Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“Anya, Sweetheart, I need you to wake up.  Now.”

She was jolted out of an uneasy sleep by a strong hand grasping her shoulder.

Her father’s urgent voice echoed throughout the silent room as a small number of mage lights slowly activated casting a sharp light around her.

“What’s going on?”  Anya croaked as she slowly lifted herself into a sitting position, rubbing away all remanence of sleep.  Her father was standing above her in his flight leathers.  She blinked and confusion took hold.  It was still dark outside.  She tried to lock onto his eyes looking for reassurance, but he was already turning towards her sleeping brother in the adjacent bed.

“I really need you to do as I ask.”  He answered without turning back. 

He proceeded to gently but steadily shake the soundlessly sleeping boy in front of him.  “Ash, Ash, my little dreamer, wake up.  Please, I need you to wake quickly.”  He only stopped when the boy began to stir.

“Papa?”  Ash asked wearily as he began to wake.

“You both need to get changed.”

There was an abruptness in his manner that put Anya on edge, but before she could ask him what was wrong, he was already heading out of the bedroom and moving into another part of the cottage.

Out of the corner of her eye she saw her brother turn over and close his eyes.

She threw a pillow at him.  “Ash, don’t you dare.  Wake up.”

An arm extended upwards from the crumpled heap in front of her.  It took hold of the pillow and threw it straight back in her direction.  With an annoyed sigh, she grabbed hold of it once more and approached her brother.

As she bashed it down on top of him, she shouted, “Get.  Up.  Now.”

“Anya, stop it, I’m awake.”  Her brother rose slowly slightly swaying as he did so.  “Why are we getting up?  It’s still dark outside.”

“I don’t know.”

“Put on something warm.” 

Their father’s sharp voice echoed in from outside their room.  Anya, quickly, walked towards their armoire taking various items of clothing from the drawers, chucking a set at Ash.

Silently they quickly changed out of their night clothes, Anya helping her brother when he looked like he was about to lie back down and fall asleep again.   

Sounds of loud banging and scraping noises resounded from further in the cottage, suddenly startling them.  They grabbed the rest of their clothes and ran towards the source.  In the kitchen they almost collided with their father who was hastily gathering food, filling water canteens and drawing various items from numerous cupboards.  He was packing them into two separate packs set on top of the kitchen table.

“Papa, is everything ok?”  Ash asked tentatively as his father dashed past him taking a woollen blanket out of a basket in the corner of the room.

He stopped suddenly in front of them and smiled, but it was a smile that didn’t quite fully reach his eyes.  There was something tense in his face.

“Good you’re both changed.”

He continued towards the table, neatly rolled the blanket and attached it on top of one of the packs.

“What is happening?”  Anya asked as she walked towards him.  He grabbed a hairbrush from the table and softly knelt in front of her.  She let him brush her long hair, brown like his, and tie it back into a ponytail.  He gently tugged a stray curl that fell across her face behind her ear and looked into her eyes.

“Everything’s going to be ok.  We’re needing to leave.”

“We’re all going on Fala?”  Ash asked beside her.  Anya noticed the sound of apprehension when her brother mentioned his father’s dragon.  Fala frightened Ash on most occasions.

Again, there was no answer.  Her father sharply turned away and grabbed his flight jacket and sword and put them on the table beside the packs.

Anya took a moment, staring, and then abruptly turned and ran back into their bedroom.

“Anya, where are you going?  I need you to get back here right now.”

Ignoring him, she headed straight towards her bedside cabinet and seized a neatly embroidered notebook from the surface top and darted back towards the kitchen.  She almost collided with her father as he made his way sternly towards her with a look of a commander who tolerates not a hint of disobedience.

“When I tell you to do as I ask, I expect you …”

“I’m sorry papa.  I couldn’t leave without mama’s flower.”

Her father glanced at the notebook in her hand and his gaze softened.  He breathed in slowly.

“No … I’m sorry sweetheart.”  He carefully took the notebook from her hand.  “Here let me stow it away for you.”

He reached in the direction of a cloth that rested on the back of a chair, then reverently wrapped the notebook within it.  He then went on to make sure it was safe within her pack ensuring no damage came to the notebook as he closed it.  Finally, he picked up both packs and placed them onto the backs of both children, making sure they were secure and comfortable.  He then proceeded to put on his flight jacket and attached his sword across his back.

“We must hurry.  Now.”

Grasping both their hands, he led them through the cottage and out the front door.

The moment they stepped outside into the night air, it hit them.  A strong smell of burning and smoke filled the atmosphere.  So much they began to cough as the smoke thickened around them.  In the distance shouts and screams were heard through the forest trees that separated their cottage from the main village.

“Papa?”  Anya heard her brother whimper on the other side of her father.

He tightened his grip on their hands.  “It’s going to be ok, my loves.  I promise.  I won’t let anything happen to you.”

A roar echoed in the distance followed by a loud crash.  Anya felt herself shake and her father drew her in closer.

“Come on, quickly.”  He pulled them forward, setting a quick pace around the outskirts of the forest until they approached a clearing just within the tree line.  A dimmed light hovered high in the centre revealing a single occupant, a slight slender woman with dark shoulder-length hair dressed in what appeared to be riding leathers, though from what Anya could see, they were lighter than her father’s.  She stood in front of a beautiful chestnut horse.   One hand holding a rune powering the light above and the other placed on the side of the horse’s head, calming it from the sounds coming from the attack in the distance.

“Stay here and stay together.”  Her father moved towards the woman and greeted her quietly.  After a short, hushed conversation, he beckoned them to him.

They edged slowly forward, looking at the stranger with wide-eyed apprehension, not understanding who she was and what was happening.  However, their father gave them a reassuring smile.  He quickly took the packs off their backs and handed them to the woman.

“Loves, this is Lysandra.  She’s a flier and an old member of my war unit.”

Anya let out a gasp.  She had never met any of her father’s unit before and he never spoke of them.

“Hey, less of the old.  As you can see, I’m still completely in my prime.  You, on the other hand have let yourself completely go.  Enjoying too much of the country life?”

He gave her a stare and a shake of the head.

Ignoring him, Lysandra knelt in front of Anya and gave her wide genuine smile.

“You must be Anya.  I’ve heard so much about you.  If I was to bet, you’re strong and brave.  Like your mother … don’t take shit from anyone.”

“Lysandra!”  Her father growled.

“Sorry … old habits.  I can definitely see that.  You know, I was very close to her.  She saved my life on so many occasions and was one of the bravest souls I have ever met.  I was honoured to count her as a friend and comrade.  You know I did meet you once, but you were a baby at the time.”

She turned her head and gave the same honest smile to Ash.

“And you must be Ash.  From what I’ve heard, noble hearted and loyal.  Just like someone I know.”

She briefly looked up at their father and gave him a soft smile, one of a genuine close bond and friendship that could only have been forged in times of hardship.

Their father spoke again.  “So, you are clear on my instructions.  They are to be taken direct to Calldyr City and put in the care of the king.”

Lysandra nodded.  “I will protect them with everything I have.”  She turned and proceeded to load the packs onto the horse.

Ash looked to his father and a fear gripped Anya.  He wasn’t coming with them.

“You are both to go with Lysandra.  She will …”

“No, we want to stay with you.”  Ash cried.

With a gentle sigh, their father knelt in front of them bringing them close into a tight hug.

“I know, my loves, but I need to stay.  I’ve always swore to protect those who can’t protect themselves and the villagers here need someone to fight for them.”

He glanced in the direction of the village as further screams and roars were heard and turned back with a sad smile.

“And I need you to be safe.  Now both of you, listen carefully.  This is important.  Do not trust anyone fully unless…” he paused slightly, “… until they give you this phrase.  Do you understand?”

They continued to stare, tears beginning to fall down their faces.

“Do you understand?”

They nodded and he shifted forward, quietly communicating a clear phrase to them.

“Now I want you to repeat it back to me.”

Again, they hesitated.

“Please, do as I ask.  There’s not a lot of time.”

With a slight tremor in their voices, individually they recited the phrase.

“Good”

“We need to go” Lysandra stated as she climbed up onto the horse.  He let out a shuddering breath and he drew both children towards him once more and kissed them.

“You both will always be in my heart, and I know your mother will be watching over you.”

He gently lifted them, Anya first and then Ash, to sit in front of Lysandra.

“I will see you again.”

“You promise?”  Anya asked not wanting to let go of her father.

“I promise.  I will do everything I can.  Please be safe and protect each other.  I love you both so much”

Without taking his eyes from his children he gave his last order to Lysandra.

“Go.  Now”

Without hesitation Lysandra urged the horse forward.  Ash tried to struggle out of Anya’s grasp as he cried back, but she kept him seated. 

As they left the clearing, Anya turned one last time and locked eyes with her father.  Would this be the last time she ever saw him.  It was only broken when she heard a loud roar from above and a booming sound of beating wings.  As she looked up, a red dragon soared overhead.

“Fala.”  She reached her hand up towards her father’s dragon.

“Please keep him safe.”  And she prayed to all the gods she could remember

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I looked up as my first true love landed beside me.  The one who had chosen me when looking back, to be honest, I wouldn’t even have chosen myself.

“I didn’t think you would come.”

“Your current attire says otherwise.”

I rolled my eyes.  How I had missed his sarcasm.

“It’s good to see you.  It’s been a long time.  I’m sorry the climate is never to your taste up here.  But the battle should keep you warm.”  I knew he loathed the cold this far north.  All reds did. 

I looked back towards my children disappearing into the distance.  They are everything to me.  All the best parts of me.  All that I had left of her.

“Did I do the right thing?  Do you think they will be ok?”

“They are your hatchlings, Guardian.  Trust that you have protected them as much as you can.  However, do not focus on their outcome.  Concentrate on what is before us.”

I let out a small laugh.  He was always the realist.  Grounding me to the point at every opportunity.

“Direct as always.  Like old times.” 

He let out a low grumble.  I could almost mistake it as a laugh if I didn’t know him better.

“The battle awaits.”

I let out one more heavy sigh.

“Until the end.”

“Until the end.”

I sent out one last prayer to whatever god was listening, asking them to protect my children, and ran towards my red, mounting him as easily as I had at my time at Basgiath.  With one mighty roar, my dragon took to the air and headed towards battle waging in front of us.

Chapter Text

It had always been thought that Sgaeyl only tolerated three things – Tairn, her mate, Andarna, their surrogate daughter and Xaden, her chosen rider.  To everyone else, she scared the shit out of them.

But to Fen Riorson, she was different.  They secretly shared a strange bond.  Fen refused to fear her.  As a child, when she tried to scare and frighten him, as dragons do, he would only sit and stare at her, with his chubby baby arms reaching out for her, giving her a wide smile as he did so.  To begin with this encouraged her to be more intimidating towards him, to put him in his place.  But it somehow had the opposite effect.  As time passed, he broke down her walls.  She began to tolerate him, but also secretly, she began to care for him.  For her, he became an extension of Xaden himself.  She even let him ride her with his father, something that was almost unheard of.

-------------------------------------------------------------------

It was a brisk early morning as Xaden Riorson and his oldest son, Fen, approached the flight field just outside Riorson House.  They were met with a sense of peace and tranquility as the dark sky gave way to the subtle glows of dawn.  Cuir was the only dragon to be ready and waiting.

“Can you tell me again, why we’re setting off at the break of dawn?”

They both turned as Bodhi emerged onto the field behind them.   Violet walked beside his cousin.  She had a baby, wrapped across her front in a blanket that was tied securely over her back in some strange intricate way that defied logic.  It was a Tyrrendor tradition that Imogen had taught her.  He never understood how it worked.  His youngest son, Liam was sleeping silently as his wife gently rocked him back and forth.

Cuir let off a low-pitch growl in agreement against the early flight schedule.

Xaden sighed and pinched his nose.  He already had this discussion.

“If you remember.  As our all-knowing and wise king informed us.  If we don’t leave by sunrise, we can expect to meet storms that will likely force us towards Basgiath and I don’t want to be anywhere near that shell of a place.  As I’ve said before I am never going to take any of my children, family or friends anywhere near that hellhole ever again.  We will follow his warning.”

“Ah, yes, Aaric’s mighty signet.  Once used for swaying the outcome of battles and giving victories.  Now reduced to a warning system against the weather.”  Bodhi replied sarcastically.  “And, Basgiath.  Here I was thinking about having a nice stroll down memory lane.  Relive all the happy and fond moments of humiliation, torture and death!”  He sighed.  “Did Aaric give a reason why he is trudging our asses up into Callydr?”

They had received a summons from the king to come to the palace.  The reason was unknown, but Aaric was adamant that they come as soon as possible.  He also suggested that Fen join them.  This had slightly put Xaden on edge as Fen had never been officially summoned before.  It might be nothing, but you never knew with Aaric.  His signet was a mystery that always caused him concern and he was never really sure if an action was due to his precongnition ability or not.

“None, he just insisted.  Where’s Garrick?”

“He’s on his way.  He was helping Imogen settle Quinn before he left.”  Violet replied continuing to gently rock their son back and forth.  “Quinn practically clung to him when she found out he was leaving for a couple of days.  He will be along soon.  To be honest, I really wish you and Fen weren't going too.”

“I know, but if it had be anyone else but Aaric, I would have told them to fuck off.  You know I’ll miss you … and we'll be back before you know it.”

“You better.  You know how cranky Tairn gets when Sgaeyl is away.”

A gentle laugh escaped Xaden as he leant forward and kissed his sleeping son on the forehead.

“And what about a cranky wife?”

He looked up to take in her face.  The beauty of it always stuck him beyond breath.

She gave him a cynical look, shaking her head gently.

“You will take care, won’t you?  And keep Fen safe?”  Violet whispered.

“Of course I will.  Did you get Mira settled?”

“Eventually.  You’re going to owe her big time when you get back.”

Xaden silently smiled to himself.  He now felt for Garrick.  Mira, his daughter, practically screamed to high heaven when he tried to kiss her goodbye.  She had taken it upon herself to be his shadow for the past few months.  A daddy’s girl almost to the core.  He constantly couldn’t believe how his life had turned out.  To have a family surrounded in so much love, it was beyond him.  An incredible joy, that was an understatement.

Violet approached her oldest son, bringing him in close.

“You take care, Fen.  Ok?”

“I will mum.”

“Ok.”  She looked to them both.  “Give Aaric my love and for the love of … don’t let your Uncle Ridoc talk you into anything.”

A voice called from behind her.  “Hopefully after all this time, Brennan would have kept him in check.”

Garrick was walking casually towards them.

“When has anyone kept Ridoc in check.  That’s a pairing I never thought I would see happen.”  Bodhi casually stated.

“Stop it.  They’re sweet together.”  Violet came to her brother’s defence.  “When everything went to hell, as Xaden was there for me, Ridoc was there for Brennan.  Give them some slack.”

“You know I do.”  Bodhi gave her a wink.

“Are we all ready to go?  I would suggest leaving soon.  Quinn hadn’t quite calmed down when I left and the look I got from Imogen … I’m surprised she’s not here dragging my ass back in again!”  Garrick pressed.

Xaden opened his mouth to reply, but he was halted by the arrival of Sgaeyl and Chrudh.

He breathed a sigh of relief.  They could finally go.  All this amount of conversation was too much for him first thing in the morning.

“Ok, now we’re all here.  You all know the route.  Let’s just go.”

“Yes, your Grace.”  Both Garrick and Bodhi gave him a mock salute before turning towards their dragons.

With an eye roll he turned towards Violet.  He gave her a gentle kiss.

“I’ll be back before you know it.”

“Fly safe.  Both of you.”

Finally, Xaden faced the patient boy beside him.

“Are you ready son?”

Fen looked up at Sgaeyl and smiled.  Yes, he was ready.  He had thought of nothing else for weeks, ever since the missive came in from Calldyr.  To be in the air, on top of the dragon he loved, with his father.  There was nothing better in the world.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It was burnt out chaos.  Several cottages and trees were burning, and numerous bodies lay scattered on the ash covered ground, both villagers and attackers.  The attack was swift and vicious.  It was stronger than anything I had imagined.  But we had gotten most of the villagers into the forest and to safety. 

I was on my knees, hands tied behind my back.  A small number of others who had stayed behind to fight were flanked on either side of me, also on their knees.  Our clothes blooded and torn; heads bowed in submission.

Armed soldiers dressed all in black stood above us, no insignias identifying who they were.  But I knew.  I was so foolish to believe that I was hidden here, that my family and I were safe.  Such a fool.  I had doomed this village.  But at least I had gotten them out.  My children.  With every fibre of my being, I knew that Aaric would protect them like they were his own.  I just prayed that they would get there.  Lysandra was a strong fighter and I trusted her completely.

A heart-wrenching roar sounded in the distance to my right.  My red.  They had him restrained, held down by I don’t know what.  I had to keep my shields up.  I couldn’t react.  I couldn’t open myself to his pain.

Heavy footsteps came towards us.   I knew this would be their commander and I fought the urge to look.

“Is this all that’s left?”  That voice.  No, it couldn’t be.  I knew that voice.  I thought he was dead.

“These are the survivors of those who kept on fighting.  They distracted us while many of the villagers escaped into the forest.  Should we pursue?”

I could sense him pause, watching each of us in turn.

“No.  I believe we have what we need.”

The sound of footsteps continued.  He was pacing, still watching for any sign of weakness, anything that would stand out.  A cold fear took hold of me.  The last time I felt this terrified was in the belly of Basgiath.  I willed myself to stay hidden.  Like I had trained myself to do for many years.

An unearthly screech echoed around us and for one second, I dropped my shields.  He was in so much pain and it was just enough for me to let out a minor gasp.

The pacing stopped.

A pair of black army boots appeared in front of me and an arm reached out and grabbed my chin.  My eyes were forced onto to the face of one of my worst nightmares.  Gone was the short regulated military hair style, his hair not as black and thick as it once was and the years had not been kind to him, but it was his eyes, just as pale and soulless as they had been.  It was the face of Burton Varrish.  He had a sadistic smile across his face.  He tilted his head.

 “Where are they?”

I just stared at him.  The man who had once brought so much darkness when he was appointed to Basgiath.  Who leadership deemed fit to teach under its walls.

He struck me hard against the face.  So much that blood filled my mouth and I spat it right back in his gods-forsaken face with all the force I could manage.  The bastard sighed and wiped the blood off his face with his sleeve. 

“Where are your children?”

I stared back in defiance.  There was no way I was going to give this asshole any inch of what I was feeling inside.

Varrish just raised his voice and addressed the others.

“You are all dead men.  But that doesn’t have to be.  I know you are a hardworking and decent people who just want to be with your families.  I want that to.”

I laughed to myself, but it was anything but joyful.

“All I need is for one of you to tell me where this man’s children are, and the outcome can be so much different.  You can be with your loved ones again.”

To my surprise, no one spoke.  I wouldn’t have blamed them if they turned on me.  I was a stranger to them.  They didn’t know me, where I came from.  I didn’t really have much interaction with village, just trading when needed.  But I hoped that their silence was a shared solidarity to keep my children safe.  They were innocent, like their own children. 

Annoyance edged into his voice.

“This man is not one of you.  He has chosen to hide among you and because of his cowardice this destruction has been brought upon all of you.  This is your one and only offer and it will end now.”

“I saw them.”   A voice from down the line called out.

Shit.

“Gabriel, fucking shut up.”  Another voice.

“Why should I.  They’re strangers among us.  Always keeping to themselves.  We don’t need to give them our protection.  This is all his fault.”  He spits.

“He fought alongside us and helped save …”  Footsteps and a severe crack resonated throughout the silence.  A man fell forward, his neck twisted and broken.  I started to tremble, but this time with anger, not fear. 

Varrish smiled and turned from me and moved to stand in front of the man who spoke.  Gabriel.  I knew of him.  Gabriel was a weasel.  Always watching, gathering information to blackmail others for his own advantage.  I was surprised that he was still here.  Maybe he was caught while trying to run.  He looked like he was pissing himself.

“Go on.”

“I saw them … in a clearing … beyond the trees there … that way.  There was a girl … and a horse.  He talked to her and then she left with them.”  He was trying to save himself.  Like that would work.

“Both children?”

“Yes.  Sir.”

Varrish looked back at the me looking for a reaction.  Even though it was killing me not to scream and lash out, I just kept my eyes trailed on him putting every amount of malice, defiance and disgust into my very being.  Without turning back, Varrish asked Gabriel.

“And what direction did they go in?”

“South.  I heard … they are heading towards Calldyr.  To the palace I think to be put into the protection of the king.”

Varrish turned to look at a man standing to the right of the group.  The soldier gave a precise nod of the head.  A Truth-Sayer.  Of course he had a Truth-Sayer.  Predictable to a fault.

I closed my eyes in defeat.  My only hope now lies with Lysandra.  Silently, I urged her to ride fast as if Malek were chasing her.  I knew now that he was.

Varrish turned back to Gabriel again and smiled.  The weasel lowered his gazed, shaking under Varrish’s direct attention.

“Thank you.  You’ve been most helpful.”

Varrish turned to a soldier behind him.

“They will be heading towards the East Pass of the Steelridge Range.  Send a unit and go after them.  The children are to be taken direct to the temple.  Kill anyone who gets in your way.  They must not reach the protection of King Camlaen”

“Yes, sir.”  The soldier saluted and left.

Varrish turned his attention back to me.

“Bind him more securely.  He is to be taken direct to Acha.”

Another soldier spoke.

“What about the dragon?”

 “The General wants the rider alive.  The dragon is to be transported to Methven and put in the care of the order.”

“And the survivors?”

Varrish looked down the line.

“I don’t see any survivors.”  He walked away from Gabriel. 

No. 

Two armed soldiers approach me and grabbed my arms.  I tried to fight back with all the strength I had left.  I couldn’t let them all die for me.  Some of the men and women beside me laid their foreheads to the ground, quietly praying for a deity to save them, others spat and struggled against the soldiers advancing on them.

“But I helped you,” Gabriel screamed back at Varrish.

“Be glad it is a quick death.”

With one last plea, I shouted to Varrish. 

“No.  I beg you.  Please, please, let them live.  They have nothing to do with this.  I will go with you quietly”

Varrish just looked at me and laughed.

“Come on Dain, when has begging ever worked on me.”

Swords where unsheathed around them.

“A quick death is more of mercy to what you have in store.  Dear old Dad is waiting for you.”

He then signalled for his soldiers to continue.

Chapter Text

Xavier

It is with deepest regret that I am writing to you.  At 1100 on 1^st November 634 AU an unforeseen accident occurred during a scheduled flight exercise.  This tragic event involved your son and another rider cadet, and I am sorry to report that the outcome resulted in the deaths of both cadets.

Wingleader Dain Aetos was a true asset to the institution that is Basgiath.  Naverre has greatly lost a future leader and a true son.

May his soul be commended to Malek.

You have my sincere condolences as a friend and fellow rider.

Lyron Panchek

I close my eyes as another potential cadet loses their footing, tries to regain their balance and is sent flailing over the parapet.  Their final agonising scream penetrates deep into my core as they plummet straight down into the ravine below. 

“I can’t interfere ...  I can’t interfere,” I silently say over and over to myself.

The years of having the Codex drilled into me holds me back, knowing that this is necessary.  How can cadet hope to mount and ride a dragon if they can’t hold their balance to cross a parapet that is 18 inches wide.  Why delay the inevitable. 

Only the strongest riders will be able to defend Naverre.  My father’s belief drilled into me.

But even after years of my father’s tutorage there’s always a small part of me that wants to scream in defiance.  What harm would it do to give a potential cadet a small bit of advice before they cross, making sure they were prepared.  A cadet can always learn.  They can be taught to be stronger if given the chance.

“To interfere is not an option.  It goes against the Codex.”

My father’s voice echoes in my head.  It had always held me back.  Kept me in check.

No, I must stand still like a dutiful soldier.  That’s been the Aetos way for generations. 

I remember a time I had questioned why.  My father shut that down very quickly.  Sometimes it earned me the back of his hand, other times the constant repeating of the Codex, both written and verbal.  No rest until I understood what the right way was … the only way.  The only way I could be strong enough to become the rider my father wanted me to be.

I only ever had any freedom to think, to question and have my own ideas, was during my time with Asher Sorrengail.  It was a time of reading and researching with my best friend and her father.  A fond memory that I have always treasured.  Even now.  The smell of books and a cozy fire blazing.  Learning from a man … well, he could have been considered more of a father to me than my own during that time.

But it fades when I look towards the woman asking the names of potential cadets. Violet.  I know this must be killing her and I’m relieved to see that she has shut herself down from what is happening over the parapet.

My best friend.

Or so I thought until recently.

I just can’t understand why she hates me so much.  I know looking back over the last year, I was an overprotective asshole.  I’m ashamed to admit it.  I can’t believe that I almost practically dragged her to the Scribes quadrant.  I didn’t listen to her.  I thought I knew what was best for her.  It was more the cries when she dislocated her shoulder from climbing too high a tree.  The screams when she broke her angle just from running down a hill.  The pain she felt when she lost Brennan and then seeing Mira head off onto the same career path.  And in contrast, the joy and peace I saw in her when she was at her father’s side, researching and reading.  These were the images that constantly came to my mind when I saw her walk up to the sparing mat.  When I knew she had to face the Gauntlet.  Face Threshing. 

It didn’t help that I also saw the faces of the friends I made in my first year … those that I had lost.  It was a constant belief that I would lose her in the same way and I felt sick every time I imagined …  I just couldn’t cope … not when it came to her.

I close my eyes with a sigh.

Riorson was a class A fucker, but a part of me would always be grateful that he helped her to believe she could survive her first year … to be the rider she is now.   Something I failed to do as her best friend. 

My mind was completely fucked from the moment I saw her a year ago.  I can’t describe what I was thinking.  Gods, I didn’t even fully believe her over Amber.  I didn’t trust the judgement of my oldest friend over someone I had only known for a year.  I tried to take a memory from her for fuck’s sake … almost forced myself on her.  It will never be an excuse, but I was completely out of my fucking mind.

I failed her.  Plain and simple.

But I really thought we were good.  We left on good terms when she left for War Games.  I knew I couldn’t fight against Riorson and Violet was entitled to her own choices.  So, I let her go.  Now I just want to be her friend again, but I don’t know why she is not letting me in.  Did she not believe me?

“Are you done brooding, Guardian?  If not, please have the common decency to raise your shields.  You’re giving me a headache.”

Cath’s voice echoes in my head.

“I’m not brooding.  I’ve obviously done something to upset her.  I’m just trying to work out why she hates me so much.”

“From what I can see, you have done more than just upset her.  I have this feeling that she wants to throw you from this tower, direct into the ravine below.  Maybe it will put you out of your misery.”

What … No … Violet wouldn’t do that.

“You can’t be serious.”

A humph sound resounded in my head.

“What the hell happened in Athebyne?”

“Why don’t you ask someone who was there?”

“You don’t think I haven’t tried.  I tried to talk to Violet and she shut me down.  Any of the others just look at me with downright hostility.”

“Well, I suggest that is a problem for another day, Guardian.  Just stop being in your head.  You must focus on what is now and the fact that these new recruits are going to look to you as their leader.  Today is a day to be strong, assured and confident that you are the right choice as a Wingleader.  A fourth of these new potential riders will be under your chain of command and you will not fail them in your duty.  I didn’t choose a pouting idiot.”

Cath … always a realist.  He was right.  I must pull myself together.  I can’t blow this.

“Understood.”

The next candidate approaches me.  Gods, he is built like a bull, probably with the same IQ.  First Wing material if I am not mistaken.  Before I can give him instructions on what to do after crossing, he charges pass me and practically runs across the parapet, dislodging a red-haired kid who had just stopped to get their balance halfway.  Completely without a second thought.

And these are the men that my father believes to be right to defend Naverre.  Brute strength, apathetic and practically no intelligence. 

“Some dragons are the same.”

I would have let out a small laugh at Cath’s insight into his own kind if I wasn’t disgusted that the candidate had crossed successfully.

“Jack Barlowe Junior.”

I hear Rhiannon whisper under her breath.  I flinch at the name and glance towards Violet.  I remember the devastation in her face when she killed him during War Games a couple of months ago, when her signet first manifested.  I was wondering if her thoughts went there too, but she was already turning towards the turret, ready to greet whoever came next.

“Cam?”

At the name, I look directly at the sandy-brown haired candidate emerging from the doorway.  I stare in disbelief. 

Not again …

Cam.  He looks like he has packed on more muscle since I last saw him and has more of an air of confidence about him than before.

But … Shit … How the hell is he here.

“Aaric … Greycastle.”  Aaric, of course, his middle name.

Violet whispers something to him, but it is too quiet for me to hear.

“Aaric Greycastle,” he repeats, and I can see his jaw flexing in frustration.

Already I can feel the panic raising in me again.  I can’t let him do this.

“GUARDIAN.”  Cath shouts in my head.

No … Fuck, I’m doing it again.  Making decisions for someone I care about.  But I had to make sure he knew the risks.  I feel Violet’s eyes on me.

“You sure about this?” I ask softly, hoping he sees the concern in my eyes.  “You cross the parapet, and there is no going back.”

Cam … sorry, Aaric nods.

“Aaric Greycastle” Violet repeats his name to Rhiannon.

I need to try one more time.  I owe him that much.  Along with Vi, he was one of my closest friends growing up.  Even when my father was stationed elsewhere, we constantly wrote to each other.

He’s going to hate me, but it is my last hope.

“Does your father know?”  I murmur to him.

“It’s none of his business,” he snaps back at me, advancing towards the parapet rolling his shoulders.  “I’m twenty.”

“Right, because that’s going to make a difference when he realises what you’re doing,” I retort back, knowing my last chance was slipping through my fingers.  “He’ll kill us all.”

It was a selfish cheap shot, but he had to know the wider risks.  His life might not be the only one on the line.

“Are you going to tell him?”

I recoil, hurt at the emphasised you.  Hurt that he would think I would do that.  I shake my head in resignation and look hopefully to Violet to see if she might have anything else to add.  I get nothing from her.

“Good, then do me a favour and ignore me.”  His green eyes meet mine and I stare into them.  His eyes have always been one of things I loved most about Cam.  They were kind and they evoked a sense of peacefulness in me that I always craved.  But now, I can’t explain the look he is giving me.  It’s resolved, but intense.

“We’re Second Squad, Flame Section, Fourth Wing.”

Violet directs his attention away from me.

“Cath?”

He sighs in my head.  “I will make sure the correct people know to put him under your command, Guardian.”

“Thank you.”

A small relief, but I can’t stop my mouth from opening to reprimand Violet.  I know what she was doing, I sympathised with it, but it wasn’t her place to do so.

But she shuts me down.

“Not today.” 

I snap my mouth shut and I watch as Aaric adjusts his pack and steps up to the parapet.  I gently sigh as I turn to face him.

“Ok, once you’re on the other side, you’ll give your name to the roll keeper.”

He briefly looks at back me.  “I understand.”

“Don’t die,” I whisper gently to him.  And he starts his crossing without looking back.

I keep my eyes trailed on him as takes his first few steps and my heart almost stops as I see him correcting his balance as a breeze flows around him.  I really don’t know if I can take my eyes off him. I’m scared if I turn away all I will hear is his screams.

“Sloane Mairi.”

Mairi … a relation of Liam?  I remember hearing from my father that he had a sister.  I turn to see what Violet’s reaction is as I know how close she was to Liam.  It was instinctive.  To be there as a support if she ever needed it.  But I abruptly stop when I see the woman who had just given her name.

In as much as knew Liam was one of the most decent and caring cadets I had ever met, the one thing that completely irritated me about him was the way that others always stared at him.  When it came to the sparing mats everyone else just faded into the background.  I mean I know I am ok, but even I was ignored.  I heard others call him almost godlike.  I mean, yeah, he was on another level.  But godlike?

But looking at Sloane Mairi now.  Godlike is an understatement.  I have never seen anyone as beautiful in my life and I had grown up in and out of court in Calldyr City.  She was beyond anything Naverre’s aristocracy had to offer.

I couldn’t stop staring at her.  The light blond hair similar to her brothers.  Those piercing blue eyes.  She was completely glowing.  Her radiance drawing me in. 

“You will be please to know that your prince has already made it halfway.”

Shit … Cam.

“Thank you.”

“Should I now go and get myself a selection of sheep to gnaw on while I watch the show you are about to put on.  I just can’t wait until the part where you crash and burn.”

Sarcastic bastard.

“Why don’t you go and work on your scary face for Formation.  Sgaeyl is a lot to live up to.”

I quickly raise my shields as a deep growl rumbles throughout in my head.  I’m going to pay for that one.

I turn back towards Cam … no Aaric, to see if he is still moving.  Thankfully he is.  Actually, it looks like the parapet isn’t proving much of a challenge for him.  That’s good.

“Stop.”

I turn back to the others to see Violet jump off the wall she had been sitting on and approach Liam’s sister.

She removes a small leather band from the front of her uniform and hands it to … Sloane, that was her name.

“Tie your hair back first.  Braid is best.”

“Vi …” I go to warn her, even though deep down I hated myself for it.  Cath was right.  I needed to be a leader and keeping to the rules kept me in check.

She glares at me and I can see pure rage and hatred in her eyes.

“Don’t you dare say another word, or I’ll blast you off this turret, Aetos.”

I then see the power crackling in her hands and lightning erupts overhead.  I quickly back down.  I can’t risk angering her any further especially with Aaric still on the parapet.  What if he turns and falls.

I sit down and silently murmur to myself.  Why is everyone out to get me.  I just can’t win any fight today.

I turn to look at how Aaric is progressing.  Still solid.  I wonder if he had any help in preparing for this … and how he kept it quiet from his father.  King Tauri was devastated after Alic died.  I’m sure he would have locked Aaric in the palace if he knew what he was up to.

“Arms out for balance.”  Violet is now instructing Sloane behind me. I casually shake my head.  Surely someone has already explained this to her.  Already trained her for this.  It would have been known that this is where she would end up.

I breathe a sigh of relief as I see Aaric reach the other side.  He made it. 

I then glance back towards Sloane.

“Don’t let the wind sway your steps.  Keep your eyes on the stones ahead of you and don’t look down.  If the pack slips, ditch it.  Better to lose it than your life.”

This time I get a better look at her and I suddenly feel horrified.  I get this feeling that no one has taught her any of this.  Did her foster family really provide her with no preparation whatsoever?  They must have known how much of a death trap this place was.  It was the same as sending her to her death.  I let out a breath and secretly thank Violet for stepping in.

“You’re Violet Sorrengail?”

Violet nods and I see Sloane’s body shift.  She starts to say something to Vi that is so quiet, I can’t make out a word.  But I see Violet’s face though and it goes deathly pale as if all the blood had been drained from it.  I’ve known Violet a long time and there is not much that truly rattles her.  Maybe Sloane isn’t as defenceless as I just thought.

The silent conversation comes to an abrupt end as Violet steps back allowing Sloane a path towards me and the parapet.  I make to stand again.

“Just do me favour and put your fucking arms out so you don’t see Liam before I do.  Do it for him.  Not me.”

What the hell … She definitely had Violet rattled.

She holds my gaze as she approaches me.  An air of determination radiating off her.

I say my piece.

“Once you’re on the other side, give your name to the roll keeper.”

To my surprise she slowly looks me up and down, but then quickly dismisses me as she stands up to the parapet.  Despite myself, I try to resist a smile.  I think this might be an interesting year.

“I like her.”

“What the fuck.  How the hell did you get through my shields.”

I can feel my Red laughing in my head.

I am jolted awake, my head banging off the side of the transport wagon as it moves over rough terrain.  Thoughts of that Conscription Day fading from my mind.  I try to lift my hands to rub my face, but my arms are held tightly behind me, restrained by heavy chains bolted to the bench I am sitting on.   My ankles are secured too, giving me no amount of movement.  These men were not taking any changes with me. 

I close my eyes hoping that I can feel my dragon, but I can no longer feel the connection to Cath.  I think it’s been hours since I last felt his pain.  My body is physically shaking.  The lack of connection is causing a constant ache in my head and a strong sense of nausea.  My body is weak and it is like a fever is running through it.  But is nothing compared to the emotional worry I have for him. 

I also think of my children.  I don’t even know if they are safe and I pray with everything I have left that they are.  The thought of Anya or Ash in the hands of these men, particularly like the man sitting in front of me, drives so much terror through me, it drives me almost insane.

“You’re like an open book, Dain.  The fear that is exuding off you is drawing your weaknesses to the surface.  I don’t even have to try.  Where’s the challenge.  It’s pathetic.”

“Fuck you,” I growl back at him.

He leans over and forces my head back against the side of the wagon, grabbing my throat.  He looks directly at me.

“Now, now.  Imagine how your father would feel if he saw the son he raised speaking to those in command like that.  And I am in command here.”

“Fuck him as well.”

I do the only thing that I can think off and drive my forehead into his with as much strength as I can manage.  A searing pain runs through me and I howl in response, but it loosens the grip he has on my throat and drives him back to his seat.  I try to regain my breath.

“How are you still alive?” I croak.

He gives me a sadistic look.

“I could ask you the same question.  Though we have known for a while now, that you have been in hiding.  We’ve just been biding our time.  But to be honest, it is of no concern to me.  You’re a traitor through and through, Dain, and I would see you tied to the bottom of the deepest ocean for your desertion.”

A laugh escapes me.

“Then it must have truly infuriated you that I slipped through your fingers.  How did you tell my dear father.  Did you cry as you announced your failure.  Did he pat you on the head and tell you everything is going to be ok.  Like a good little boy.”

The only warning I had was a slight flex of his jaw.  He braced himself over me again and grabbed my chin, forcing me to look into his eyes.

“I will tell you this only once, you pathetic excuse of an existence, when your dear old dad is done with your children, he is going to give them over to me and the men I have under my command are not as compassionate and considerate as I.  Imagine what they will do to your innocent daughter.  Nine isn’t she.  My men don’t really care what they take.  It wouldn’t matter that that she is not yet reach womanhood.  And your son, six years old … so young.  My men take bets, you know.  What would fare best against a Wyvern … yes, there are some still around … sheep, goats, tigers, gryphons, prisoners, anything that takes their fancy.  I think they would love to watch your son being torn limb from limb, while he screams that you weren’t there to save him.”

All I see from that moment is red.  I want to scratch his eyes out, to yank out his black heart with my bare hands.  I fight against my restraints with everything have, screaming until I bled.  But he smiles while he unsheathes his sword and slams the pommel against my head.

A sense of hopelessness consumed me as the blackness took hold.