My fellow Riders,
This story took shape in my mind as I was re reading Fourth Wing in anticipation for Onyx Storm. Actually, I had gotten the Graphic Audios (which I highly recommend, the cast is amazing!), which I was listening to on a trip to visit my family for the winter holidays. There were 3 flights including a transatlantic one, so I figured I was set with having my audiobooks! I was so enchanted with their rendition of Fourth Wing that I finished it before we even took off. I was sort of dreading starting Iron Flame because… well out of the 3 books so far, it isn't my favorite, and my first read had left a weird after taste…
So my idea began.
I would write a sort of rewrite of Iron Flame.
Or more precisely, I would start this story at the end of Fourth Wing and the Battle of Resson.
I spent the next 8-hour flight typing on my phone a rough draft of a story. My mom called me insance when I showed her the Note with 9000 words.
I finished Iron Flame, not finding it as dull as I did on my first read and tweaked some aspects to my fanfiction. I even typed out the first 3 chapters before New Years Eve. I debated with posting them… but decided to put it aside to see if the story still interested me after stepping away from it (trying not to create something I will get bored with in a few months and abandon) and I waited for Onyx Storm.
Well, as I am typing this, the third wonderful book of Rebecca Yarros has been out for 48 hours and I read it twice.
Now I am in a pickle.
Some of my predictions totally came through and I had already incorporated them in my story… but she managed to change my opinion on some characters. The main being Dain.
I wanted Sgaeyl to burn the man alive for so long, but now I am invested in his redemption story. Bastard!
So. I just spent a day wondering if I should scrap my story and ideas, tweak it to make it more canon or post it with my initial plot…
The second option won out. Maybe when this is finished I will hate this decision, maybe the next 2 books will make this story totally bizarre. Too bad, I don't care.
This is my story as it exist as of now.
This is the story of an injured Violet and a panicked Andarna who returned to Basgiath after the Battle of Resson, knowing nothing of Aretia and having to navigate the school and the war on their own.
The story happens 5 years in the future
Without further ado, this scribe will tell you her story.
- Captain Nell, a Shy Witch of the Riders Quadrant
It is a known fact that by demanding excellence from our cadets, we also cultivate their arrogance.
Overestimating oneself might be just as dangerous as underestimating your fellow rider.
~ Major Afendra's Guide to the Riders Quadrant (Unauthorized Edition)
Chapter One
Fighting the compulsion to reach for a dagger at my side, I clear my throat. Trying to teach history to a class of third years cadets about to graduate was about as productive as milking an expectant dragon. And just as pleasant.
"Whether or not you are paying attention, I am getting paid to talk. I know this information. If you feel you don't, good for you." I pull out my desk chair and sit in it. No other 25-year-old rider would ever feel the need to sit, especially a professor, but my hip had been killing me all day. Must have slept on it wrong last night.
A few cadet heads turn my way. Finally, some of them are paying attention to something other than the upcoming War Games. I take the time to raise one leg to rest on the edge of my desk, laying further back in the chair before raising the second leg and crossing my ankles on top of each other. At least I can get a bit of a stretch while I talk to these cadets.
"After all," I sigh dramatically – better they think of me bored of them than in actual pain, "all you care about is your future placements once you leave the War College," I take another big sigh, knowing I caught more students' attention when mentioning the placements "and that is decided with your War Games results as well as your final exams, both practical AND written."
I reach for a forgotten dagger on the edge of my desk to hide my next stretch. Once I have it, I recline against the back of my chair and start using the dagger to clean my fingernails with the point of the blade "If only you had teachers willing to tell you what you needed to know for those examinations."
Chatter from the left side of the classroom drew my attention.
Bryce Cordland, Second Wing, Tail Section leader was regaling her cronies with tales of her recent flight maneuver in her midland outpost mission.
'Would wishing she had died on that trip make me a bad teacher?' A gruff chuckle that could only belong to a dragon replied through the bond.
As natural as breathing, I simply flicked my wrist and let the dagger I was holding on fly out of my hand.
It landed perfectly between the third year's elbows, pinning her empty page of notes to the wooden desk underneath. With a squeak, she jumped out of her seat, staring daggers of her own to me, still lounging in my desk chair.
"What was that for?"
"Proving to your peers that you still have a lot to learn before graduation and not that much time left." With a nod of my head, I continued with my previous lecture about the Lucerian Infantry Movement of 428 AU –
"Like a failed rider like you has anything to teach us."
Cordland's jab was followed by the snickering of her peers. "After all, in a matter of weeks we'll all be the same rank, won't we, Lieutenant Sorrengail?"
A wry smile rose on my face as I stand from my seat. Stretching had felt good, but my left leg would soon go numb if I stayed in this position much longer. I walk a few paces before sitting again, this time squarely on top of my desk. Paper, scrolls and notes are haphazardly strewn about, long gone were the days I was training to become a scribe and keeping everything tidy and orderly for my superiors.
And long gone also were the days were I needed to prove myself to be in this fucking quadrant.
"A very good point, Cadet Cordland. We will all be the same rank soon when you leave Basgiath to go to your appointed posts." I nod in thought. All this was purely for show, but after years of performing for overly arrogant riders, Cordland and her minions were easy prey.
Using lesser magic, I pull down a string to lower one of the maps of the continent hanging on the right wall of my classroom. Not as impressive as the giant beast hanging in Battle Brief, and not up to date, this one was used to show the students the historical evolution of Navarre throughout the years. Multiple other maps were also hanging depending on the era we were studying, but this somewhat contemporary one was the one I needed to make my point.
"Tell me, Cadet Cordland, where do you expect to be sent in a few weeks?"
"Samara Outpost," she replies immediately, smirking at me.
Her peers started chattering between themselves. That outpost was about half a day's flight at top speed from Basgiath and not a place where new recruits were often sent to. For Cordland to want to be sent there… was it bravado? Or maybe she knew of the death rate and expected a faster track to make Captain of her own riot. In any case, it was my job to teach these younger riders enough to keep them alive in this death college, so I had to reign in my anger and violence and do my fucking job.
"Alright then, let's switch our focus on Samara today then." Groans were heard all around the room, but I refused to let that distract her.
This third-year class was my hardest. All of those cadets had started in the college right after my own graduation. They literally crossed Parapet seven days after I was made Lieutenant and been told my assignment would not be the Rivenhold outpost in Elsum with my squad but right here in the school.
These cadets had been my first class ever when they joined the quadrant – when I was a bumbling untrained teacher thrown to them because no other riders wanted this post. These cadets sitting in front of me bored today only saw me as a failed rider and a failed scribe, and even 3 years later, I had never managed to gain their respect. Not that I cared about that anymore.
Though I still missed last year's graduates. They had been first years cadets and, in some cases, in the same wing as me as I finished my own training in the college. Most, if not all of them had at least seen me in action in squad games or on the mats… Sure they sometimes saw me as their peer instead of their superior, but it sure as heck was better than this band of overinflated arrogant bastard who decided to look down at me on day one.
Thank the gods I had learned to take control of my classroom before the following year of cadets ever stepped foot in here.
"Let's run a scenario, Cadet Cordland. Your riot captain sends you to oversee an infantry pass on the Braevick border, 50 leagues North of Newhall with 2 other riders of the outpost. You have 4 days to cross the Esben mountain range before detection from a rare high altitude gryphon flyers patrol. Want to show us how you'd lead your troops?"
I gesture for her to go to the map but the smirking third year did not bother with getting up and used lesser magic of her own to show her strategy on the map. I let her speak for 5 solid minutes before finally cutting her off.
"I would applaud you for your strategy so far." She starts to speak with a proud smirk on her face before I raise my hand, "But this is exactly what Captain Sorrengail did 3 years ago after being stationed in Samara for a few months-"
"Guess I'm ready to be promoted to Captain, then." She cuts me off, crossing her arms, but I keep going like I have not heard her.
"And how she lost a full company of Infantry, and a rider lost his dragon." And his life, which went unspoken.
Silence had never been louder as my words found their marks in the cadets. Cordland had visibly blanched as had done more than a few of her peers.
In the second row, by the window, Lenore Pardis, a marked girl with half her head shaven, raised her hand. "Professor, what exactly happened to them?"
I smile at the quiet girl. If teachers were allowed to have favorite, Lenore would be mine. I allowed myself a second to reminisce about – no!
Shields firmly in place, shoulder back and head held high, I get up from my seat on the desk and start retelling the battle report from the Samara incident which had slowed down Mira's promotion to Major by almost two years and almost cost her her arm.
I stopped a few times to answer questions and offer some questions of my own. Most if not all the cadets were now invested in the lecture. Cordland's pinned notes were still blank.
They were my last class of the day and when I finally look up at the clock, I realize I should have dismissed them a while back. "You should be going to the flight fields, I think the first years should be done by now so you might have an hour or two of daylight left." The stampede that left my classroom made me cringe. Those were the new recruits we were setting loose on the continent. Dunne, give me strength!
I was their history professor, sometimes helping around in war tactics, dragon culture and geography when my knowledge and signet could be of use. But I drew the line at reigning in undisciplined riders, Deverra could get those mongrels to be orderly if she wanted.
I tried to get my documents in order to pack up for the day, when I noticed Lenore hanging back. No backpack needed to be repacked this slowly or meticulously.
"Anything I can help you with Pardis?"
The cadet met my eyes and rubbed her hand on the side of her neck. I walked to the door and locked it, activating the ward against eavesdroppers as I did so. I turn back to her and raise an eyebrow, crossing my arms. She retrieved my thrown dagger, still planted on the piece of paper Cordland had 'used' for her class notes. The word cunt was written on it, but I only balled the paper and threw it away.
"I managed to deliver the weapons to Summerton."
"How? You were stationed in Elsum!"
"After we did the patrol for the officers who left for the front, I snuck out-"
"That was very dangerous of you Lenore!" My heart was beating twice as fast thinking of all the possible outcomes which could have led to her being discovered or worse, led to her death. "Not only you must have flown a similar path than the active officers at the border but the window-"
"I made sure all the other cadets were fast asleep and Toran made sure to fly higher than any patrolling riders." The girl ran a hand through her hair. She had suffered a very bad burn to the face in her first year, making her lose half her hair. Instead of pleading with Nolon to mend her, she had only asked the healers to help her minimize the scars. Her hair had started to regrow in patches but she proudly shaved half her head. It made the olive shinned girl look bad ass, even in a school of dragon riders. But she never lost her gentle nature, something Violet tried to protect as much as possible.
"Lenore, you promised me you would not run drop offs without a partner anymore."
"I had a window of opportunity and I took it!" The third year lifted her chin in defiance, not that gentle today, apparently.
"Listen, I am happy nothing wrong happened and damn proud of you. It takes guts to do solo drops like that in the mountain range," her dark eyes shone with deserved pride. "But no one is above making mistakes. Going in pairs ensures you have someone watching your back but can also give you an alibi."
Gods knew, even Violet's own squad had used the old romantic rendez-vous alibi when they were nearly caught flying out.
"And if Freyd had been assigned with us we would have gone together, but he was sent to Montserrat so we decided I would deliver the weapons alone."
The third years assignment had been organized so fast by Colonoel Aetos, I did not have the chance to meddle to protect the marked ones like I usually did. Too many of them were still being picked on or worse picked off, making a mockery of the codex when one was killed in the showers or their dorms. But this was Basgiath, you needed to fight to see graduation alive and few actually made it. Even fewer if you reached Conscription Day with a Rebellion relic.
"With the War Games starting in few weeks, I need you to keep your head low. All of you." She starts to complain but I only raise one hand to cut her off. "You'll soon be graduating and be sent out there," I gesture out the window as if the war front was just behind the glass. "Mairi, Revan and Derleaf were all sent to dangerous outposts, just because leadership wanted to shut them up. You know what is out there and trust me that is not an advantage, because they know you know! And they NEED to shut you up."
I sigh as I start pacing. Revan and Derleaf had started Basgiath the year after me, in Second Wing and I had never been as close to them as I had become with Sloane.
Sloane.
Liam's little sister had hated my guts so much at the beginning she would challenge me at every opportunity. She was the only marked one of her class still alive today. I made sure of that.
And I'd protect Lenore just the same.
"Sgaeyl's rider risked his life for the 107 of you. There are less than 63 of you still alive and accounted for today."
"I know the numbers," she says, staring straight at me. She may be nicer than Imogen by leagues but in their hearts, those two girls were from the same Tyrrish cloth.
A beat of silence stretched between us.
"Cadet Cordland is right that I am not much more than a failed rider –"
"She does not know what she is talking about." She jumped on my defense.
I smile appreciating it. I walk up to her and in a rare show of affection, reach up to embrace her. Damn Tyrrish riders and their tall genes. I run my hand my hand in her thin dark hair.
"There is not much I can do, but please let me do what I can." I release her and take a step back, my hand still on her shoulders. "I'll take any name calling from anyone if I get the chance to see you, any of you, march off after graduation, your head held high. And we both know we'll be much more able to help the movement when there are more marked riders out there, free to fly those deliveries and reports."
"What will you do next year, when Freyd, Carmin, Oslo and I will be posted out."
I smile ruefully. "Like I don't already have a new little firedrake in the wings, ready to take over for you Pardis. Now. Go on to your riot so your absence is not noticed and please," I stare intently in her eyes, "please! Keep your head down until graduation."
I watch her leave my classroom and I finally pack my own stuff.
I had unconsciously started my own rebellion in Basgiath on Conscription Day. That time in my life was still a jumbled mess and blurry but I had gotten up from the Healers Quadrant to Ridoc waiting by my bedside telling me about the new first years. I went up to Parapet in a daze, just in time for Sloane Mairi to give her name to Rhiannon.
The girl looked so much like Liam that I had burst in tears and took her in my arms.
She almost pushed me off Parapet for that one.
I was told later that I had fixed her hair and retied her shoes and made her promise to join our squad before I let her make the dangerous walk over before passing out in Rhiannon and Ridoc's arms.
My next wake up was less pleasant.
But since that day, whether they wanted to or not, I took care of the marked ones and with Sloane's later help, we had restarted the weapons drops to the Poromiel and Tyrrendor borders. Becoming a professor had been a blessing in disguise on that front, it was much easier to get my hands on daggers from fallen cadets, add them to the forge rotation and then send out alloy daggers with Second and Third years on "official" assignments.
I missed my squad every day.
I miss a lot of people every day.
But I will keep making a difference until I am reunited with them or Malek.