Ruthless: A Fourth Wing Fanfiction

Chapter 5

"You seriously knew all the answers in history and apparently every right question to ask in Battle Brief," Rhiannon says, shaking her head as we stand on the sidelines of the sparring mat after lunch, watching Ridoc and Aurelie, the girl who defended the boy I now know as Pryor, circle each other in their fighting leathers.

"You're not even going to have to study for tests, are you?"

The first years all stand on our side, but the second and third years stand on the others. They definitely have an advantage, considering they have had at least a year more combat training than us.

All the women are now dressed similarly, though the cuts of their leathers are chosen by preference. The guys are mostly shirtless because they think shirts give their opponent something to grab onto. Personally, I'm not complaining, I'm just enjoying the view.

If Jack Barlowe wasn't such a prick, I probably would have hooked up with him at some point. Only three squads from each wing are here this afternoon, and I spot Jack glaring at Violet from across the mat. Bet he has a match he wants to happen.

"Stop circling each other like you are dance partners and attack!" Professor Emetterio orders from across the mat, where Dain watches the match.

"I'm worried about this," Violet says.

"Really?" Rhiannon asks.

"I figured as a Sorrengail, you'd be a hand-to-hand threat."

"Not exactly," Violet replies, her gaze returning to the match.

"What about you, Ruth?" Rhi asks.

"I'm alright."

Violet scoffs. "Alright? You almost beat Mira once and she's, what, four years older than you, not to mention a Lieutenant?"

Rhiannon gapes at me. I shrug. "I was having a good day I guess."

"No blades today! We're just assessing!" Emetterio shouts. Damn it. I haven't gotten to use my axes in ages.

Ridoc grumbles and sheaths the dagger he was holding just in time to deflect a right hook from Aurelie.

"The brunette packs a punch," Rhiannon says with an appreciative smile.

Ridoc and Aurelie continue to fight, and I smile as Aurelie wins.

Someone shrieks a couple of mats over. Jack Barlowe has another guy in a headlock. The other guy is smaller and thinner than Jack.

"That guy is such an ass-" Rhiannon starts.

A sicking sound of crunching bones echoes across the gym and the first-year goes limp in Jack's hold.

"Fucking hell," I whisper as Jack drops the dead guy.

I hear their instructor reprimand him and I look forward. Enough death for today.

Emetterio points to Rhiannon and a stocky guy with blueish black hair forward.

Rhiannon makes quick work of the first-year, dodging punches and landing ones of her own. She's fast, and her hits are powerful, the kind of lethal combination that will set her apart.

"Do you yield?" she asks the first-year guy when she takes him to his back, her hand stopped mid-hit just above his throat.

"No!" he shouts, hooking his legs around Rhiannon's and slamming her to her back. She rolls quickly and gains her feet before putting him in the same position again, this time with her boot at his neck.

"I don't know, Tynan, you might want to yield," Dain says with a grin. "She's handing you your ass."

"Fuck off Aetos!" Tynan snaps, but Rhiannon presses her boot harder into his throat, garbling the last word. He turns a shade of red.

He definitely has more ego than common sense.

"He yields," Emetterio calls out, and Rhiannon steps back, offering her hand. Tynan takes it. Good.

"You-" Emetterio points to a first-year with dark blue hair and a sneer on her face. As well as a rebellion relic winding up her arm. "And you." His finger swings to me.

She's taller than me, as expected, but with the look on her face, she seems all to happy to beat me up.

I'm not as nervous as I thought I would be. I still have twenty years of experience in fighting.

"You've got this," Rhiannon says, as I pass them and step onto the mat. I glance back and Violet gives me a reassuring smile.

"Fucking Melgren." The blue-haired girl looks over me like I was the unfortunate thing she stepped in on a morning walk, narrowing her eyes that are almost as blue as her hair.

"No one has to even know your name to tell that you're Melgren's daughter. Your black hair and equally bland grey eyes."

"At least I'm not trying to be a rainbow," I retort, circling her.

"Bitch," she seethes. "Your father murdered my family."

She lunges and throws a punch directed at my throat, but I sidestep out of the way, leaping behind her. She growls and attempts again. This goes on for another few hits, making me think that this might just work. 

Her attacks are controlled by her anger and I'm using it to my advantage. She catches me by surprise by a swift kick to the back of my legs, sweeping me off my feet with my back landing with a loud thud on the mat. 

She's on top of me in two seconds, and punches her fist onto my face. I hear a crack and feel a gush of blood escaping from my nose. I struggle under her grip and manage to grab her shoulders. I flip us over so now I'm on top of her.

I punch her as hard as I can in the nose, ignoring the pain in my own. "See how you like that?" I ask, blood dripping onto the mat. After I hear her nose crunch under my fist, I grab her neck and squeeze.

"Do you yield?" I yell.

"Errika, yield!" someone shouts from the background.

In response, somehow Errika musters enough energy to bring her boot up and kick me in the back of my head. I cry out and fall back, my hands releasing her neck.

She attempts to punch me in the ribs, but all that happens is a crack of her knuckles. 

"What the fuck? What kind of armour is that?" Errika says, cradling her fingers.

"It's mine, dipshit," I say, mustering enough strength to grab her by the neck and slam her down onto the mat and punch her one more time in the head before she falls unconscious.