Chapter Text
It’s Conscription Day. The day I’ve been training for my whole life. I have one objective; protect Violet.
Ever since the General made the decree that Violet would be joining the Rider’s Quadrant six months ago, she’s been training hard with Major Gillstead. And with me.
She’s taken it better than most would, since she was raised to be a Scribe like our dad. She’s worked her ass off - willingly and unwillingly - every day since she started. Most days consist of a run, hand-to-hand, and weapons training. And then, she spars with me until I say we’re done. I refuse to lose her along with Brennan and Dad. Our family has gone through enough loss. She’s made more progress than I ever would have imagined with my training. We’ll still need to work on it when we get to the Quadrant, but she should survive challenges at the very least.
Unlike Violet, I have been preparing my whole life to be a rider. Also unlike Violet - who stands at 5’2”, has weak joints and bones, and was always protected growing up - I am 5’6”, well-muscled, and was always the protector growing up, and will continue that role as we go to the Quadrant whether Violet hates it or loves it.
One thing we do have in common though is our hair. It starts out as a deep brunette, then fades to silver as it goes. This happened due to our mother being sick when she was pregnant with us. That sickness also led to Violet’s being more… breakable.
Right now, I’m climbing the stairs with Violet up to see our mother in her office before we go possibly die. Violet is wheezing next to me, due to our heavy packs that she still can’t carry for an extended period of time. I know she would be better off without the books I know she has in there, but I don’t think I can tell her to take them out since I know she just wants to remember our Dad today. Especially with how she was always his favorite, and how she was raised by him in the Archives to be in the Scribe Quadrant.
We make it to the top, and I hear a familiar voice. I break out into a sprint, Violet trying to keep up with me to get to our mother’s office.
Mira’s here.
Our older sister was always feisty. She’s the only person who could stand up to our mother and not only get away with it, but gain her respect for doing it. Whenever I tried, I was dismissed or not taken seriously. I was always “too young to understand”. It always pissed me the fuck off, but I couldn’t do anything about it either.
“She’s going to die out there!” Mira shouts. I’m too excited to see her to care that the words are obviously to defend Violet, and not me.
I burst through the door, my face breaking into a smirk, as I see Mira for the first time in years. Violet is right behind me, just a little bit more clumsily, as I watch her crack a tired smile. I keep her from falling over just barely, holding onto her pack. Mira looks almost exactly as I remember, just more muscular and with a few more scars than before.
“See, mom,” Mira says, gesturing to what just happened to Violet. “She can’t even handle carrying her pack up the stairs. How’s she going to do that up two hundred and fifty today?”
“She’ll be fine, Mira. I’ll make sure of it,” I speak up, trying to defend Violet. “I know she’s going to be targeted, but I won’t let her die. I’ve made sure to train with her every day, so she isn’t entirely unprepared.” Even if I don’t support the General’s decision either, I am well aware of how much Violet hates being put down and limited due to what she can’t do as well as the rest of us. I know Violet has a more fragile body than everyone else in our family, but it doesn’t make her incapable. I’ve seen her fight. She has potential. And speed, which we can use.
“Lyra, don’t make me fight you on this too. I know you don’t want to send Violet to death either,” Mira snaps back.
“You’re right, I don’t, Mira. But we don’t get to choose. Mom isn’t changing her mind on this one. Trust me. I’ve tried for six months.”
“Enough! If any of my children can survive this, it’s Violet. She has the capabilities, and she won’t die,” The General’s voice breaks through Mira and I’s arguing, as the temperature in the room decreases a few degrees. She’s pissed.
“Fine,” Mira huffs, knowing there is no swaying our mother’s decision any more.
Violet has stayed quiet this entire interaction, even though I can see how tense her frame is from all the discussion of her weaknesses
“Goodbye, mom. Though I’m not so sure why you are so ecstatic to send another one of your children to die again,” my voice is ice cold as I mention Brennan’s death, and everyone in the room’s body except for the General’s is now taut as a bowstring.
No one else knows how I was after we lost Brennan. I’m so fucking good at putting on a facade that no one saw the scars - mentally and physically. No one knows how close I was to just fucking ending it. I was always closer to Brennan than I was to either of my sisters. He did teach me a few things about poison though, which I will be using once I get in the Quadrant.
I leave, letting Mira keep shouting at Mom. I hear her through the door telling her how Dad wouldn’t want this and Mom snapping back. I don’t understand anything else but muffled yelling until Mira comes storming out.
“Gods, she pisses me off,” Mira mutters under her breath, making her way towards me.
“Hi, Mira,” I respond.
“Hey, Lyra. It’s so good to see you. It feels like it’s been a lifetime,” Mira says with a smile on her face as she comes over to wrap me up in a hug.
“It does,” I say simply.
Violet comes out then, clearly having talked to our mother again, looking more defeated than she did before. We haven’t always been the most agreeing as kids, but that’s mostly because of our very different paths in life. Well, I guess not anymore. I still won’t see her die today though, and she can’t think she will or it’s going to come true.
“Hey, we are not dying because of a fucking balance beam, Vi,” I speak up as we walk with Mira past our old rooms.
“You won’t, Lyra,” she responds to me with, and I decide to give up. Guess someone’s in a salty mood today. Not that I can blame her, we might well die today, no matter my confidence.
Mira sighs dejectedly, turning our way and looking us up and down disapprovingly.
“You cannot wear those clothes Vi, or you actually will die, and I won’t just fucking send you out there unprepared, no matter what Mom thinks,” she tells Violet sharply, passing her a tight fitted black top and pants of the same kind. I already got leathers that I put together from Mira and Brennan’s old stuff along with some things from shops I’ve found in my rare free time between my own and Violet’s training.
“I thought riders were supposed to earn their leathers,” Violet says.
“Yeah, well you’re not just anyone. You’re a fucking Sorrengail, Vi. Use it. Now, to you. Velyra, let me see your pack,” Mira starts rummaging through it as soon as I hand it over as Violet goes to change.
She apparently approves, and hands it back over to me. In the next moment books are flying from Mira’s hands as she goes through Vi’s pack, clearly not approving of her choice of things to bring along. I don’t either, but Mira probably has more strict ruling right now than me, considering she isn’t crossing the parapet today. I normally wouldn’t let Vi do reckless things like this, but I don’t have the heart to scold her today. And especially not about her safety or our dad.
“You aren’t a Scribe anymore Violet. Going into the Rider’s Quadrant means live or die, and I am not letting you die over fucking books,” Mira yells over to where Violet is still changing.
Violet comes rushing out as soon as she hears that, pulling her shirt down, “Hey! I want those Mira. I promise I can carry them!”
“No, Vi,” I speak up. “I’ll carry them, Mira.”
Mira looks up at me disapprovingly. “Lyra, I won’t let you die for fucking books either.”
“Well good thing you aren’t letting me, considering I make my own decisions. I’m also definitely strong enough and you know it.”
She sighs, giving up. She knows how stubborn I can be, and in this case, even if she said no, I was going to do it anyway.
“Gods, you’re annoying sometimes,” Mira mutters under her breath, clearly pissed at me. Good thing I don’t give a shit.
The bell rings above us, signaling that we have forty-five minutes before we’re expected to be at the parapet.
Mira swears under her breath, grabbing something that turns out to be two somethings as she hands over two vest-style corsets over our shirts.
“What is this made of?” oh, Vi, always the curious one.
“Dragon scale. I harvested some of Teine’s scales, then recruited a rider I know to help,” Mira winks at us.
“What was that wink for, Mira?”
“Aren’t dragon scales too big for this though?”
Me and Violet speak up at the same time.
Mira laughs, “Oh just that that particular rider’s signet is to make big things smaller,” I smirk, knowing what’s coming next, “And smaller things much, much bigger.”
“How much bigger?” I ask as Violet rolls her eyes. She’s never been as forthcoming with her escapades as me and Mira have. She didn’t even outright tell me about her and Halden until I saw them with each other and put it together myself.
Mira laughs again, her head tipping towards the ceiling, before somewhat sobering up. “Alright, you two. I’m braiding your hair. Who wants to go first?”
“You go, Vi.”
Violet goes to sit between Mira’s open legs, surprisingly without argument, though I think she might be too nervous to do that at the moment. Mira braids it into a crown of silver on top of her head, and then does the same for me.
After that, she slides four daggers into each of our sheaths, which are sewn into the corsets she gave us. I have sheaths for twin swords on my back too, but if I want to use those, I’ll earn them.
The bell chimes again, telling us we have thirty minutes left, and she starts to walk us towards the field, until she abruptly stops and pulls us both into a bone-crushing hug.
“Don’t you two dare die today. Remember all that I have told you so far, and what I am about to tell you. Do not let me see your names on the death roll tomorrow.”
“We aren’t dying today, Mira. Love you too, by the way,” I snark.
“Lyra might not be the best at saying it, but we won’t die today, Mira. We’ll be alright,” Violet promises.
“Thank you, Vi, but I know. Now, let’s go,” she says as she tugs us towards the gate to the fortress. We just catch back up to her before she starts to info dump on us.
“As soon as you cross, find Dain Aetos. He’ll get you in his squad, and keep you safe,” she seems to notice Vi’s smile then, “No smiling, Vi. He’s a second-year and a Squad Leader. If you want to get laid, then stay in your year,” Mira chides.
I don’t know if I’ll follow that rule, but I know Violet will and it’s a good thing. She needs to avoid as many rumours as possible.
“So I can take any of the first-years I want to bed, then?” Violet asks, grinning.
“Definitely,” Mira confirms, clearly encouraging this behavior.
Navarre’s six provinces of Morraine, Deaconshire, Tyrrendor, Calldyr, Elsum, and Luceras all send 20 year-olds each year that make up the mass that is waiting or entering each of the quadrants - healers, scribes, infantry, and riders. Basgiath War College is built into the side of Basgiath Mountain, with the riders getting their own fortress. Egotistical, pompous pricks, we are.
The tension in the air is palpable as we make our way through the mob of people to the southern turret, the entrance to the Rider’s Quadrant. Most people are moving in the opposite direction toward the Infantry Quadrant. With some others going to the Healers. I see a few taking the tunnel to go to the Scribe Quadrant too.
In the Rider’s Quadrant though, we don’t get a simple entrance. We have to climb up two hundred and fifty stairs to get to a balance beam of death, then cross it two hundred feet in the air with the wind whipping, and with what looks like a storm brewing on the horizon. Lucky us. Couldn’t Mom do one thing for our safety and stop that for us? Even if it is “unfair”?
We finally make it into the line, and Mira tells us to stay steady and to not let the wind sway our steps. Yeah, well easier said than done, Mira. There’s a few people ahead of us, one being a blonde boy with a woman who he has to pry off of him to move ahead while she sobs. Mira keeps giving us advice on how to cross the parapet, but I’ve got it. Just put one foot in front of the other and don’t look down until I finish.
Vi tries to slow down, telling us, “Maybe we should let the other candidates go before us.”
I tug her along, “It’s now or never, Vi, and you don’t have the option of the latter. The sooner you go the sooner it’s over, and you don’t want to let your nerves grow any more than they already have. Let’s go.”
The bell chimes, telling us it’s time. Eight o’ clock.
Mira keeps talking, but I zone out, too focused on the woman in front of us. She’s breathtaking. She looks like Amari. I might have to try and get with her for a night if we both survive. The other candidate ahead of us is the blond man I saw earlier.
I look towards the desk next, as Vi whispers, “Is he…?”
This causes Mira to look and her face twists in distaste and she mutters, “A separatist’s kid? Yeah. They’re all marked with that relic that starts on his wrist.”
I’ve never thought what they did to those kids was fair, marking them and forcing them into the Quadrant because of their parents’ actions. I’ve also had my suspicions about the Tyrrish Rebellion and what really happened. Is it how Navarre portrays it? Or is there a deeper story? Because there is no way that many people sacrificed their lives just to be free of Navarre with no incentive. I’m hoping to get some answers in the Quadrant, but I doubt that will happen. Even if there are kids of the separatists, I doubt they’ll like or trust me much considering my last name.
Violet and Mira clearly don’t agree with me on that though, so I stay quiet. I’ll tell Violet my suspicions later on, hopefully when she’s thought about it too and come to the same conclusions. The next sentence Mira says catches my attention though.
“Stay the fuck away from Xaden Riorson, and yes, that Xaden Riorson. The son of the Great Betrayer. He’s a third-year and a Wingleader,” that surprises me, that Navarre would allow a Riorson to rise that high in the ranks, “and he will try to kill you as soon as he finds out who you two are,” Mira continues on.
Mira and Violet clearly seem to be on Navarre’s side on this one, both thinking it’s bullshit to have made him a Wingleader, even if he has sworn allegiance to Navarre.
It’s our turn in line now, and the Scribe stationed there - Violet seems to know him - seems to be surprised that Violet is joining the riders. I guess word didn’t spread about the General’s decision.
Mira sets the record straight, “General Sorrengail made her decree that Violet here would be joining the riders instead. She doesn’t seem to care too much about her safety.” There’s the Mira I know, fierce enough to call out our mother no matter the person or scenario.
The scribe responds, “Too bad. Violet could have been the next Head of the Scribe Quadrant with her promise.”
“Mira Sorrengail?” says a shell-shocked tone to the scribe’s left. “Is that really you? The hero of Strythmore?” I guess Mira’s reputation might help us. That might be the only good thing to come of bearing the Sorrengail name here.
Mira nods, “These are my twin sisters, Violet and Velyra. They’ll be first-years this year,” she says over the snickering candidate behind us, who has gotten decently quieter and has been sounding more forced since Mira’s achievements have been brought up.
“You still remember how to get there, I assume?” the scribe says to Mira, seemingly trying to get us to get a move on.
“I do.”
Mira gives us one last goodbye, then saunters away, distinctly putting some swagger into her step and enjoying the hero worship she’s getting.
The woman ahead of us starts to talk to Violet and I half-listen, picking up some parts about our name and Mira and the General.
“How many steps are there?” the Amari-looking woman ahead of us asks.
“Two hundred and fifty,” Violet and I say at the same time. The woman looks at us, raising her eyebrows at the synchronicity of it.
“So, not too many. Oh, and I’m Rhiannon.”
“Dylan,” the blond kid in front of us says.
“Violet.”
“Velyra.”
“Aren’t you guys so excited that we finally get to do this? I’ve been dreaming about it for years,” Dylan says excitedly.
I forget that most people are excited for this death factory. I might be more prepared than Violet, but it doesn’t make me any more ecstatic about “getting” to go through it. I mean, yeah I want to ride a dragon, but is it worth fucking dying? Not to me.
“I can’t fucking wait,” at least one of us is excited.
“Are your guys' parents okay with it? Because my mom has been trying to get me to be a healer for months. I keep saying that riders can advance early, and marry earlier, but she doesn’t want to hear it,” it makes sense why Dylan would want to marry earlier. I saw him with that woman earlier.
“Damn. My parents always had my twin Raegan to dote on, so they’ve supported my decision. I bet you two were the first to sign up this year as Sorrengails,” she says, turning to me and Violet.
“I was volun-told,” Violet says, “But Lyra over here has been training her whole life.”
I’m glad Violet spoke for us, because I’m not looking to form friendships with people that might be dead in half an hour. I also just don’t want to talk right now.
Rhiannon looks at Vi in sympathy, “Well, that’s shitty. But at least riders are badass.”
Violet laughs, “Yeah, I guess they are. At least my sister is. But I don’t think it’s worth dying to call yourself a badass.”
Dylan fully pulls out his necklace he’s wearing, revealing a ring, “I’m not dying,” he declares, “She wouldn’t let me propose before Conscription Day, so I’m waiting until after graduation. These three years are going to be worth it if only it means we get to be together after it.”
I don’t have the energy or the heart to tell him they won’t really get to be together after graduation either, as Vi lets out a soft sight next to me. I have to say, it is romantic.
“I have hope for you, but this one is one breeze away from the bottom of the ravine,” says a voice behind us to Violet. She seems to have already met the asshole, but I must have been too zoned out to register his unimportant presence.
I turn to him with a frigid look. “Be careful what you say about my sister.”
That seems to shut him up for now, so I turn back to our group. I see Vi whispering to Rhiannon.
“What size are your feet?” she asks. Shit. She is way too self-sacrificing. I’ll need to shake that out of her if she wants to survive here.
Rhiannon has smooth-soled boots, and Violet is stupid enough to want to switch.
“Eight?” Rhiannon responds confusedly. She clearly doesn’t see how much of a weakness her boots are. I don’t exactly blame her for it, most people won’t have rider boots like me and Vi do right away.
“Vi, no-”
“Switch a boot with me. I’m a seven and it’ll squeeze the hell out of your foot, but it’s better than dying. Your boots’ soles are smooth and they won’t grip the stone, especially with the storm rolling in,” Vi continues on, as if she didn’t even hear me.
“No. Switch with me. I’m an eight anyway,” I turn to Violet. “Stop being so fucking self-sacrificing. This is stupid. While I don’t want to see her die either, I will not put your life at risk for someone we met less than an hour ago.”
“Her life is just as important as mine, Lyra,” Vi says back, rage in her eyes that I wasn’t expecting to see so early on.
“Not to me, Vi. You’re first for me here.”
She huffs, but turns back to Rhiannon, who is unlacing her left boot quickly. I start to do the same with my own, to get us to switch quickly before we get to the turret.
“We’re switching back once we get to the other side,” I say to Rhiannon.
“Of course. Thank you for doing this for me,” Rhiannon says to me gratefully.
The asshole behind us decides to make his presence known as we stop for a few seconds to put each others’ boots on by shoving me just as we get to the opening in the turret.
“Let’s get moving, freaks. I have things to do once I cross.”
I turn around, pulling a dagger and putting it at his throat in one quick movement. “I’d shut the hell up if I were you.”
He looks me up and down frustratedly with rage burning in his eyes at my display. He does decide to shut his mouth though, so I lower my weapon.
“Next time, it won’t just be a fucking threat,” I say, turning back around, wind whipping in my face. Good thing Mira put in that braid.
The turret is completely bare, nothing hiding the view of the ravine two hundred feet below us now. I’m sure Vi is thinking of the statistics right now, making her more nervous.
“Don’t think about dying, Vi. And no thinking about the stats either. We’re not dying today,” I say with conviction, trying to reassure her.
“Thanks,” she says and I see her holding her stomach with nausea.
“Match my breathing, Vi,” I say, trying to quell her nausea. I can’t have her fucking throwing up now.
She does as I say, improving her posture as her stomach settles. “Gods, how are you so calm?”
“I’ve been training my whole life for this. There’s nothing more I can do. You’ve got it, Vi. Just one foot in front of the other until we get to the other side.”
We get to the entrance, and I see three riders waiting to lead us to our possible death. The one recording names has the sleeves of his uniform ripped off. The second one has one strip of hair down the center of his head, the rest of it shaved. He is guiding Dylan into position as he grabs the ring again like it will magically make him survive. I hope it does. I don’t necessarily want to see him die yet.
Then, the third rider turns our way.
Fuck.
I’ve seen many men in my life, but none this beautiful. He has to be at least four inches over six feet. He has jet black hair and brows of the same shade. He has warm, tawny skin covering a strong, sharp jawline. He has toned arms, the muscles rippling as he crosses his arms over his chest. His eyes are onyx with little gold flecks in them. He has a scar diagonally crossing his left eyebrow that goes down to the top of his cheek that only makes him more exquisite. He has to be the closest thing to perfect that could ever have been created. And that isn’t even getting me started on his mouth. He looks crafted by the gods specifically for me.
He’s absolutely, jaw-droppingly gorgeous. I’ve never seen anyone that looks like him, even growing up where I did. It’s a good thing I already wasn’t going to listen to Mira’s advice, considering he is not a first-year.
“See you guys on the other side!” Dylan gives us a goodbye excitedly, as he steps up onto the parapet.
“Ready for the next one, Riorson?”
Shit.
The man I was just admiring is Xaden Riorson? The one Mira told us to stay away from. The son of the Great Betrayer. Fuck. How did I miss the rebellion relic when I was ogling him, running from his wrist, disappearing under his uniform, then reappearing up his neck and stopping just short of his jawline.
“You ready for this, Sorrengails?” Rhiannon asks. Shit. Now he knows who we are.
His gaze snaps to us, narrowing in on Violet first, to my disdain as she swears under her breath.
“Sorrengail?” he questions - and, gods, he’s tall. I don’t even quite reach the place where his relic ends.
Vi nods nervously, in response to his question. As soon as she does, his gaze shifts to cold hatred. I can practically feel the contempt he is exuding.
Rhiannon raises an eyebrow at me, and I nod back, signaling that everything is fine. We just might die right here. And not even from the parapet if we go by what Mira told us about how he’ll kill us as soon as he finds out who we are.
I bet I could take him though. And maybe not just in a fight - okay, maybe even finding out he’s Xaden fucking Riorson hasn’t quelled the attraction. If anything, it might make him even more appealing to me.
“You two are the General’s youngests,” he says with disgust.
“Yeah, and you’re the son of the Great Betrayer,” I say with a feigned derogatory tone. I really don’t feel prejudice towards any of the kids. It wasn’t their fault.
Talking back might not have been the smartest decision though, considering he could probably pick me up and throw me - and Vi - over the edge right now if he wanted to. Which makes me question why he hasn’t yet. Maybe Mira was wrong, and he doesn’t want to kill us. Or at least for now.
Xaden looks like he is trying to maintain control over himself as his jaw ticks two times, and he takes a deep breath before speaking again. “Your mother was responsible for the death of my father.”
“Your father killed our older brother,” I say back, trying to take the attention from Violet and to myself. I don’t want him focused on her if he does try to kill us. I might not be able to beat him, but I can at least try to protect Violet. I don’t even flinch talking about Brennan this time, surprisingly.
He scoffs, looking me up and down, tracking me for weaknesses. “Got those leathers from your sister, I’m guessing?”
“No, actually. I know how to do things for myself,” I know Violet got her leathers from Mira, but technically I didn’t, so I’m not even lying. But I’m not sure why he cares where I got them from.
I’m tense, ready for anything he throws at me, whether it’s just more words, or if he’s going to try to throw me off the turret. Hopefully it’s the former.
Rhiannon seems to have caught up to the fact that there may be some conflict here between Xaden and me and my sister. “Are you two okay?”
“We’re fine,” I say, turning to her and cutting off Xaden as he opens his mouth - effectively dismissing him - before he can actually say something.
Xaden seems to notice our boots. “Hm. So you’re friends, then?”
“We just met climbing up here,” Rhiannon steps in, defending us to my surprise.
“So you aren’t killing us yet, then?” Violet finally speaks up.
He meets her eyes then, smirking at something. Then, I hear a scream.
Dylan.
I don’t flinch as I see him slip and try to pull himself back up with his arms and kicks his legs futilely. It won’t matter. Dylan’s going to die on the parapet and we’re up next.
“Get back up, Dylan!” Rhiannon screams, distraught, just like Violet looks right now at this view.
“Gods!” Violet’s horrified cry is muffled by her hand as it covers her mouth in shock. Dylan loses his grip and falls down to the ravine, his cries lost to the wind and rain. He disappears from our view and as soon as he does, I turn back to Xaden, who is still staring directly at me with an unreadable expression, appearing unaffected by the display.
“Looks like I don’t need to kill you. The parapet has got it for me. You three better get going. You’re next,” he says with a fucking smirk on his face.