the proper motivation to apply yourselves in every area leading up to the challenges.”

Another cheer resounds.

“And now that we have your attention.” Markham lifts his hand and the room quiets. “The front lines are relatively quiet today, so we’re going to take this opportunity to dissect the Battle of Gianfar.” 

“Damn, I wish he was here just so that you can shove it in his face that you two clearly knew he was lying,” Dain points to Liam and I. We look at him in surprise, because it’s, well, Dain. 

Dain rolls his eyes. “Clearly more is going on and something is being hidden. If I go to Aretia with you all then I must have seen some truth to the claims. Violet dislikes Markham now, so that must mean he’s part of the problem.” 

My quill hovers above my notebook. Surely he didn’t say that.

The mage lights rise to the Cliffs of Dralor that separate Tyrrendor, lifting the entire province thousands of feet above the rest of the Continent, before shining brightest on the ancient stronghold along the southern border. “This battle was pivotal to the unification of Navarre, and though it happened more than six centuries ago, there are important lessons that still impact our flight formations to this day.” 

Ridoc groans beside me and I kick him. I know he was going to complain about learning. 

“Is he serious?” I whisper to Liam.

“Yeah.” Liam’s grip bends his quill. “I think he is.”

“What made this battle unique?” Devera asks, her eyebrows raised. “Bryant?”

“The stronghold was not only set for a siege,” the second-year says from high above us, “but was equipped with the first cross-bolt, which proved lethal against dragonkind.”

“Yes. And?” Devera prompts. 

“And you guys just moved on?” Jesinia asks. I sign my own reply back.

“Yeah, we didn’t call him out on it, and no one else ever knew about it. Who are they going to believe, the Curator of the Scribes or two first-year riders?” 

“It was one of the final battles where gryphons and dragons actually worked alongside each other to annihilate the army of the Barrens,” the second-year continues. 

Which clearly didn’t work if the venin are still around today. So what really happened six centuries ago? Did riders and fliers alike just decide to claim the ‘army’ was defeated? 

I glance left and right, watching the other riders begin to take notes. Surreal. This is just…surreal. Even Rhiannon is writing intensely.

None of them knows what we do, that an entire village of Navarrians was ransacked last night along the border and supplies looted. And yet, we’re discussing a battle that happened before the convenience of indoor plumbing was invented. 

I wish we would have fully read the rest of that missive. 

“Now, pay close attention,” Markham lectures. “Because you’ll be turning in a detailed report in three days and drawing comparisons to battles from the last twenty years.”

“Was that scroll marked classified?” Liam asks under his breath.

“No,” I respond just as quietly. “But maybe I missed it?” The battle map doesn’t even show activity near that mountain range. 

No Violence, you would not have missed something like that. 

“Yeah.” He nods, scratching his quill against the parchment as he begins to take notes. “That has to be it. You missed it.” 

“I didn’t think you really did, but what else was there to say? We had no proof there actually was a report about Sumerton because we handed it over to Markham, who denied anything happened.” Liam says. 

I blink, forcing my hand through the motions of writing about a battle I’ve analyzed dozens of times with my father. Liam’s right. That’s the only possible explanation. Our clearance isn’t high enough, or maybe they haven’t finished gathering all the information needed to form an accurate report.

Or it had to have been marked classified. I just missed it. 

“If the missive was classified, they would not have given it to a scribe to just hand over to anybody. Even if it was you, Cadet Sorrengail,” my mother states. “And if it wasn’t classified, Markham should have brought it up during Battle Brief.” There is nothing more to say, Markham should have shared information with us but chose not to. We all know he is holding secrets. 

“Well, mother,” Mira speaks up. “I think it’s your turn to read.” I turn towards Jesinia and let her know I’ll be the one signing for this chapter. Fen stands up and hands the book over to Lilith, though he doesn’t let go right away and they get into a staring match, each with a hand on the book. Fen let’s go after a moment and they both sit down. My mother opens the next chapter and begins. 

Violet’s Journal: