"Your tongue is sharp, Little Dragon. But my blade is sharper."
Vesta Melgren x Xaden Riorson
A/N Just a disclaimer, I don't own or take any credit to anything having to do with Fourth Wing. That all belongs to the Original Author Rebecca Yarros. Al...
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"Killing is an art form; Like dancing, but with more blood..."
Article One, Section Three; The Exemplar of a Soldier - The Book of Vesta
The Gods roared in violence. Lightening streaking across the sky, painting the world white.
Rain pelted against Vesta, her cloak sticking to her skin. The stones beneath her feet slick, making the Parapet even more treacherous. Her fingers grazed the sides of the Turret, the stone still lingering with warmth from the last touches of the sun.
Rhiannon's form was ahead of her, already about a fourth of the way down. Violet lingered behind Vesta, a strong gust of wind of-set the girls balance, causing her to teeter upon the ledge.
She could hear the blonde cadet from before taunting her, "And you think you'll be able to ride? Some Sorrengail, with that kind of balance. I pity whatever wing you end up in."
Vesta could hear the girls teeth grind together from here. She knew the invalid, whom she learned was Jack Barlowe, would be a problem, she'd have to be careful.
Vesta glanced over her shoulder to check on Violet, but her gaze locked with the Wingleader's.
"You'd better get going, Melgren." Xaden's deep voice orders, his eyes pinning her with a glare.
Vesta bared her teeth at his tone, her glare catching movement behind the little Sorrengail. She saw Barlowe lunge for Violet, causing the girl to scurry across the stones to get to her. She throws her arms out for balance, her head down and eyes locked to the slippery stone beneath her.
Vesta could see the girls lips moving, mumbling facts underneath her breath. Just before she reached me, lightening flashed and the wind howled. Her body swayed with the gale, she dropped down to hold the edges. Her knee slammed against the stone, she yelped at the impact. "Violet!"
Vesta ran the last few feet between them, her footing sure and steady. Her crimson cloak whipped against her leathers, the force of the wind pressing her closer to Violet. Violet's body trembled beneath her touch. "It's alright little Sorrengail, you're almost there." Violet's voice continued to whisper out random truths as she regained her footing. "Here, go ahead of me. I'll guard your back." Her fingers gripped Vesta's tightly before she outstretched her arms once more, limping forward.
She watched Violet's movements before continuing on, the storm never once letting up.
Vesta glances over her shoulder to see the boy grinning at the scene, his body seemingly unaffected by the storm. Her eyes narrowed in suspicion, she knew he would make a move against her before this was over.
Vesta returned her focus to the Parapet, she was almost there.
Violet had just made it to solid ground when she heard a scream.
