#Zihnal

[wingedshadowfan]

so we don't know much about the gods in fourth wing, we actually only know four

amari, queen of the gods (whose statues rhiannon resembles; the one whose temple is specific to aretia, the capital of tyrrendor; the one whose "messenger" xaden is described as once which i'll post separately about)

malek, god of death (everything belonging to the deceased should be burned in his name or he will be unleash his wrath upon them)

dunne, goddess of strength and war

zihnal, god of luck

so... are they real in this world? because tairn calls them "puny" (weak) and says dragons don't pay attention to them, which to me isn't a "they don't exist", it's a "dragons don't play by the human rules because they're so strong"

#fourth wing #rebecca yarros #iron flame #fantasy #romance #the empyrean #booklover #violet sorrengail #tairneanach #tairn #violet and tairn #amari #zihnal #malek #dunne

[empyrean-thrones]

Navarre's Religion

Plocothos, most commonly referred to as the Pantheon, was brought over from the country Ospon along with the first domesticated dragons and quickly became the dominant religion after the Unification. The Pantheon, as they're commonly called, consists of four gods:

Amari -- goddess of fertility, love, and beginnings

Dunne -- goddess of war, hunting, and wisdom

Zihnal -- god of good fortune, harvest, and music

Malek -- god of death, judgement, and dreams

The afterlife in Plocothism is split into two sections: Elysium and the Void Realm. Both areas are connected to Malek's domain and can only be accessed after a soul is judged and sent to either realm. Those who've died honorably and lived without fault are guided into Elysium, the eternal paradise where they'll no longer feel pain or anguish. Those that sin and fail to atone are thrown into the Void Realm, a place filled with nothing but darkness and the screams of those they've wronged. There is not peace or respite for the ones who end up here, only eternal torment and insanity.

#Navarre #Empyrean thrones #the empyrean #empyrean series #Navarrian Pantheon #Amari #Dunne #Zihnal #Malek

[fourthwingfan]

Madness - Chapter 2

Warning: violence, swear language and pretty much that's all for now

There’s a misconception that it’s kill or be killed in the Riders Quadrant. Riders, as whole, aren’t out to assassinate other cadets…unless there’s a shortage of dragons that year or a cadet is a liability to their wing. Then things may get…interesting.

– major afendra’s guide to the riders quadrant

(unauthorized edition)

I will not die today. I will survive it. Then I will be free.

The words become my mantra, repeating in my head as Rhiannon gives her name to the rider keeping tally at the opening to the Parapet. The hatred in Xaden’s stare burns the side of my face like a palpable flame, and even the rain pelting my skin with each gust of wind doesn’t ease the heat – or the shiver that jolts down my spine.

Rhiannon grips both sides of the opening in the turret, then looks over her shoulder at me. „I’ll wait for you on the other side,” she shouts over the strom.

I hope so. I mean she has my other boot, thanks to Violet’s fantastic idea. She’s too kind for my own good.

She steps out onto the Parapet and begins walking, and even though I’m sure his hands are full today, I send up a silent prayer to Zihnal, the god of luck. For all of us.

„Name?” the rider at the edge asks as his partner holds a cloak over the scroll in a pointless attempt to keep the paper dry.

„Where were you for the last 5 minutes? I don’t think that you’re so blind to not notice that staring show with Riorson just now.” I say in surprise.

„Melgren, is it?” he asks in an annoyed tone. „Go and try to not fall off like your friend. I don’t think that your father will be too pleased.”

„As if he cares…” I mutter as thunder cracks above me, the sound comforting. I’ve always loved the nights where storms beat against the fortress window, both illuminating and throwing shadows over the walls. It makes me feel small, if I was like somebody else. With a quick glance, I see Dylan’s and Rhiannon’s names already blurring at the end where water has met ink. There will be another roll at the end of the Parapet so the scribes have their beloved statistics for casualties. Morbid.

I place my hands on either side of the turret and drag my fingertips across the stone. It’s still warm from the morning sun but rapidly cooling from the rain, slick but not slippery from the moss growth or anything.

„Today if possible, Melgren.” I hear Xaden shouts behind me.

Handsome, but a prick. Just my luck.

Ahead of me, Rhiannon is making her way across, her hands out for balance. She’s probably a fourth of the way, her figure becoming blurrier the farther she walks into the rain.

In through my nose, out through my mouth. I force my breathing to calm, my heart rate to slow down. I can do it. I trained for this. I am Aelin Melgren and I will survive it.

I take the lone step up onto the Parapet. I find my balance and I move, leaving the safety of the turret. There’s no going back now.

I take measured strides that I practiced for so long. I can do it. One step a time. Don’t look down, just keep your eyes ahead of you. You will get through it. For you. For Violet. I hear my thoughts encouraging me.

The stones beneath my feet are uneven in places, held together by mortar in the joints that make it easy to trip, and I concentrate on the path ahead of me to keep my eyes off my boots. My muscles are tight as I lock my center of gravity, keeping my posture upright.

„And you think you’ll be able to ride?” I heard behind me. „Some Sorrengail, with that kind of balance. I pity whatever wing you end up in.”

I stop and glance back at Violet. It seems the wind knocked her back at the turret’s wall.

„Come on Vi. You need to tell me the facts that you know about this place. Don’t waste your time with lowlifes like that one.” I say to distract her.

„Facts? I’m not some book you know.” She replies.

„Some? No. You’re a fucking library.” I laugh at her.

Step after step, we make our way across the Parapet.

„Navarre, our home, is the larger kingdom, with six unique provinces…” I hear Vi behind me.

„Then what about Poromiel?” I ask when she stops. I need to distract her. She need to focus on something and not the fact that we can fall off the Parapet any minute.

We pass the painted line that marks halfway. We’re over the highest point now. Yes, we’re good so far. Rhiannon ahead of us, at what I think is the three-quarters point. Good.

That’s when I hear a shout behind me.

„Vi?” I ask as I try to turn around despite the strong wind.

„I’m fine. I’m fine.” she squeaks. „Go on, I’m okay.”

„Fuck Vi, don’t do this to me. I promised you that we will be getting off the Parapet the safe way, not by jumping.” I try to humor her. „Now where were we? Poromiel?”

„The kingdom of Poromiel mainly consists of arable plains and marshlands and is known for exceptional textiles, endless fields of grain, and unique crystalline gems capable of amplifying minor magics.” Continues Vi

I spare only a quick glance at the dark clouds above me before inching forward, one foot carefully placed in front of the other. My next step knocks a couple of pieces of mortar loose, and I pause for a moment. I swallow and test my weight before moving forward again.

„In contrast, Navarre’s mountanious regions offer an abundance in ore, hardy timber from our eastern provinces, and limitless deer and elk.”

Good. She’s focused on history. We can do this. We’re almost there. I can see the Riders Quadrant from here. The enermous stone footings of the citadel rise up the mountain to the base of the structure, where this path ends. Scraping the rain from my face with the leather on my shoulder, I glance behind us to see where that jerk is.

He’s stalled at just after the quarter mark, his stocky form standing still…like he’s waiting for something. His hands are at his sides. The wind seems to have no effect on his balance. I swear he’s grinning across the distance, but it could just be the rain in my eyes.

We can’t stay here. We have to keep moving. I try to walk a bit faster, in hope that Vi follows.

I look back over my shoulder to see where that jerk is. Jack if I remember correctly. Or something similar. Who cares.

He’s turned his back on us and is facing the next candidate, who wobbles dangerously as he approaches. Jack grabs the gangly boy by the straps of his overpacked rucksack, and I watch, as Jack throws the scrawny candidate from the Parapet like a sack of grain.

A scream reaches my ears for an instant before fading as he falls out of sight.

Holy shit.

„You’re next Sorrengail!” Jack bellows, and I jerk my gaze to Violet.

Then his strides eating up the distance between us with horrifying speed.

MOVE. NOW.

„Vi, we need to move faster. You can do it, just don’t look down.” I say with a serious look.

I can’t do anything right now. The Parapet is too narrow to switch places, and even if we can manage somehow I don’t want to test my figthing skills on these slippery stones.

Another gust of wind slams into me and I lost my balance for a moment. When I regain it I hear a thud and glance behind my back. Violet is on her knees, her left leg is dangles off the edge of this bridge from hell.

Jack is far too close now.

„Violet Sorrengail you can do it. Stand up and come with me. We’re almost there.” I say while I reach for her arm to help her up.

„I will not die today.”

„You won’t. Now come, we need to move.”

„I’m coming for you Sorreangail!” Jack shouts.

Vi throws her arm out to the side and nods. Good, we can go.

I focus on the end of the path, the courtyard of the citadel, where Rhiannon steps to safety. I keep my body tight, my center locked.

„Will you scream the whole way down?” Jack mocks, still shouting, but his voice is closer. He’s gaining on us.

„Don’t listen to him!” I say when I can see the end of the Parapet now, the riders who wait at the entrance to the citadel.

„It’s really for the best that I take you out now, don’t you think? It’s so much more merciful than letting the dragons have at you. They’ll start to eat you leg by rickety leg while you’re still alive. Come on,” he cajoles. ”It will be my pleasure to help you out. You’re a dead weight to Melgren anyway.”

„Fuck off Jack. If the dragons going to eat somebody, it definitely will be you.” I yell back at him.

There are only a dozen feet left to the outside of the citadel’s enermous walls. My left foot slips, and I wobble, but I only lose a heartbeat before I’m moving forward again.

Fuck this boot. It’s really a death trap.

The fortress looms behind those thick battlements, carved into the mountain in an L-shaped formation of tall buildings, built to withstand fire, for obvious reasons. The walls that surround the citadel’s courtyard are ten feet thick and eight feet tall, with one opening – and We’re just. About. There.

I hear Vi bites back a sob as stone rises up on both sides of us.

„You think you’ll be safe in there?” Jack’s voice is harsh…and close.

Secure on both sides by the walls, I run the last ten feet, adrenaline pushes my body to its max. I hurtle forward, jumping the twelve inches off the elevated Parapet down to the courtyard while turning back and grabbing Violet’s arm to push her in front of me, where two riders wait.

Jack roars in frustration. Spinning, I rip a dagger from its sheath at my ribs just as Jack skids to a halt above me on the Parapet, his breath choppy and his face ruddy.

Murder is etched in his narrowed, glacial blue eyes as he glares down at me…and where the tip of my dagger now lies againt his bare throat.

„I think, we’ll be safe for right now asshole.” I hiss at him.

„Will you?” Jack vibrates with rage, his thick blond brows slashing down over arctic blue eyes, every line of his monstrous frame leaning my way. But he doesen’t take another step.

„It is unlawful for a rider to cause another harm. While in a quadrant formation or in the supervisory. Presence of a superior-ranking cadet,” Violet recites from the Codex. „As it will diminish the efficacy of the wing. And given the crowd behind us, I think it’s clear to argue that it’s a fromation. Article Three, Section-„

„I don’t give a shit!” He moves, but I hold my ground and my dagger slices in his neck, a thin red line starts to from under the blade.

„I suggest you reconsider. Or no and I will cut your throat. I don’t care.”

„Name?” the rider next to me drawls, as if we’re the least interesting thing she’s seen today. I glance in her direction for a millisecond. She pushes the chin-length, fire-red strands of her hair behind her ear with one hand and holds the roll with the other, watching the scene play out. The three silver four-point stars embroidered on the shoulder of her cloak tell me she’s a third-year.

„Aelin Melgren” I answer, but a hundred percent of my focus is on Jack again. The rain drips off the lowered ridge of his brow. „And before you ask, yes, I’m that Melgren.”

„Not surprised, with that maneuver,” the woman says, holding a pen.

„And you? You’re pretty small for a rider, but it looks like you made it.” She said to Violet.

„I’m Violet Sorrengail.”

„A Melgren and now a Sorrengail. It will be interesting.”

„Your name?” She asks again. Pretty sure she’s asking Jack, but I’m too busy studying my opponent to glance her way.

„Jack. Barlowe.” There’s no sinister little smile on his lips or playful taunts about how he’ll enjoy killing. There’s nothing but pure malice in his features, promising retribution.

„Well, Jack,” the male rider on my right says slowly, scratching the trim lines of his dark goatee. He’s not wearing a cloak, and the rain soaks into the bevy of patches stitched into a  worn leather jacket. „Cadet Melgren has you by your throat here. And Cadet Sorrengail is right. Regs state that there’s nothing but respect among riders at formation. You want to kill her, you’ll have to do it in the sparring ring or on your own time. That is, if she decides to let you off the Parapet. Because technically, you’re not on the grounds yet, so you are not a cadet. She is.”

„And if I decide to snap her neck the second I step down?” Jack growls, and the look in his eyes says he’ll do it.

„Then you get to meet the dragons early,” the redhead answers, her tone bland. „We don’t wait for trials around here. We just execute.”

„What’s it going to be, Melgren?” the male rider asks.

Shit. What is it goint to be? I can kill him and spare us a lot of trouble, but I don’t think it would be such a good idea after all. There are a lot of people and we have been cadets for what? A whole minute? I don’t want to bring more attention to Violet. She’s barely able to protect herself and I won’t be by her side in every minute.

„Are you going to follow the rules?” Violet asks Jack behind me.

Sweet, naive Vi. Of course he’s going to, until he can find a way to kill her. Damn I need to teach her how to properly protect herself.

„Guess I don’t have a choice.” A corner of his mouth tilts into a sneer, and his posture relaxes as he raises his hands, palms out.

I lower my dagger but keep it palmed and ready as I move sideways, toward the redhead keeping roll.

Jack steps down into the courtyard, his shoulder knocking mine as he walks by, pausing to lean close to us. „You’re dead, Sorrengail, and I’m going to be the one to kill you. And watch your back Melgren, I will be there.”

„Of course honey, I’m waiting for you in a dark corner. I really like to see you bleed out.” I reply waving at him.

#xaden x reader #xaden riorson x reader #xaden riorson #liam mairi #bodhi durran #the fourth wing #garrick tavis #the empyrean #fourth wing #fourth wing fanfic #fanfiction #oc #violet sorrengail #dragons

[writersquadrant]

Chapter 1: Conscription Day

The trials are physical but, the challenge is mental. - Excerpt of recovered correspondence of Lieutenant Xaden Riorson; beneficiary unknown.

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

The relics on their arms could have parted the sea of civilians that lined up at Basgiath War College. Conscription Day brought amateurs from near and far who thought it was honourable to join the rider’s quadrant. And on that day, Thana and Liam were among them.

As they made their way through the admissions building toward the winding staircase that led up to the parapet, Thana kept close to Liam. Although they had been training for most of their lives for this, the possibility of losing him terrified her.

Thana came from a long line of riders on her father's side but, she didn’t know if she wanted to follow in their footsteps. She spent her childhood wanting to become a healer following the untimely death of her mother. After the rebellion, that choice was taken away from her and her destiny was put in the hands of Lilith Sorrengail.

~

Liam observed Thana as she meticulously assessed the wannabe cadets lining up to cross the parapet. The intensity in her gaze hinted at her scrutiny of any potential threats. As her tense posture eased and she offered him a tight-lipped smile, Liam sensed that none of them posed a threat. Her arrogance was laughable. Her skill was leathal.

In the quiet moments of waiting, Liam couldn't help but overhear the conversations swirling around them. The voices of the girls behind him drew his attention.  The taller girl was called Rhiannon - quite beautiful - and the other was Violet Sorrengail.

Leaning closer to Thana, Liam murmured into her ear and gestured subtly toward the nervous duo. If looks could kill, Violet Sorrengail would be dead.

~

Thana and Liam watched the cadet ahead of them crawl through the threshold and onto the parapet. His arms were spread wide as he recited a prayer to Zihnal, the god of luck.

“Bring on the next one, Riorson,” Garrick called from where he was leaning against the opening in the turret. He avoided eye contact as he scribbled her name down on the scroll. If she wasn’t about to face certain death, she’d tease him for his solemn dedication to duty. But at that moment, all she could focus on was drawing air into her lungs.

Xaden stood behind her, and she felt the heat of his body penetrate her fighting leathers, “Don’t fall, Arcassian,” he murmured, “I still have a lot more to teach you.” He gave her shoulder a reassuring squeeze before returning to his post atop the stairs.

With a terse nod from Garrick and a steadying breath, she took the lone step out onto the parapet.

"See you on the other side," Liam's voice trailed from behind, but she couldn't bring herself to glance back.

~

She was halfway across when the boy in front of her lost his footing and fell into the ravine. She remembered what Xaden had written in one of his letters: The trials are physical but, the challenge is mental.

She knew Roman Halt; they had been friends since they were small, and she wondered if his brother was waiting for him on the other side. Thana shook her head to clear the thought and pressed forward, purposefully striding past the spot where he’d slipped, refusing to succumb to the temptation of looking down.

~

Garrick lingered by the threshold, his gaze fixed on the parapet beyond. A soft chuckle escaped him as he observed Liam's effortless stride across the dangerous expanse.

“Go on, Thana,” he whispered, a note of admiration in his voice. Even though she’d spent msot of her days locked up in the chambers of Lord McAllister’s estate, she had been training, and it was evident. Despite the times that the wind threatened to knock her into the ravine, she walked across with lethal grace.

He didn’t realise he was holding his breath until they both stepped off the parapet and into the Rider’s Quadrant.

With the rush of relief flooding back, Garrick's command pierced the air, "Next!" He quickly resumed his duties as Violet Sorrengail stepped up to the parapet.

~

As the Basgiath bells rang, Thana watched Garrick and Xaden join the other riders on the dais. She locked eyes with Xaden, who offered her a curt nod of approval before averting his eyes.

Thana stood vigil beside Liam as Captain Fitzgibbons read the names on the death roll. One by one, the names of the fallen were spoken for the last time at Basigath War College. 

She couldn’t get the image of bodies being dragged from the ravine out of her mind. She wondered if that was the same courtesy they showed her father in the wake of his execution. She refused to let the mundanity of the death roll dishonour the marked ones who had died, so she whispered a prayer for every one of them.

Lost in her thoughts, Thana barely registered Commandant Pancheck's presence on the dais. Her mind wandered to plans for vengeance against Lilith Sorrengail. She had crossed the parapet that morning with more weapons sheathed under her leathers than the King's Armoury, so, as Panchek’s speech drug on, she plotted General Sorrengail’s demise.

“My best advice? Don’t die,” Pancheck said before he left the dais.

As names were called for squad assignments, Thana observed the assembly of cadets scrambling into formation. 

Liam and Thana were called to the Second Squad, Tail Section, Fourth Wing and got into formation behind Exo Halt. They waited for the last cadets to be called before returning to face the dais.

The scorching sun beat down on the courtyard, making Thana's leathers uncomfortably warm. Restlessness gnawed at her as she struggled to maintain focus. Almost drifting into a daze, she was jolted back to attention when Nyra called Dain Aetos' squad to join the Fourth Wing.

A chill ran down Thana's spine when she realized Violet Sorrengail had been summoned to the Fourth Wing by Xaden Riorson. She needed to know why.

#xaden riorson #liam mairi #garrick tavis #violent sorrengail #imogen caludo #Rhiannon Matthias #fourth wing #fourth wing fan fic #fourth wing fan fiction

[caeli0306]

Violet POV chapter of TFTAB

I mentioned last week I think that I was going to write a Violet POV chapter of TFTAB, and now that I finished chapter 13 of Swan Song, I'm officially getting around to it. A lil unedited blurb below for those of you who I know love this fic as much as I do :)

---

Those eyes of his are trained on me, and I find myself fascinated by them, not for the first time. They’re so dark, they’re practically black, with flecks of gold throughout, and they only add to the unfair beauty of Xaden Riorson. He reminds me of a predator - all sleek lines, powerful muscle, and elegant features. He could be a model with those kinds of looks, but instead he’s committing treason.

My kind of man, I muse to myself without much thought.

I have no doubt in my mind that he knows who I am. I don’t have definitive proof, but something about the way he looks at me changed since he returned from the back of the plane. The intensity of his stare has a very familiar warmth coursing through my bloodstream.

I’m toeing a dangerous line between duty and desire here. My rational brain is telling me to either kill him and go on with my life, or spare him and pray to Zihnal he has the information I want. The less rational part of me is telling me to drag him to the airplane bathroom and find out if he’s as good at kissing as I think he is.

#caeli's fics #TFTAB #tales from the airport bathroom

[randombibitch]

As My Worlds Collide Ch.2

There’s a misconception that it’s kill or be killed in the  Riders Quadrant. Riders, as a whole, aren’t out to assassinate Other cadets…unless there’s a shortage of dragons that year or a  cadet is a liability to their wing. Then things may get…interesting. —Major Afendra’s Guide to the Riders Quadrant  (Unauthorized Edition)

Rhiannon gives her name to the rider at the opening of the parapet. Xaden continues to stare at us, but I refuse to look at him. Vi stiffens next to me and I squeeze her hand twice, we will make it through this, no matter what people think.

Dylan is probably around a third of the way before they wave Rhiannon through the opening onto the parapet. “I’ll wait for you on the other side,” she shouts over the wind, fear in her eyes.

“We’ll see you on the other side,” Vi responds and I nod in agreement.

She steps on to the parapet, arms stretched wide for balance, and starts to walk. I don’t really believe the gods help with anything, but I pray to Zihnal anyways. 

“Name?” the rider asks me, 

“Lia Melgren,” I say, the storm somehow becomes stronger, flashes of lightning almost right above us, cracks of thunder seconds later. The rain comes down in sheets and the wind pushes at me, almost as if it’s trying to throw me off the platform. The names on the roll are blurring with the water, and by the time the day is done it may be unsalvageable, gods know the scribes will hate that.

“Melgren?” The rider’s eyes shoot up. “As in General Melgren?” 

“Yep, and the girl behind me is Violet Sorrengail.” It’s no shock they don’t know who I am, and also probably don’t know who Vi is. I was kept a secret so that it wouldn’t get out that I was still alive, and due to Vi wanting to be a scribe her mother never fully acknowledged her in public. 

I look out, the clouds shroud the parapet, making it impossible to see past a certain point. I can vaguely see Rhiannon in the distance—probably about a quarter of the way—and how she keeps having to correct herself as the wind pushes her off balance. Moss grows along the stone, and the rain makes everything slick, and I wonder if General Sorrengail really did want Violet to die, she could have easily pushed away this storm.

“I am near” Taz tells me and I look up, scanning the mountain for her large form. 

I find her, mostly hidden between the rain and shadows cast by the clouds. “I will not fall. You should go before someone sees you.”

“It is tradition to have dragons watch the candidates cross.” she retorts.

“But it is not tradition for a dragon’s focus to only be on one,” I counter. “Or try and catch a falling candidate.” 

“I thought you just said you would not fall,” she says, “and I will repeat myself, you should not have to do this.”

“It’s not your choice,” I remind softly, and I hear a huff and see her shake up on the mountain.

“I didn’t know Melgren had a daughter, or that Sorrengail had two.” The other rider says, knocking me out of the conversation I was having with Taz. 

“We get that a lot.” I say, seeing Vi try and control her breathing. 

I glance back, offering a small smile before stepping out onto the parapet, waiting for a moment to get my bearings, before starting across. The wind tries to throw me off, but I push back and keep walking, if I stop, I’ll panic. 

I find my footing with each step, trying to make sure I put most of my reliance on my right shoe, the one with grips. I only slip once, but I stay upright. I wait a moment before looking back, just in time to see the asshole from before go to shove her. She lunges for the parapet before he can reach her, barely making it. I stop completely, allowing her to get closer, before starting to move again.

I’m pretty sure that she can’t hear me as I tried calling to her, but I trust she’s ok and keep moving. When the wind almost throws me over the edge, I can hear a growl in my mind but I ignore it and keep moving, quietly repeating my childhood rules, even though I don’t follow them anymore. 1. I was going to be a rider or die trying, true. 2 when I turned of age I would marry Xaden Riorson, false, he doesn’t know I’m still alive. 3. those who didn’t fight, died, true. 4. avoid Sorrengails, false. 

I look back again to check on Vi and I see her staring at something behind her, I focus my gaze on where she’s looking and I see the jackass from before throw the candidate behind him off the parapet, sending him to his death. Then he looks up, his mouth moving and he points at Vi before starting to quickly walk. Vi spins around, moving as fast as she can and I think about what I can do. Vi slips and the man nears her, finally she reaches me and I grab her.

“RUN!” I yell over the thunder that booms above us. The wind tries to throw us off but we don’t  stop, and I glance back to see him gaining more. I lower myself as close to the parapet as I can before slipping over, and Vi understands, careful to not step on my hands as she passes. I pull myself back up and risk a look back, he’s probably only 10’ feet away, but the wind is slowing him slightly.

Vi’s almost at the entrance to the entrance to the citadel, and I rush forward, trying to keep my balance while also going as fast as I can. Rhiannon grabs Vi as soon as she gets off the parapet, then her eyes meet mine and widen. I see Vi grab her knife, but she can’t do anything till I get off. 

“Will you scream?” Jack yells behind me, and he sounds so close I almost look back, but I don’t. 

Rhiannon and Vi are right at the edge, both on edge, and Rhiannon looks to me as if considering jumping back on the parapet.

“It will be so much more merciful if I kill you now, who knows how you’ll die if I don’t. Eaten alive by a dragon?  Killed on the sparring mat? Poisoned?”  He taunts. 

I’m close to the opening, racing in between the walls and he lunges, but I jump at the same time, causing him to have too slow to regain his balance. Dylan grabs me, keeping me from collapsing to the ground. I don’t hear him follow me off, and I look back to see Vi with a knife pressed into his breeches against his balls, and he has a look that could kill etched on his face.

“I think we’ll be safe for right now,” she says, somehow keeping her hand perfectly steady. 

“Will you?” he questions, the rain seeming to increase as we stand at the edge. But he doesn’t take another step.

“It is unlawful for a rider to cause another harm.” Vi starts and I roll my eyes, dropping my pack to the ground, still leaning on Dylan. “While in a quadrant formation or in the supervisory. Presence of a superior-ranking cadet,” she  hesitates a second swallowing, and Rhiannon glances at me and I shrug. “As it will diminish the efficiency of the wing. And given the crowd behind us, I think it’s clear to argue that it’s a formation. Article Three, Section—”

“I don’t give a shit!” He cuts in, moving, and Vi’s dagger slices through the first layer of breeches, I grin.

“Remind me never to get on her bad side,” Dylan mutters, and Rhiannon nods.

“I suggest you reconsider, I might slip.” Vi responds, shifting her stance.

“Do it,” I say under my breath, but she doesn’t react.

“Name?” the rider next to us asks, sounding bored as if it’s just another Tuesday. She looks us up and down like she’s shocked we made it across—which she probably is—and pushes her red hair behind her ear. Three stars are perfectly embroidered on the shoulder of her cloak—a third year. “You two are pretty small for riders, but I guess you made it.”

 Violet Sorrengail,” Vi says, not looking away from the jackass, tightening her grip on the dagger, “and the other girl is Lia Melgren,” thunder cracks above us. “And yes, that Sorrengail and Melgren.”

“Not too surprised, with that maneuver,” the woman says, writing our names on the scroll.

“And what’s your name?” she asks, glancing at the dude on the parapet.

“Jack. Barlowe.” He glares at us, a promise of pain in his gaze, and it makes me worry for Vi. I make note of it, if I get the opportunity to kill him, I’ll take it.

“Well, Jack,”  a male rider nearby says, glancing at all of us. He’s not wearing a cloak, and the rain soaks into his clothes. “Cadet Sorrengail has you by the actual balls here, in more ways than one. She’s right. Regs state that there’s nothing but respect among riders at formation. You want to kill them, you’ll have to do it in the sparring ring or on your own time. That is, if she decides to let you off the parapet. Because technically, you’re not on the grounds yet, so you are not a cadet. They are.”

“And if I decide to snap their necks the second I step down?” Jack growls, and I know it’s a real threat.

“Then you get to meet the dragons early,” the redhead answers. “We don’t wait for trials around here. We just execute. Especially since I’ve seen one dragon in particular already take an interest in Cadet Melgren.”

“What’s it going to be, Sorrengail?” the male rider asks her. “You going to have Jack here start as a eunuch?”

“What would I do Vi,” I call out. She glances back at me for a quick second before looking back at Jack. 

“Are you going to follow the rules?” she asks, tilting her head slightly.

“Guess I don’t have a choice.” He sneers but relaxes, showing he won’t kill us right now.

Vi steps aside letting him pass and I see him lean in. I can’t hear him over the storm overhead, but he says something to Violet that I don’t doubt is a threat.

Ch.1

#fourth wing #iron flame #violet sorrengail #violet x xaden x oc #xaden x oc #violet and xaden #violet x oc #tairneanach #andarna #sgaeyl #the empyrean

[skyfallscotland]

WE NEED MORE JEALOUS XADEN

This time with Violet (since you haven’t returned) has proved illuminating. She was more than happy to tell me all about your first week. Don’t think we won’t be speaking of it when I see you next. He had better keep his hands off you, or else—————

I laugh aloud at the line of scribbled out text.

I can’t believe I'm that unlucky that he's been put in your squad. It’s probably punishment for giving thanks to Amari more than Zihnal—he’s no longer on my side. It’s been a good run.

#basgiath (remi's version) #remi's version quotes #remi's version asks

[acourtcfmuses]

@inabcck | liked for Violet and Rhiannon

She supposed she had assumed Rhiannon would hate her as much as she hated Xaden for keeping his secrets. It was a double standard she was painfully aware off, but she couldn't get Xaden's voice out her head even now. If you can't lie to your friends, you keep your distance. Lying had felt wrong, even the selective truths. So she had pulled away.

The fact Rhiannon didn't hate her? It was almost anti-climatic. Thanks Zihnal that she didn't though. Losing Rhiannon completely would have been more painful than anything she had endured. "I promise to Amari, I will stop putting so many walls up." Xaden's way couldn't be her own. Violet needed those closest to her.

#inabcck #🗡 [ violet sorrengail ]

[bestbookfriends]

I can't help but think Liam's fate was sealed when Rhiannon said Zihnal was on Liam's side because he cheated death twice in war games.

💔RIP Liam

#fourth wing #iron flame #the empyrean #book thoughts #not quite shower thoughts #liam mairi

[deathendured]

✧    ⸻   [   evan roderick,  cis man,  he / him   ]     ;     welcome back to the riders quadrant,  AEDRYN SOPHMIR, we’re so glad to see you’ve survived for your  THIRD YEAR  !  you may be  TWENTY SIX  years old, but it’s your signet of  DEATH SENSE, and your proclivity for being  SHREWD  and  FLIRTATIOUS, that let you get this far. i see you’re just as  GUARDED  and  OBSTINATE  as you were before, rider. your dragon is the  female,  BLUE CLUBTAIL  dragon named  YLDRI, right  ?  rumor among the riders is that you remind them of  gloves made of dragon scales always worn on your hands, a charmed smile offered to anyone who may fall prey, & a crown that is your birthright as much as it is a death sentence, but who takes stock in that  ?  do try to stay in line, won’t you  ?    ╱    andie,  24,  she / her,  est.

BASICS.

full  name.  aedryn callum sophmir .

age.  twenty  six .

abilities.  death sense ; a tactile ability, he has the ability to touch a person and see how they're going to die, requires skin to skin and active channeling but he wears gloves to prevent it anyway .

residence.  riders  quadrant .

status.  single ;   unattached .

parents.  king oisin sophmir ( father ) & queen nerida sophmir ( mother ) .

siblings.  rian sophmir ( older brother, deceased ) .

dragon.  yldriaenoch ' yldri ' ; a female blue clubtail, as loyal as she is fierce, and every bit a dragon equipped for war, she very strong, which means that when he channels his signet it can be overwhelming .

languages  spoken.   the common tongue .

allegiance.  riders  quadrant .

APPEARANCE.

hair.   sandy blonde, sheered short on the sides but longer on top, always pushed back .

eyes.   light blue .

height.   six foot one .

scars.  minor ones scattered along his arms from sparring practice and years of training, but all inconsequential .

relics.   a blue dragon that snakes around his right bicep .

MISCELLANEOUS.

position. third year, section leader ( first wing, flame section ) .

strengths.   shrewd, flirtatious, composed, debonair .  

weaknesses.   guarded, obstinate, trouble - seeking .

aesthetic.   gloves made of dragon scales always worn on your hands, a charmed smile offered to anyone who may fall prey, & a crown that is your birthright as much as it is a death sentence .

BIOGRAPHY.

you are not the first born, and the crown you are born to wear is that of the spare. the back - up plan, should something ever happen to your brother. you spend half of your life praying to zihnal, the god of luck, that nothing ever does. but luck has never quite been on your side, now has it ? for years it is, of course, and your childhood is all propriety and life among the finest of navarre's forces. your father was a rider, like his father before him, and so of course it's expected for you and your brother to follow in his footsteps. you are no stranger to the rebellion, to conversations you should not be privy too and yet you are, and you watch it all unfolds like a tragedy you cannot tear your eyes away from. your brother is three years your senior, and he is a third year when the rebellion peaks, more aware of what goes on in battle brief than your father dares to let you overhear. he is a third year that is called battle; a rider, a prince, that dies in it. you become a cadet in the riders quadrant the next year with a newfound weight upon your shoulders. now, surviving the quadrant isn't just a hope, it is a necessity. your parents bore no other heirs, and the future of the kingdom relies on your ability to graduate from the very place that ripped your life upside down. expectation you have no choice but to succeed in. you've spent your whole life training for this, so it's no wonder that you come to succeed in the quadrant; undefeated on the sparring mat, one of the fastest times on the gauntlet. you don't just survive, you excel, you channel all that grief you have no way to tap into and it drives you on. perhaps it's why yldri chooses you on threshing, the way she sees the power that you are born with, the power you could hold for the future. your peers earn signets powerful in battle, brutal and unyielding, and yet when yours manifests you have to wonder if the gods are punishing you when you touch the face of the lover you'd invited into your bed, when you can see the way her body crumples on the rocky face of the mountains from losing her seat on her dragon. when it comes true, three weeks later. though most of it is brought on at will, letting your walls down only proves to make it easier for the magic to flow. at the urging of your father and the wielding professor, dragon scale gloves are made for you to wear every waking hour. if you cannot touch, you cannot see. you've worn them every day since, and they've not impaired your ability to be the perfect asset to your wing. it makes you guarded, though your reputation of flirting and charming your way into the hearts and beds of many is not made impossible, either, but you never let anyone get close — you can't live with the knowing and not being able to do anything. cruel, of the gods, to give you an ability that you could've used in desperate attempt to save your brother, if only you'd conscribed sooner.

#basgiath:intro #death mention tw #i mean his entire existence is kinda a death mention but thats nomb