A/N: This line in the book has haunted me since I first read it - and it goes nowhere. Violet never follows up with a single question. So...I had to dive into Fourth Wing and find a spot where it would work that Xaden could have gotten to her alone without her knowing, and it had to be early. I found ONE - Chapter 6, page 74. So I went for it.

Song rec if you're interested: "Wake Me Up" by Tommee Profitt, Fleurie.

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Either they see the errors of their weaponized ignorance or they don't.

- RECOVERED CORRESPONDENCE FROM FEN RIORSON (REDACTED)

Xaden

The evening air is warm and I undo the top button of my uniform before putting the churam cigarette out against the stone wall. I'd hoped it would help me relax, but other than the warm buzz in my head, I still feel just as shit as before. A door across the courtyard opens, and my heart freezes in my chest when General Sorrengail's youngest emerges from the mage lit interior.

A second passes, then another, and realization slowly dawns on me that she's alone as she turns toward where I'm hidden in the alcove between her and the entrance to the barracks. I can't help but to read her.

…do this again. And again. There has to be a better way to get stronger. Maybe Rhi can help? Then again, maybe Dain's right. I am not cut out for this place. I'll fucking die and Mom will just…

A blasting cocktail of emotions pounds my heart and tightens my chest at the mention of Lilith Sorrengail, and I narrow my eyes when the General's youngest passes by, unaware of just how much danger she's in.

The step I take behind her is involuntary, and my fingers tingle as they grip the handle of the dagger at my hip.

Sgaeyl intrudes, her voice unusually soft, "Scarred One, you made a bargain."

"With a Sorrengail. I'm not sure if it counts."

The prickle of tears in my eyes makes me even angrier as memories slam unbidden into my mind.

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~ I try not to show the sorrow on my face. To appear weak before these monsters will do us no favors. I feel them all behind me as we stand in a type of formation before a massive, newly-built stone dais. Many of them are crying, reaching out for their loved ones, but I hide the pain in my chest while staring into my father's eyes as Melgren reads the list of atrocities our parents, siblings, friends, cousins, uncles, and aunts are accused of. The lies that Navarre is willing to sacrifice us for.

My fist closes painfully around the runestone that I know we all clutch, and everyone on that dais knows it too. They told us to always have it with us - they said to always hold it - he said to never let it leave my side.

My eyes slip only once to Navarre's administration, and I see the frosty glare of General Sorrengail as she surveys her success. Her gaze meets mine and I don't flinch. I hope my eyes say what my heart screams: "I'll fucking kill you for this. One day…I'll ruin you."

"You're all cowards," my father says as Melgren's massive black dragon's head rears, mouth open, and flaring heat hits my face seconds before a different burn shoots from my wrist to my jaw from the suddenly hot runestone I cling to.

The piles of ash and bone that sit upon the rocky dais is all that's left of my father. ~

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A spear of grief lances through my gut and I look down to see the dagger in my palm and my shadows streaming around me, reaching for the General's youngest. She's a dozen steps away, head clouded by bullshit.

I take a step. And then another.

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~ General Sorrengail stands behind her ornate desk with a look of indifferent malice in her eyes, and as much as I want to pull the dagger from my boot and shove it into her beating heart, I clench my fists and stand at attention.

The guards to my left and right aren't stupid. They both have their swords out and I know they'd cut me down before I got to her - not to mention that she channels from a powerful dragon and could no doubt handle me herself.

"I was beyond surprised that Fen Riorson's son wished to see me - to offer me something. My intrigue is piqued. Speak, boy."

I swallow my rage, my sadness, my grief at seeing her again. I choke down the words I actually want to say and focus on what needs to be said. Like he taught me.

"I want you to give us a chance." Her eyebrow cocks, but that's it. "The marked ones deserve a chance, regardless of the war waged by our parents."

Her chuckle is…empty. "What chance do you feel you deserve?"

"The Rider's Quadrant. Let us fight for it."

I see the battle in her eyes. Her logical mind says 'no fucking way' while something else shines alongside it - opportunity?

"For most of us it'll be a death sentence. But hey - you won't have to bear the guilt of executing children if you agree, now, will you?"

Yeah, I heard from our foster family that Lilith Sorrengail, the Lilith Sorrengail, actually fought against our execution alongside our parents. This is our one shot. This is what my father would have done, and there's no one else. No one left to do this for all of them - just me. I'll be as strong - as ruthless - as they need me to be - as he needed me to be.

To my surprise, she comes around the desk, arms folded over her chest as she studies me with lethal precision. My concern is furthered when she sends the guards out of the room. They seem worried until they remember who the fuck she really is, and the door closes before she sends up a sound shield with lesser magic.

"Under one condition." Surprise burns a hole of hope in my heart. All I can do is nod.

"You, Xaden Riorson, owe me a favor. Anything I ask between your Conscription Day and graduation, if you survive."

What the hell could a Navarrian General need from me? I agree before I have a chance to figure it all out. Hey, surviving with this agreement means I'll have all the time in the world to figure it out, right? ~

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The General's youngest is ten steps away and my heart is hammering in my chest as a roar of blood dulls my hearing. I cling to the dagger as if it'll save me - tell me what to do. A haze of red sits at the outskirts of my vision and my shadows are halfway to her heels.

"You risk everything for revenge?" Sgaeyl. My voice of reason.

"Yes." I growl, the tears hot on my cheeks.

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~ "Deals have a price, Riorson. How do you plan on paying for this one? It's not like you're the heir-apparent of anything any longer."

With her hawk-like eyes clocking every move I make, I reach slowly down to my boot and extract a small throwing dagger. Warning flares in her eyes and I feel the temperature of the room drop several degrees until my own breath comes out as steam.

I flip it and pinch the tip, holding it in her direction. Offering it to her. "You're familiar with Tyrrish life bargains, are you not?"

It's her turn to be surprised and the scoff that leaves her lips is full-out doubt. "You aren't actually suggesting -"

My hands reach back and pull the tunic over my head, and I see her gaze take in the last three years of my hard work through training. "I'm of Tyrrendor and I will follow its customs. If you agree, I'll make the life bargain. One three-inch scar for a life."

"For you?" She scoffs again.

"For all of them." Her mock annoyance drops and she actually retreats a step, her eyes going from the knife I've given her and my unflinching, unyielding stare. She can tell I'm being honest, I know she can. She's a fucking bloodhound from what I hear. "Any betrayal will be as if I've done it myself. And if I betray this bargain…they are all forfeit."

I'm acting cockier than I feel - the dragons flying around my guts make me want to vomit, and it's all only being held back by sheer will, but I keep it off my face and school my features.

"Riorson - this is -" she pauses and I know she's doing the quick math in her mind to get to the number that none of us have ever forgotten.

"One hundred and seven." I stalk to her desk, my palms flattening against the cool wood as I lean forward,

In a move that goes against everything in my heart, I've given my greatest enemy a knife. Now I'm giving her my back. When nothing happens I look over my shoulder and meet her stare.

She hardens. "You don't have enough skin for that."

"I'm sure you will find a way."

Her lack of movement makes my nerves fray, but I do my damndest to hold any tremors of anticipation back.

This is what I came here for.

This is what's expected of me.

"Do you want something to bite down on?"

There's the General Lilith Sorrengail I know. Cold, calculated, merciless.

"No," the growl is torn from my throat as my knuckles turn white against the wood. ~

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The relic that takes every inch of skin across my back, every inch that bears a scar, pulses in time with my heartbeat, and it's like I can feel that fucking knife again. The knife she kept after she cut me.

My father's knife.

General Lilith Sorrengail's youngest is eight steps away, and my fingers ache with the driving need to wrap them around her throat and feel the pulse of her blood - her Sorrengail blood - slow and then stop against my thumbs.

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~ My back is ruined, the pain going through my body and into my soul, but I'm still upright. Still standing. My arms tremble as they hold me in position, the elbows thankfully locking halfway through so I didn't have to spend any conscious effort to keep myself from collapsing. The only sound that fills the room are my panting breaths as I fight to maintain my composure.

I will not lose this fight.

The tears come, I can't stop them and won't try. I'm not crying so I feel that's a bonus, but the pain drives them from my eyes to land one at a time on the wood of her desk, and I can feel the waistband of my pants soak up my blood.

She takes her fucking time, makes sure it's done right - a Lilith Sorrengail specialty.

I don't lose count - I stay with her through all one-hundred-and-seven. And only when her boots sound on the wood of the floor do I push to stand tall. My shoulders and back scream with the effort, but I tamp it down.

Our parents were burned for the truth - this pain is temporary. This pain is also a promise, it is also hope, for all of them. This pain is worth it.

I don't hide my tears, they weren't shed from weakness but from necessity, but I am shocked to my core when her cheeks are just as wet as mine, and I can see where they'd landed onto the top of her pristine uniform. Her eyes are no different than they were on that fucking dais - icy and calculated, and we stare at one another for long seconds as the blood from my back drips off the knife and her fingers to the floor at her feet.

"The bargain is struck." There is no thick emotion in her voice, contrary to the tears drying on her cheeks. "A favor, Riorson, to be named in the future, for the lives of the marked rebellion's children. At 20, they shall be conscripted into the Rider's Quadrant."

I don't thank her, merely stalk past her to lift my discarded tunic and fist it while waiting for her to drop the sound shield. The moment that's done I bang my fist on the door for my escorts to lead me out of Basgiath. ~

My revenge is only five steps away, and I've angled the dagger downward. I can make it quick - though I should make it slow. Perhaps carve into that delicate skin like her mother carved into mine.

I won't - I can't risk getting caught being the one to end the Sorrengail Basgiath line. I won't risk them for her.

I am silent. Shadowed. Death.

Anticipation, hope, expectation, guilt, and power all vibrate beneath the surface of my skin, but it's nausea that bubbles up from my stomach, raw and bitter, and my mouth waters.

Sgaeyl whispers, "a sign, my Scarred One."

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~ "I kind of wondered when you were going to haul me up here. Cutting it close, aren't we?"

This room, that desk, those eyes - this fucking woman. Gods I hate her. But this is my last fucking year at this place. Conscription Day is tomorrow and I'm in my third year. I almost made it out from under her thumb, but something tells me that this is the moment I've been expecting and dreading since I made the deal.

"Get out," she snarls at the guards from her plush chair, her hands organizing missives before she stands and comes around the side of the desk to face me. Her eyes take me in from top to bottom, and just the gaze makes my skin crawl.

"You get bigger every time I see you."

I glare down at her. "What. Do. You. Want." Ballsy, I know, but hey. If she wanted to kill me she already would have done it. And I'm not a powerless seventeen-year-old standing here ready to be sliced open - I'm a rider bonded to a dragon more merciless than even she is.

The temperature drops a few degrees as she crosses her arms over her chest, not backing down from my glare. I didn't expect her to.

"I'm calling in that favor."

"I figured."

"I need you to protect someone."

It's my turn to be surprised. "Protect? In this place?"

A flash of something crosses her face, and everything goes from unyieldingly hard to unyieldingly…less hard. "My…youngest. My daughter."

"The scribe?"

Her hard glare seals my lips for the moment. I may be a hard ass, but she is honestly scary as fuck.

"Tomorrow is her Conscription Day."

I can't help but roll my eyes. "She has nothing to fear from ink and parchment. Why the fuck do you think I could do anything to protect her when she's in a different Quadrant?"

"She's walking the parapet tomorrow - no child of mine will be a scribe."

My jaw actually drops. "Wait. You…you want me to protect a scribe you're shoving into the Rider's Quadrant? Are you…insane?"

"This is the bargain we struck." Her tone brooks no appeal. "This is my favor."

"It's an impossible favor. From what I hear, your youngest isn't exactly like her siblings. She's three feet tall and eighty pounds soaking wet. How the fuck do you propose I protect that when she'll have the Sorrengail name bringing in every assassin like a magnet?"

"I have faith in my daughter."

I sneer. "So does every parent, but you know exactly what will happen if you go through with this. She is already dead."

Another drop in the room's temperature, and I feel the bite through my uniform as my breath starts to show. Despite the physical warning, I continue. "I didn't think you'd be so eager to lose another child to this Quadrant."

I'm damn quick, but when the chill of her steel is against my throat a half second later, the bite of the honed blade ready to cut my head from my shoulders, adrenaline surges through my veins. The power flows through me and I can't help but wrap the shadows around her arm and force the weapon away from my neck in a move that surprises her.

Only after a flurry of heartbeats do I close the path to Sgaeyl's power and the shadows dissipate.

We stand at an impasse that I break.

"Everyone will want her dead."

"You will prevent that." It was an order, not a request.

My growl is low in my throat, "I have no clue how to do that. She will be broken on day one if she even survives crossing the Parapet. Her bones will snap like twigs with every opponent, and her size will kill her on the Gauntlet. You've sentenced your own child to death, General. I won't have you sentence all of us to the same fate because of your weak. Fucking. Daughter."

The step she takes to invade my space comes with frost that grows as blades of ice around my feet. "My daughter is not weak. She lives with more pain before lunch than you do in a week, and she has learned to conquer every problem without my coddling. If any of my children can survive this place, it's her."

The pride in her eyes is unmistakable, but this favor is what I dreaded.

"Everyone will wonder why I don't just kill her myself."

"Well then you will have to put your mastery of lying to good use, won't you?"

"This is a trap. You've given me something I will fail at so you can murder the Rebellion children. I might as well snap her neck myself so I get some pleasure out of the revenge."

The viciousness in her eyes holds the breath in my chest, but I hold and don't channel from Sgaeyl. "You keep Violet alive her first year, outside of challenges, Threshing, and her own…naivete, and your marked ones are safe after you graduate. Don't? And I will rebuild that stone dais."

The ease of which she threatens the lives of us all doesn't surprise me, and I feel dread settle low in my stomach.

"This was my unspoken favor. This is the life bargain you agreed to, Riorson. One life for one-hundred-and-seven. Seems a fair trade, does it not?" ~

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If I were to reach, I could have her.

It's not her fault - I know that. But crossfire happens. We're at war, despite the fact that she - that none of them know that. I feel hesitation as my shadows trail behind her molded into sharpened spears of death. I hold them back, but I don't know why.

I see her face, all…beautifully defiant looking up at me before she walked the parapet.

"You're General Sorrengail's youngest."

"You're Fen Riorson's son."

Her voice was so…unafraid.

I feel the anger billow back to the forefront. 'She should have been. She should be now.' My thoughts are ragged and sudden through my mind, and I feel sweat beading down the side of my neck following the swirling lines of my mark.

"You hesitate. Follow why." Damn it Sgaeyl - I don't want logic right now, I want to cling to my anger, my sadness. I know she isn't her mother. I know Brennan will never speak to me again. I know that she is…

I can't finish that thought.

'She - she is the key to ruining Lilith Sorrengail.'

My dragon sounds…sad. "And yourself."

'No. She is the one that can right the wrongs committed against them - the one-hundred-and-seven and their parents.'

Sgaeyl goes silent and I feel her retreat from our bond. It's my choice. Mine.

And I choose revenge.

The paths in my mind open fully and the burning relic at my back surges power through my veins. I want to know what her last thoughts are so that on that one day, that one fateful day, I can recite them to her fucking mother.

Because of what she did. To me. To my father. So I read General Sorrengail's youngest and her intentions. One. Last. Time.

…I'll fucking die and Mom will just - tell a stone with my name on it how disappointed she is. I've called her General more than Mom since Brennan died. She's never forgiven me for being born as my father's daughter…

The kick in the gut lands, and I wasn't ready for it. My blade is at the height of my chest and my strike would be perfect. She wouldn't feel a thing. Lilith Sorrengail deserves this because…because of what she's done.

To me.

To my father.

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~ "You remember what I taught you?" His armor shines in the early morning light as formation builds in the courtyard.

Navarre is on their way, and I'm soon to be dragged to Lewellen. Frustrated doesn't begin to describe the complex mixture of emotions in my chest, and I step forward one last time to plead my case.

"I can stay and fight, Dad. This is why you trained me, remember? You taught me how to fight."

I see the ire in his eyes mix with sorrow and loss, and the way his hand clasps the back of my neck and pulls me into his line of sight shocks me.

"No, Xaden. I taught you why to fight. Navarre will punish you for our revolution, and I will not leave you to those barbarians. Punishing the children for the sins of their parents is their way, but it is not our way."

"But, Dad -"

"Say it," it's a growled order from the leader of our military, not from my father.

"You raise your sword for the truth not in spite of it."

His pat to the back of my shoulders is harsh and makes me tip forward, then he pulls me close and presses his forehead to mine. "Don't ever forget that, Son. If you ever raise your sword against someone, you better damn-well do it for the right reasons. That's what I taught you." ~

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General Sorrengail's youngest continues her path to the barracks, and the door closes behind her with a thud.

The dagger in my hand shakes and I feel the hot streaks down my cheeks as I give into the frustration and shadows explode around me, shattering parts of the masonry and the nearest alcove bench in my fury.

The following moments are quieter, however, and I find my breathing settle deep and smooth in my chest. I feel a presence behind me and tense, but his voice and soothing familiarity only slightly turns my head in his direction.

"For what it's worth," Garrick starts, revealing his position opposite of the nearly shattered alcove, "you would have regretted doing what you almost just did."

"Would I?"

"She's innocent. Our parents taught us better than that."

My sigh is watery and there isn't anything I can do about that. "What if I'm tired of trying to be better?"

His hand hits my shoulder and squeezes, much like his father's used to do to Dad's, and fresh misery blends with the confused feelings still high in my chest. "You wouldn't have been able to do it, I know you. She's as trapped here as we are. She deserves to make it or fail on her own just like we do."

I know he's right. I know she's innocent, and I know that's why I kept hesitating. I just hate that revenge is so deliciously close.

"You don't want the revenge. You want the wrongs to be righted and the lies to end. Like your father before you."

The groan that pulls from my chest is almost mournful, but I know Sgaeyl is right - has been all night. The mistake I almost made would have doomed us all.

Violet Sorrengail isn't my enemy, and she is most assuredly not her mother.

…