Ruthless: A Fourth Wing Fanfiction

Chapter 6

"This match is over," Emetterio says, glancing my way. "Take Cadet Melgren and Cadet Windsor to the Healers."

One second-year carries Errika to the Healer's Quadrant, and I follow.

The second-year kicks the door twice until someone answers. I recognise them as Nolon, a mender that has healed Violet too many times to count.

He sits Errika on a bed down the hall and pats a bed for me to sit on.

He quickly examines my nose. "Definitely broken. This will hurt, but it's better than waiting for it to heal naturally." He slips a piece of leather between my teeth.

He lifts his hands above my nose and makes a pinching movement. White-hot agony tears through my face. My teeth tear into the leather as I scream, then black out.

The barracks are nearly full by the time I make it back later that night, my nose aching. Only the small strip of hardened bandage that is across the bridge of my nose that reveals there was anything wrong with my nose in the first place.

The sun has long since gone down, but the hall is full of first-year women preparing for bed. I offer a smile to a girl who's holding a blood speckled cloth to her swollen lip, and she returns it with a wince.

I pass Violet and Rhiannon. I spot a flash of blue on her shoulder and stop in my tracks, turning to her. "Violet what happened?" I ask, gazing at the sling on her shoulder.

"A second-year dislocated my shoulder and broke my arm," she replies, looking... ashamed?

"Holy shit, did you get mended?" I gape.

"Yep. How's your nose?"

I scoff. "Compared to what just happened to you my nose is irrelevant. But it's fine. Hurting a little but fine."

She smiles. Rhiannon and Violet head into their dorm.

I walk a bit further down the hall and walk into mine, which Arkea and another girl I don't know are already in.

"I don't know where you were during sparring," I grumble at Arkea as I sit down on my bed.

"I skipped. I had to catch up on a few assignments. Let's just say I had a little nap during history," she smiles crookily.

I laugh. She glances at my nose as if waiting for an explanation.

"In sparring a girl broke my nose, but it's fine," I reassure her. "Plus, Nolon told me that her's was snapped in four pieces, while mine was only in two." I smirk.

"This is Tara. She's from Morraine," Arkea says, pointing to a dark-haired, curvy girl sitting quietly on her bunk with a book. She smiles at us when she hears her name.

I wave and change into my nightclothes, a thin, deep green silk nightgown, laying down on my bed.

"Damn it," I hear Violet mutter and she stumbles in the waist-high grass that grows alongside the river beneath the citadel.

The moon is big and full, and the task that Violet wants help with seemed fun, considering I couldn't sleep. The black cloaks we have on to try and conceal our bodies in case anyone else is out here wandering after curfew.

The Iakobos River rushes with summer runoff from the peaks above and the currents are fast and deadly this time of year, especially coming out of the steep drop of the ravine.

I watch as Violet climbs trees to pick the berries she needs to make her poisons. The only reason I agreed to go with her was to get some of the cool night air. Maybe it will help me get some sleep when we go back.

"Shit!" I hear and I turn around as Violet slips.

She glances at me and regains her footing. "I'm fine," she whispers.

I head a bit away from her and down the river, and sit on the bank, lying down.

I stare up at the night sky, shifting a little as my axes strapped on my back poke into me. I count the stars, making constellations of my own. I don't know how long I stay there, the grass above my head obscuring me from anyone peering from the edge of the river.

Suddenly, I hear voices that snap me out of my trance with the stars. I immediately hide under the grass until I determine they are far enough away. I peer over the grass and gasp.

They are all gathered underneath a tree. That tree being the once Violet climbed up. I spot her foot, but not the rest of her. If I go over there, both of us are dead. But if I don't, Violet will undoubtly be discovered. Not to mention that a gathering of more than three rebellion marked kids is illegal.

I just pray that they don't find her.

I watch. I can hear a few words. I spot Riorson, my section leader Garrick Tavis and... carver boy?

His hulking frame is toned and muscular. I remember whispers of a cadet who practically ran across Parapet and destroyed every opponent on assessment day. 

Something one of the rebellion kids say makes my blood go cold. "When can we kill Melgren and Sorrengail?"

Fuck.

I crawl across the grass, my stomach pressed against the ground so I can hear further.

"I told you already, the youngest Sorrengail is mine, and I'll handle her when the time is right. As for Melgren, I already promised Liam the honor." He gestures to carving boy.

Holy hell. If he wants to kill me why was he so nice to me in Battle Brief?

Only when they disperse do I emerge from the grass. Suddenly two hands grab my neck.

"Struggle, you die. Scream, you die. Run, you die," Liam hisses in my ear. He draws back my hood.

"Fucking Melgren," he spits. 

"Carver boy," I choke out. He stiffens, releasing my neck. 

"What are you doing here?"

"I could ask you the same. In fact, I could easily go report this little gathering of your marked friends and get you all arrested, if not killed," I say, turning to face him.

His eyes narrow at me. "Will you?"

"No," I reply truthfully.

"Why not?" he asks, his brow furrowing.

"All you were doing was getting advice from Riorson and the older riders. I don't see anything wrong with it," I say. He could easily kill me. I may be strong, but he's stronger. He could throw me into the river and no one apart from Violet would know that I'm gone.

"Well," Liam says, his gaze softening. "If you keep your word, it seems I now owe you a favour."

He turns away and disappears into the darkness of the night. I let out a sigh of relief and run over to Violet.

"You good?" I ask.

She looks dazed, but nods. 

We head back to the quadrant.