The Immortal / Fourth Wing

Chapter Three

POV: Violet Sorrengail

Conscription Day was always the deadliest. Maybe that was why the sunrise was especially beautiful this morning - because I knew it might be my last.

"She's batshit crazy", Mira said from the center of the hallway, right between where two guards were positioned.

"They'll tell her you said that."

"Like they don't already know", she grinded out through clenched teeth. "Let's go. We only have an hour before all candidates have to report, and I saw thousands waiting outside the gates as I flew over."

She started walking, leading me down the stone staircase and trough the hallways to my room.

Well it was my room. In the thirty minutes I've been gone, all my personal items have been packed into crates that now sat stacked in the corner. My stomach sunk to the hardwood floor. My mother had my entire life boxed.

"She's fucking efficient, I'll give you that", Mira muttered before turning my way, her gaze passing over me in an open assessment. "I was hoping I'd be able to talk her out of it. You were never meant for the Riders Quadrant."

"So you've mentioned." I lifted an eyebrow at her. "Repeatedly."

"Sorry." She winced, dropping to the ground, and emptying her pack.

"What are you doing"

"What Brennan did for me," she said softly, and grief lodges in my throat. "Can you use a sword?"

I shook my head. "Too heavy. I'm pretty quick with daggers, though." Really damned quick. Lightning quick. What I lacked in strength, I made up for in speed.

"I figured. Good. Now, drop your pack and take off those horrible boots" She sorted through the items she'd brought, handing me new boots and a black uniform. "Put these on."

"What's wrong with my pack" I asked but dropped my rucksack anyway. She immediately opened it, ripping out everything I'd carefully packed. "Mira! That took me all night!"

"You're carrying way too much, and your boots are a death trap. You'll slip right off the parapet with these smooth soles. I had a set of rubber-bottomed rider boots made for you just in case, and this, dear Violet, is the worst case." Books started flying, landing in the vicinity of the crate.

"Hey, I can only take what I can carry, and I want those!" I lunged for the next book before she had the chance to toss it, barely managing to save my favorite collection of dark fables.

"Are you willing to die for it?W she asked, her eyes turning hard. "I can carry it!" This was all wrong. I was supposed to be dedicating my life to books, not throwing them in the corner to lighten my rucksack.

"No. You can't. You're barely thrice the weight of the pack, the parapet is roughly eighteen inches wide, two hundred feet above ground, and last time I looked, those were rains cloud moving in. They're not going to give you a rain delay just because the bridge might be a little slick, sis. You'll fall. You'll die. Now, are you going to listen to me? Or are you going to join the other dead candidates at tomorrow mornings call?"

There was no trace of my older sister in the rider before me. This woman was shrewd, cunning, and a touch cruel. This was the woman who survived all three ears with only one scar, the one her own dragon gave her during Threshing. "Because that's all you'll be. Another tombstone. Another name scorched in stone. Ditch the books."