I start my research on the wards, and when I have a good handle on what's needed, head out to the infantry amphitheater we've been granted use of. It's fucking cold here, but that will be motavation to get these wards up faster, and I spend just about all day working on it. Being sure to channel from sgaeyl, starting with the weather.
A weather shield isnt uncommon, but I've never done one, so it takes most of the afternoon the day after I retrieved the books and by the time I have the temperature stabilized within the bounds of the amphitheater, Bodhi comes up to meet me, shrugging off his flight jacket and passing me a sandwich he must have taken from the dining hall. The moment I see it, I realize I'm starving.
"Thanks," I tell him, accepting the food and sitting on the stone steps.
"No problem. The wards are nice," He adds, looking at the melting snow within the pit of the theater.
"Thanks, I think I finally have the first bit sorted," I say after taking a bite. "Sgaeyl would always bug me third year for not studying for my weaving class... As usual, she may have been right."
He laughs, and I ask him about the midland posts he's been at, which he's apparently enjoying.
"It feels like third year is such a waste. Especially with the wards failing in Aretia. I could be—"
"You wont be in Aretia, not when the wards are fucked," I tell him, obvouslly.
"I'm not afraid of the front," He argues.
"I didn't think you were, but you're still a cadet. You won't graduate for another six months; by then, the wards will almsot certainly be entirely gone if we haven't found the irids to get them to fire the stone. You'll be stationed at a midland post like any other first–"
"Except you and Garrick," He points out. "You two were sent to the front. So was Masen."
"Yeah, and Masen died." I remind him. "And you're the heir to Tyrrendor now. It sucks doesn't it?" I tease.
"I'm not the heir. I was never the heir, I'm the rider. You shouldn't even be here," he points out, referencing the well-established plan of my fathers, that I would go into infantry like every other aristocrat, and then be the duke... Or the king if his rebellion worked out. Bodhi was going to be the rider; he always wanted to be a rider, and the family has always had someone in black, so his mother accepted it too.
Until the rebellion.
"That plan got fucked when everything literally went up in flames, sorry– I'll add it to the list of things to talk to my dad about when I meet malek."
Except I won't. Because my soul will never be at rest…. Fuck.
"I should be able to defend Tyrrendor," he argues. "Obviously, I'll be stationed at Aretia. And you wont have shit to do with where my stationed, Melgren will–"
"If you think I'm going to let Melgren risk your life–"
"I risk my life every day. Just like you do."
"Yeah, and it hasn't worked out great for me if you've forgotten."
He doesn't like that. He's quiet for a moment, clearly annoyed but not wanting to argue. Probably because Garrick or Violet told him that I need to remain calm. The thought of him walking on eggshells around me so I don't channel… of any of them doing that… it may have the opposite effect.
"Just… get Violet pregnant or something. I don't want to be–"
"Yeah, let's not talk about Violet like that." Why is this the second time this week that someone has referenced me and Violet having a kid? I used to like the thought. But now… now I won't be able to be a real father, not being venin. Plus, there's the other thing.
"Oh, because you haven't thought about it."
"I try not to, thanks, considering how I… can't"
"What do you mean you can't think about it?" he asks, rolling his eyes. "You've obviously thought about it. You can't say you haven't imagined an army of freakishly tall scribes running around Riorson's house with weird multicolored eyes like their mother– not after The Assembly spent last year going on about you and Cat."
"I don't mean I can't think about it, I mean I can't… I have to…" Fuck. "Violet won't be getting pregnant. I can't risk channeling."
He's quiet for a minute again, and I fucking hate this.
"And here I was, just thinking she got better at not setting things on fire," he teases me, and I punch him in the arm.
As the week goes on, I've been avoiding Violet so much, keeping her blocked from my mind, so I dont ruin everything by accidently channeling and fucking her on one of the tables in the dining hall… or something– that I almost didnt notice it when I get to dinner, sitting down with Emetterio. But of course, like a magnet, my eyes find the table where second squad is sitting, and Rhiannon and Sawyer look like they're lecturing an annoyed Ridoc while Maren laughs at them and Cat and Trager whisper together.
Violet isn't here.
I lower my shields enough to sense her, and she's in the quadrant. But further away.
"I'm surprised to see you, Riorson," Devera comments, sitting down with us. "Aren't you on the task force?"
"Yes– what about it?" I ask. Is it something with the task force? That's where Violet is.
"They're having a meeting in the hall across from Gradys office I think," She says. "I had to excuse Cadet Binehaven from an outpost rotation because of it."
"For fucks sake," I mutter, setting my shit down and standing up from the table.
"Well, he certainly got over thinking of us as his professors quickly," Deveral says, apparently commenting on my language.
"No. He would say shit like that all the time when I was still his professor," Emetterio confirms, takes an amused bite of his food.
"They just really don't want this task force to go fucking anywhere…" I keep muttering, picking up my tray and walking away to dispose of it without saying goodbye.
"You're in a task force meeting?" I ask Violet.
"Yes, where are you?"
"I wasn't invited. Devera just told me at dinner."
"Did they really think that would work?" She asks, sounding annoyed. "It's in the academic wing–"
"Yeah, on my way," I confirm, walking through the halls, keeping my shields lowered. Minutes later, Violet reaches out again.
"Please tell me you're almost here," She asks.
"Climbing the stairs," I promise her, and within the minute, I reach the door. My new skills with warding, thanks to all the work on the pit- as I'm referring to it, let me unweave Grady's pathetic attempt at keeping someone out in the next minute, and I swing the door open, walking in.
Everyone turns to look at me, but it's as if Violet was already watching the door. Which she probably was, being able to sense me outside.
It's only been four days since I saw her in Kaoir's office, but just looking at her… it feels like it's been an eternity.
"This is a closed meeting," a Lieutenant says, apparently thinking I give a fuck.
"I forgive you for failing to invite me," I reply, sitting next to Violet.
"We're not taking a separatist—" the lieutenant starts. He sighs so aggressively that I almost want to apologize to Jesinia, who's taking notes in the room, for his raised voice.
"You already are," Violet says, smiling at him, and Jesinia most definitely laughs.
"We can waste time arguing," I say, "or we can just agree that Tairn isn't going anywhere without Sgaeyl and move on."
Quill scratches across parchment as Jesinia quickly takes notes, but she's smirking in amusement, and I consider how annoying the quill must be for her. Riders can use pens with lesser magic because we can control the flow of the ink. I wonder if there's a rune I could find and temper it into a pen so she can use it…
I need to think of something nice to do for her. She's the only scribe assigned to the most research-heavy project in Navarre– with some of the highest consequences if she doesn't do it right.
"Fine," Grady says. "Cadet Neilwart, please add his name to our roster." He glances down the table. "Everyone here has been chosen for this mission because I trust them. Make your introductions if you haven't."
"Captain Henson," A woman with tightly woven black braids replies. "Air wielder."
"Lieutenant Pugh." The man next to her says, "Farsight."
"Lieutenant Foley," the annoying one who tried to kick me out says. "Agrarian."
"Cadet Beinhaven," Aura says as if she didn't spend her first year in my wing. "Fire wielder."
"Lieutenant Winshire." the women with strawberry blond hair smiles. She sits in for the royals in the Senarium. She's here too? "Infantry liaison," she explains. Which I'm going to consider code for she's a spy for Tauri.
"Lieutenant Riorson," I reply. "It's like he pulled a list of the most common signets and started choosing names," I add to Violet only.
"And there are no fliers or Aretian riders. Doesn't exactly speak to the spirit of alliance," she replies.
"Why no shield signets?" I ask Grady. "Clearly, we'll be out beyond the wards unless you think there's an entire den hiding within Navarre's borders that the Empyrean doesn't know about."
"You were able to hide one," Foley snaps.
"Thinking the Empyrean wasn't aware for six years tells me all I need to know about where you and your dragon's priorities are," I tell him.
"Stop," Grady orders. "And I've asked General Tinery for a particular shield wielder. Just waiting on a response."
I lower my shields, checking their intentions. Winshire seems fine, glad to be included. She's hoping to impress the royal family somehow. Pugh and Foley may as well be spies for Melgren, almost nothing in their mind shows care for actually finding the Irids, Henson seems alright, though not impressive, and Binehaven fucking hates Vioelt and me. She never liked me, but seriously, this level of anger isn't healthy– and from me, I feel like that's saying something.
Grady is… odd. He wants this mission to succeed. He sees the importance of it, but he can't seem to imagine a world where we're all dead, so he doesn't have the right sense of urgency, and a bit like Winshire, is hoping this will get him promoted.
No one gives a fuck about any of the real objectives.
It looks like Grady did ask for Mira; that's who he's waiting on Tinery for, but the general doesn't want to give up her signet on the front. He didn't even consider pulling in favors. He doesn't want to anger the general. He'll risk the mission to stay friendly with Tinery trying to rise to fucking Major?
Idiot.
"You could just ask me. Mira Sorrengail is the only rider proven beyond the wards, and she's stationed in Aretia." I point out.
"Which is the Southern Wing and clearly under the command of General Tinery." Pugh comments.
"Except for Tyrrendor, which as of the Second Aretia Accord now falls to the reigning house… Well, really Ulices and Suri, but they answer to me."
"Have to say, the casual flex of power is pretty hot." Violet teases.
"Don't… I'm barely keeping my hands to myself as it is. If you knew how often I think about sneaking into your room…"
"Is this what I can expect, Lieutenant Riorson?" Grady asks," You pulling title into military matters? There's a reason aristocrats don't wear black."
"Happens more often than you think," Violet mutters, signing to Jesinia, who I notice doesn't write down her side comment. But they do share a smile.
"Depends on how those matters are handled," I tell Grady, feeling my mind cool. I fight to keep calm and not let my emotions pull me onto the ice, and only feeling Violet's worry for me through the bond thaws it.
Fuck. I need to stay. Calm.
"You and I are going to have problems," Captain Grady says. Possibly trying for a threatening tone.
"Probably." I nod.
Grady reddens slightly, but only slightly. "As we were saying. We've been given six months to find the seventh breed. The Senarium has ordered that we report back between searching potential sites to keep them informed—"
"What a fucking waste of time," I say to Violet..
"—which means selecting our first search areas within easy flight," Grady continues.
"Just wait, it gets better," Violet says, fiddling with her pen. "I miss your hands."
"Same," I say, fighting the urge to look at her, instead looking at the large map on the wall. But I do let my shadows curl up her leg, teasing her thigh. "And your mouth, especially if that's all I'm allowing myself."
Gods… that mouth.
"And I've chosen to begin along the northward coastline," Grady finishes.
My brows rise. Is he fuckign serious? North?
"Told you it got better."
"Why?" Captain Henson asks, definitely the best of the group so far.
"Basing our operation at the coastline gives us access to magic. Plus, the Emerald Sea is largely unexplored—"
"Because sailors don't return from the deepest waters," Henson responds, making a decent point. Then actually looks at Violet. "Where would your dragon like to search?"
Fucking finally someone asks Violet.
"Cadet Sorrengail isn't in charge," Aura interrupts.
"You're only here because I chose not to kill you for going after my wingleader," Violet replies, and Aura's eyes narrow. "This is a mistake. The only people I trust in this room are you and Jesinia, and she's reporting the missions after we return, not going on them."
"Agreed." I say, "Mira should add some balance, but not enough."
"The last known communication we have with any isle kingdom is Deverelli," Violet starts. "From what I've read, the merchant isle trades in more than goods. If there's information to be had there, we can buy it for the right price. We should search all possible avenues, not just the north."
Jesinia nods.
Everyone across from us starts speaking at once. Fucking great.
"They'll kill us if we go there."
"Splitting our forces weakens the squad."
"Dragon-haters, all of them."
"If the dragons were on the isles, one of them would have bragged."
"Or used them in an assault," Violet adds, catching my attention.
"What do you know?" I ask, still stroking her inner thigh with shadows, wishing it was my tongue.
"Records of the second Krovlan uprising have been ripped out of General Cadao's journal, and Jesinia thinks an officer hinted that an isle kingdom was involved hundreds of years after we severed contact. General Aetos asked me about my father's research on the subject last year—"
"Feathertails… I vaguely remember him mentioning something about it on our way to the flight field."
"Exactly. Dragons mentioned with isles tell me we should look south." Violet says, as the others keep arguing, "I don't know the contents of Dad's research, but I do remember him suddenly going secretive with it about six months before he died. If he'd wanted Aetos or Markham to have it, he would have left the information in his Archives office."
"As opposed to?"
"It's in their quarters… General Aetos's quarters. Don't worry, Dain's agreed to help me find it."
I flinch. "'Don't worry' and 'Dain' do not belong in the same sentence."
"Silence!" Grady shouts, "Aside from already provided logic, Deverelli requires too high a price for an audience. South is not an option," he says to Violet, then turns to Henson. "And as for the Emerald Sea, perhaps dragons are the reason sailors don't return. Until further notice, assume we will fly northward in the next month. Prepare your supplies. This meeting is adjourned."
"Stay," I ask, "I'd kill for thirty seconds with you."
"Absolutely."
We wait as everyone packs up their things and leave, but fucking Beinhaven is standing at the door, staring at Vioelt.
"Yes, Aura?" Violet asks.
"Just waiting to escort you back to the quadrant." She looks at me. "Wouldn't want you getting in trouble or doing something I'd have to report to General Aetos, seeing as Grady chose me as your companion and all."
"Do you mean Panchek?" She asks.
"Aetos made it clear to the wingleaders that the Code of Conduct is to be followed to the letter. Naturally, we've passed that order down through the chain of command. Turns out there are lots of us happy to make your life as miserable as possible."
Well, at least she's not trying to play coy.
"Great," Violet says, sounding about as frustrated as I am. Which somehow makes me want her more.
She rises from the table, and I let my shadows fall from her.
"We'll get time," I promise as she leaves..
"You're safe here. That's all that matters." She says as I raise my shields again. It's not all that matters. Violet is all that matters.
Fuck this is hard.
The day before my first class I'm in the archives, studying signets with Jesinia while she's doing… whatever the fuck she's doing.
After Sloane made her feelings about me clear, I didn't want to request any specific books to be sent up to my room again, so coming down here seemed like a good way to talk to Jesinia and prepare for class.
The elemental signet thing Jesninia was talking about regarding the first six gave me some good ideas for how to teach, too. If most signets– or at least signets that aren't mind signets– have an easy element to associate it with, I can identify how that element behaves, then it should make it significantly easier to understand how to defend against a signet– even if I'm unfamiliar with how it's wielded, specifically.
I'm not a scribe, though, and spending all this time studying is exhausting. Somehow more exhausting than if I was spending my time in the gym like I thought I would be. At least it's distracting. I still feel the power, I still want the power. But it's nice to have my mind occupied by something else.
Jesinia gasps, and I look up to find her looking at me.
"What is it?" I sigh.
"I think I've figured out the key differences between Brennan's rune and the wyvern stone." She tells me, and I set my book down. That's… big. "We were right. Brennan's rune connects his life to his dragon. What's been tricky was, the runes for the connection and the transfer of power are the same, but after Sawyer altered–" She paused. "I mean after Violet altered the wardstone–"
"I know Violet didn't melt the iron in the stone. I might be on the Senarium, but I'm not going to get your boyfriend arrested. Plus, he was pardoned too," I remind her.
"I wouldn't call him my boyfriend… not really," she blushes.
"Right," I smirk at her.
"But anyway." she begins again. "The rune he damaged was one to represent gryphons… they also damaged another rune I haven't identified yet, but I'm pretty sure it was a connecting rune, connecting the gryphon magic to the magic of the stone. But basically, knowing that there was an individual rune that was specific to gryphon magic made me consider the specific rune for dragons… and that seems to be one of the key differences between the wyvern and brennan. The wyvern's runes are about control; they are controlled by the wielder, by whomever tempers them. Brennan's is not control but connection. And specifically to a dragon."
"So… a rune can connect someone to a dragon, making them only channel from that dragon?" I ask, my hope starting to rise.
"Well, that I haven't gotten yet." She clarifies. "You can be connected to a dragon, but Brennan channels through his relic, not through the rune. The rune reverses that connection, so it's circular. Brennan wields through his relic but lives through the rune. If that makes sense?"
"Yes, I think so." I sign. "So basically, I could be connected to Sgaeyl, but because I can channel... Extracurricularly, it wouldn't specifically stop that."
"Correct, but that's where the Wardstone comes in. The wyvern rune was more simple than any of the others. Brennan's and the protection rune are significantly more complicated, so I'm still working on those. And cross referencing as I go with the wardstone."
"Got it," I say. "That's really incredible, Jesinia. Great work"
"Thank you," she says, but she's chewing on her lip nervously and doesn't look back at her work like she normally would.
"What is it?" I ask.
"Brennan and Naolin…" she starts. "Naolin died powering his rune. General Sorringail died to power the wardstone… the rebellion relic was triggered by fire on the occasion of a rider's death, a rider with power of their own." She lists, and I'm not loving where this is going. "I'm worried that I'll find the rune to stop your progression, but it will require too much power to temper."
I falter. That's a very good point.
"Could I…" I start but immediately regret my train of thought.
"I don't think so," she says, knowing I was going to suggest channeling from the source to power it before it cuts me off. "I don't think you'd be able to temper it on yourself at all… "
"But what about putting it on a stone like for the rebellion–" I stop and realize the error. "But the stone needed the trigger. It was the power created by my father's death, wasn't it?" I ask.
"I think so." She confirms, "I'm not totally sure yet but yes... Your father is literally still protecting you, his essence imbued into the stone you were holding, lives in your relic…" She explains. That's a little heavy…
"I was considering speaking to Sloane," Jesnina says. "She has archives duty, and I see her sometimes… but… I'm not sure what to tell her. If a siphon needs to power it like Naolin… "
"Sloane will not die," I say. "Not for me. Not for anyone."
"Of course." She confirms. "But I think she needs to train. She'll need to be strong. And well… with my… relationship with Liam… I don't think she knows about me at all. Liam wasn't allowed to write to her during his first year, and I feel a little awkward talking to her. Would you be able to—"
"She kind of hates me," I tell her. "I'd be glad to talk to her, but she's probably be more receptive to you."
She nods, looking thoughtful.
Her referencing my father, though, reminds me of speaking with Bodhi the other day, and my anxiety spikes. She must sense it because she looks back at me, her eyes questioning.
"If this is possible, if the progression is stopped. I still… I still wouldn't be cured." It's not really a question, but I'm hoping for an answer anyway.
"Your soul?" she asks, and I nod. "I don't know." She says simply.
The next day, I wait in the ampatheater for first and fourth wing squads to arrive, because of fucking course, my first class is with Violet.
I'm fairly sure Devera determined the schedule and did this on purpose.
They start to file in, and I catch Violet looking at me, her eyes unsubtly raking over my body, and I fight back a smirk. Gods… it was hard enough to spar with her all last year… now… literally in front of everyone… This is going to suck.
I reach out to her through the bond as she sits with her squad, pulling off her flight jacket in the heat of the wards, and for the briefest of moments, I consider seeing if I can make it hotter… but that would be a mistake. Probably.
She lets me through her shield,s, and it feels like home, my mind welcoming hers.
"I've missed you," I say, eating up everything about her with my eyes. Fuck she's beautiful.
"Same," she says, revealing her sparring gear, making me remember how every perfect line of that body feels against me… "Is this where you've been hiding out?"
"Welcome to your first session of Signet Sparring, in what I like to call the pit," I call out to the class. "Those who can wield, keep your feet on the rock but—and I cannot stress this enough—off the mat. Those who cannot, take a seat in the first row." I explain, gesturing to the appropriate area behind the older cadets. "If by hiding out, you mean constructing incredibly complex wards that might make even your sister proud, then yes. And it's not like you've been accessible. Bodhi says you're either reading with Andarna as a backrest or wielding alone in the range."
"I spend a lot of time in the library, too." She comments, stretching. I know she spends time in the library. I made sure my time there didn't coincide with hers because watching her stretch from across the amphitheater is enough to raise the heat of my skin. I can't fucking sit across from her at a study table and focus on reading about elements. "Quest squad may be headed north, but I'm still reading everything I can find on Deverelli, which isn't nearly enough."
"Let's go. It shouldn't be this hard to sort yourselves out." I call out as the first years dilly-dally into their seats. A surprisingly high number of them apparently can't wield for this late in the year… "Quest squad?" I ask Violet.
"Ridoc gave it a nickname, and it stuck." She shrugs, "Aetos leaves for his trip to Calldyr soon, so we've been preparing to get into my parents'—His quarters."
"Need my help?" I ask, checking out the riders. I know almost all of their signets already, since I only just graduated, but I haven't seen most of them wield in ages.
"No, but I'll let you know if that changes." She promises. "Any chance you can sneak away to Chantara this weekend? We're dragging Sawyer out."
"I hope you have a great time, but watching you across the pub sounds like torture." I almost smile. "I think we had more time together when I was stationed at Samara."
"Agreed, but you're safe here."
"Safe is starting to feel overrated," I say, looking away from her so I don't do anything stupid, and turning towards first wing, who seems to be talking shit about me? That'll be fun. "You done gossiping among yourselves?"
"We were just saying that we're not sure someone who graduated less than a year ago makes the best teacher." Loran Yashil says he's a third year and one of the best in first wing if I remember correctly, but the ones who talk a big game can never follow through. This might be fun, and maybe I can show off a little for Violet…
"Let's see if you can take me down and settle that worry right now." I offer, indicating for him to join me on the mat. "You're a metallurgist, right?"
"Metallurgist." He nods. "So these are nice and sharp." He walks onto the mat, drawing a sword and a dagger. Showing me in advance what he plans to wield against me. Gods… No fucking subtly.
"Good for you. I hope they help."
Loran lifts his sword, circling me. "Are you going to draw a weapon?"
"We'll see." I shrug, following his movements. "Now do us both a favor and don't hold back. Begin."
Loran charges, and I don't move.
As he reaches me, he thrusts his sword forward, and I don't flinch. I wait until it's just about to reach me before sidestepping away and knocking the blade from his wrists with one hit. His sword falls, and he pivots to his dagger on his left, swinging it at me with far too much exposure.
I take hold of his arm before he can cut me and pull it behind his back until he cries out, then take the dagger from his hand and push him forward.
"I've always loved watching you on the mat." Violet's voice enters my mind, teasing.
"I know." I tell her, "I've used it to my advantage a few times."
Loran stumbles to face me, looking unnerved.
I throw his dagger back at him, embedding it in the mat. "You threw too much energy into the charge. Using brute force instead of finesse is a first-year tactic. Now that we've proven I'm capable of kicking your ass without breaking a sweat or holding steel, what do you say we get to the point of the class and wield?" I ask. He looks pissed when he retrieves his weapons and prepares again.
"Begin," I order.
He starts to circle me, and I don't move, just watch his shadows– just like Violet the first time I took her to the mat… but she was a month into her first year, and he's a third. He should know better. And Violet learned quickly.
I look to her in the crowd and wink, mostly because I know it will annoy her, then from behind me, the shadow of the sword Loran holds lengthens. At least he's finally wielding…
I keep looking at Violet until the shadow shifts poisons, then I look down at it and use the shadow of his sword to strangle him with one twitch of my finger.
I step to the side as he falls forward, dropping his sword. I wait a few second longer then I probably should before dropping the shadows but fuck it, he was annoying.
Maybe because I'm already focusing on Violet, but with my improved hearing, I catch Ridoc teasing her.
"I'm either completely in love with your boyfriend or utterly terrified of him," he mutters. "Not sure at the moment."
"Both," Cat answers. "You can be both. Trust me."
"You shouldn't be either," Trager comes back with, and Violet smiles at them.
"I'm never scared of him." Her eyes find mine, and I hope she means that. I hope she never has reason to be. "And he's not my boyfriend."
Rhiannon laughs at her comment.
"Agreed, that's far too casual a term for what we are," I tell her and then look down at Loran. "Get up. I have two swords and four daggers strapped to me," I tell him, loud enough for the class to hear. "And you didn't think to heat them? Twist them? Manipulate them in any way?"
"I used my sword—" Loran starts.
"Foolish choice. Get back to your squad." I tell him, and he retreats. "I'm sure you all noticed the weather ward we have in place to keep you nice and comfortable for these first few lessons, but what you don't see is that the area of the mat has been protected by the best ward-weavers in Navarre."
I ask my shadows to scurry out, expanding in every direction to slam against an invisible barrier, then let them withdraw.
"With only a couple of exceptions"—I look to Violet.—"whatever you wield will stay between the opponents on the mat, and I'm assured your signets will not leave the amphitheater or endanger the campus, so when I tell you not to hold back, I mean it, because the venin won't. Next?"
I start with first wing, and move through them qickly, then Quinn steps up when its fourth wings turn, and considering how many times she's seen me wield, I was sort of hoping she would realize that her projection of herself doesnt cast a shadow, making it pretty fucking obvious who the real one is.
Rhiannon's retrieving is impressive, but she doesn't do it fast enough to discount my control.
Neve levitates her daggers, and I haven't seen her wield before, being a flier. They do have impressive lesser magic skills.
"Now that's fun," I comment. As the daggers fly at me, I simply return them.
"I never need to draw a sword because I am the weapon. I'm just good with blades for the fun of it." I explain to the crowd.
"You handing everyone their ass on the mat isn't anything new from last year." Loran points out.
"Correct." I welcome the prompt to my little speech. "Up until now, when we spar or challenge, our priority has been to beat our opponent at all costs. That means we train in private, we find an edge—" I smile at Violet "Like poisoning our opponents."
"And we keep our tactics secret because we need that edge on the mat. The difference between my position as a cadet last year, even as a wingleader, and now is that as your teacher, I want to give you my edge. I want you to learn, not just from me but from one another. I'll help expose the weaknesses in your signet so that when you come up against a dark wielder with such a power, you will have already practiced how to defeat them. Each of you has something to learn, and I'm here to keep you safe while you do it."
"And what about the ones who can't wield signets?" Caroline asks. "They're just the practice dummies?"
Cat scoffs. "We're far from helpless." She glares. "You can try your water-wielding on me, but I'll already be in your head, turning your own emotions against you."
"She's good at it, too," Violet grumbles.
"You'll find that mindwork can be just as deadly," I tell them, looking at Cat, and she breaks eye contact. Good, she should feel guilty. "And if you haven't learned how to shield, I suggest you spend some time with Professor Carr before facing off against a flier or anyone wearing a classified patch." I look at Imogen, who smirks at me.
"And you're going to teach us how to defeat you?" Aaric asks. He would.
I smirk, "I can teach you to try, but there's only one person capable of taking me down one day, and it isn't you, Graycastle."
I look at Violet, and she blushes. I fucking love it when she blushes.
"Let's get back to it while you have some relative privacy. As of next week, the infantry cadets will be sitting in so they stand half a chance on the battlefield." I look over to where the fourth wing's second squad sits. "Gamlyn, you're next."
Ridoc doesn't do great. Then Sloane, who I bind in shadows almost instantly, like she just wanted to get it over with. If she won't practice with me, I need to talk to Imogen. Fuck, maybe Dain.
Neither Cat nor any of the fliers get close before they're off the mat, as if I'll let Cat or any of them anywhere the fuck near me. And Cat seems to take it personally, probably because I have my rune dagger blocking her gift still. She can't even try to get into my mind. I almost wonder if I should leave it off. If she'll risk trying to get in my mind after I threatened to kill her if she ever tried again….
Then, with just enough time for one more, I look at Violet.
"No exceptions, Sorrengail."
"Now, this is what I've been waiting to see," Caroline says.
"Do me a favor," Violet teases. Fiddling with her conduit, she smirked at me. "Don't let me hurt you."
"Arrogant, are we?" I smile at her. Fuck… she's so Godsdamn sexy. "Let's see how you do in the dark."
I fill the mat in shadows, covering her in darkness.
"This is playing dirty," she says, lifting the conduit and making it glow with little bits of lighting, illuminating the area. Which is incredibly cool and not something I've seen her do before.
"You already have the upper hand," I reply, pulling in a strand of shadow to caress her cheek. "I'm just leveling the playing field."
She starts to move around the shadows, light following her as I play, stepping back into the darkness whenever she gets close.
"Strike,"
"And chance actually hitting you? I think not."
"Use our pathway to track me down." I tease her, standing just behind her, leaning in close in a very unprofessional manner for a professor. She spins, but I'm already several steps back where she can't see.
"That's cheating."
"It's using every tool at your disposal, come on, Violence. Live up to the nickname. I could have killed you a dozen times over by now because you're reluctant to strike."
"And I could kill you with a single, non-hypothetical strike." She points out, and I can feel her looking for me in her mind.
"Good," I comment. "I can wield from anything that casts a shadow, but no one knows the strongest threads are always my own. If you can sort through them, feel their difference, you'll be able to track where I am in the darkness."
"Is that really what you need me to learn?" she reaches out in the darkness, close, but still not getting me.
"You have to learn the difference for both our sakes," I tell her, coming up behind her to wrap my arms around her, reaching a shadow to her face to tilt her head upwards for me. "Only you."
I kiss her. It's reckless, possibly a mistake, but when else can I have the chance, really?
My tongue asks for access, and she opens for me, melting into me. Her lips molding perfectly against mine. She sighs against my mouth, and I fight every instinct to stop myself from groaning at the sound, needing to stay quiet, needing to keep this to just a kiss.
Gods she feels so fucking good though.
"Strike," I tell her again, my need for her starting to take over my common sense, and I slide my fingers down her stomach under the waistband of her sparring pants, reaching for more. Feeling her hot skin grow staticky. "Or someone might think I'm taking it easy on you." I nip at her lip and stroke one finger along the fabric of her underwear.
"Easy is the opposite of what I want from you." She teases, her power rising, and there's one thing in this world I know: it's the feel of her just before lightning strikes.
She lifts her hand toward the sky, and I pull my own hands away from her, stepping back before I can feel any more of her power.
I walk away from the cloud of shadow, stepping into the open– shadow free air just as lighting strikes, and I smirk at the look on the faces of all the cadets while I walk up the steps.
The other cadets gasp at the power of her strike. As they should.
"You're astounding," I tell her.
"Why only me?" She asks. Still masked in shadows as I reach the highest step.
"You need to be able to find me," I tell her, teasing her skin with shadows again before telling them all to fall. I left her in the center of the mat, and it takes her a moment to realize that, until her eyes find me on the steps. "Class is over. I expect you all to come prepared next session," I call to them all.
"Why only me?" She repeats, knowing the answer. "Xaden!"
"Because you're the only one capable of killing me."
When we're next called into the Senarium, the Duchess of Morraine pulls me aside, and Lewellen, who's back acting as an advisor while Lindell monitors the province, chuckles at me before walking away. So that can't be a good sign.
"How are you coping with the return of your family's title, Duke Riorson?" She asks.
"Oh– fine. It has its challenges while I'm an active rider, of course,e but–"
"Yes, we were all so glad when we heard you found a way to be called back from the front lines! Particularly when you don't have an heir. You aren't even married yet, are you?"
Fucking hell. Again, with the heir thing.
"No, not married. Riders are forbidden from marrying when still in the quadrant." I explain.
"Yes, but you graduated months ago–"
"It's not me I need to wait for Your Grace."
Her lips pursed at that. It's not exactly a secret that I'm with Violet. Regardless of the fucking code of conduct.
"It's noble of you to consider fulfilling the implications from relationships prior to your reinstatement as Duke, and the Sorringail family is certainly–"
"Certainly what?" I ask, my voice cooling.
"They're an excellent military family– but wouldn't it be prudent to marry within nobility so you can… extend your legitimacy? Given the newly instated title–"
"The Riorson line has been Navarrian nobility since the unification." I point out. "Our title was stripped for 7 years. Historically, that sounds irrelevant. Your family line has been seated in power in Morraine for only about 350 years, haven't you? The province was under control of–"
"Quite." She interrupts. "I mention this, of course, not to discredit your house, but to honor it."
I raise an eyebrow at her. This is why Lewellen was snickering. This is going to be annoying.
"I think you know I have a daughter– you've surely met her when you were younger, she's only about two years older than you and she's still unmarried–"
"Your Grace, I may be unmarried, but I'm not available. Nor do I plan on–"
"As a professor here, I was told you're relationship has ended–"
"The details of my relationship aren't any of your concern."
"Even still," She insists. "My daughter and you would make an excellent match, strengthening both our families and clarifying your loyalty to Navarre after the… unfortunate actions last fall."
"Would those unfortunate actions be welcoming hundreds of dragons who made their own choice to fly to Aretia and train with their riders to fight venin, only to return to Basgith when there was no need to do so and sway the tide of the battle? With the Sorringail family, I might add." I comment, tilting my head, "Considering it was Cadet Sorringail who, not only underwent extensive torture to learn the secreates of the wards, and then raise them partially in Aretia and then fully here, where ultimately General Lilith Sorringails sacrificed her own life to imbue the stone, allowing that to be possible. Not to mention Lieutenant Colonel Sorringail's mending of the stone after its destruction by a Navarre rider, and Captain Sorringail's valiant efforts during the battle."
She looks at me, her eyes narrowing.
"Were those the unfortunate actions of last fall that you were referring to?" I ask. "Or were you referencing to something else? Because I think my loyalties are clear. Thank you for the… consideration, and I'm sure your daughter is lovely. But I am not interested."
I leave her gaping after me and sit with Lewellen at the end of the table.
"Congratulations," He says sarcastically.
"Gods… I thought after I broke things off with Cat, I wouldn't have to deal with this anymore, at least not for a while."
"Lindell chose not to tell you, assuming you would be… annoyed. But The Duchess of Morraine isn't the first to offer her daughter's hand." Lewellen says. "Lindell and I have declined several proposals on your behalf. The daughter of the Cygnisen Viscount made a particularly strong argument for the alliance–"
"The Cygnisen Viscount? His daughter is what… 15?" I ask, shocked.
"She'll apparently be 16 in the next few weeks," Lewellen tells me, needling. "The Duchess of Morraine makes an even dozen– and you've been a duke less than a month. I would suggest speaking with whoever decides Cadets can't marry if you really want an end to it, and just move forward with Violet."
I give him a look clearly recommending he mind his own business, and he raises his hands in surrender, turning his attention to his notes as we wait for the Senarium to be called to order.
My mind instantly wanders to Violet. Dutchess Violet Riorson… Violet in a white gown in the Temple of Aretia… Violet in an emerald crown sitting beside me on the throne… Violet in an emerald crown and nothing else sitting on that throne… fuck.
The less pleasant part of my mind tosses in the image of Violet in her beautiful white dress, draped in Tyrish emeralds, and me standing beside her, red veins protruding from my eyes, coloring my face, marking me clearly as what I've become.
A royal guard steps in, and I preemptively roll my eyes as Halden enters, followed closely by Colonel Markehm and Professor Grady, and the session is called to order.
"Please, Captain Grady– share with us the plan for your task force," Halden prompts, and Grady repeats almost exactly what was discussed in the meeting the other day. We're flying North, without any base of operations when we get there, without any plan, and without any specific reason to be going there. I fight the urge to roll my eyes.
"Do you not think this is a bit… Vague?" The Duke of Calldyr asks. "Has the dragon Andarna not provided any useful information?"
"My dragon did attempt to speak to her; however, he was... unsuccessful," Grady says. "There is unfortunately very little to go on."
"Cadet Sorringail suggested a southern route, did she not, Captain? I would think the rider of the dragon in question may have more insight then, well.. You," I point out.
His face reddens
"Cadet Sorringail wants to fly south?" The Duchess of Elsum asks. "To the isals? Did her dragon tell her something she is not willing to share with Captain Grady?"
"No–" Grady starts, but I ignore him.
"No, Andarna is not aware of where her den my be, but Violet suggested meeting with the Deverelli, who may have access to more information then us considering our isolation of the last several hundred years– as well as being able to use Deverelli as a base should we continue our flight south," I explain. "Not to mention how it would have the possibility of reopening trade and communication with the isal kingdoms, trade we desperately need considering the venin have disrupted supply chains between Navarre and Poromiel significantly."
"Why wasn't this southern route mentioned in your proposal, Captain?" The Duke of Luceras asks.
"There's no reason to believe the Irids–" Grady tries.
"There's no reason to believe they're south, sure. But there's no reason to believe they're north either, and in the south, there's at least civilization that may have additional answers. That does seem the more logical choice to me," The Duke of Calldyr adds.
"I have to agree, Captain. You've had weeks to establish your course, and nowhere in your proposal is there any mention of setting up a base camp. Do you expect your dragons to fly for days on end with no land in sight?" Halden says. Surprisingly, on my side. So that's good.
"Deverelli would require a price, and their king only meets with Aristocracy," Grady mentions.
"Good thing you already have a Duke on your task force then." The Duchess of Morraine says, smiling at me.
"Duke Riorson cannot negotiate on behalf of Navarre for reopening trade," Harden comments, unnecessarily, if you ask me.
"No, but he could request an audience to set up their base camp, and then assuming that goes well, request Navarrian discussions to open– then of course you, Your Highness, would have the authority to negotiate further for Navarre," The Duke of Calldyr says.
"This is worth considering," Halden agrees. "I will take the new proposal under advisement. Let's move on to other business, shall we?"
Grady looks fucking pissed, but he leaves the room shortly after, and the meeting moves on.
Was tha. Successful?