It is my opinion that of all the signet powers riders provide, mending is the most precious, but we cannot allow ourselves to become complacent when in the company of such a signet. For menders are rare, and the wounded are not.
—Major Frederick's Modern Guide for Healers
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Vesta's Pov
Panic so intense floods my system. My limbs shake uncontrollably, ragged breaths rattle through my rib cage. How could I let this happen? I'd been so careful thus far.... but not even I could keep the little Sorrengail protected against the brutality of the Rider's quadrant forever.
I ran my fingers through my moon white braid thinking about the potential consequences of my mistake. Now was not the time to panic, no, now was the time to teach that piece of shit second year a lesson for messing with what's mine.
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Violet's POV
Flames of agony engulf my upper arm and chest as Dain carries me through the lower, covered passage out of the Riders Quadrant, over the ravine, and into the Healer Quadrant. It's basically a stone bridge, covered and sided with more stone, which pretty much makes it a suspended tunnel with a few windows, but I'm not thinking clearly enough to take it in as we rush through, his strides eating up the distance.
"Almost there," he reassures me, his grip firm but careful on my rib cage and beneath my knees as my useless arm rests on my chest.
"Everyone saw you and Vesta lose it," I whisper, doing my best to mentally block the pain like I have countless times before. It's usually as easy as building a mental wall around the pulsing torment in my body, then telling myself the pain only exists in that box so I can't feel it, but it isn't working so well this time.
"We didn't lose it." He kicks the door three times when we reach it.
"You shouted and carried me out of there like I mean something to you. And Vesta all but ripped apart that first year" I focus on the scar on his jaw, the stubble on his tan skin, anything to keep from feeling the utter destruction in my shoulder.
"You do mean something to me. And Vesta" He kicks again, his expression slightly confused on his last statement.
And now everyone knows.
The door swings open and Winifred, a healer who has been at my side too many times to mention, stands back so Dain can carry me in. "Another injury? You riders certainly are trying to fill our beds to— Oh no, Violet?" Her eyes fly wide.
"Hi, Winifred," I manage over the pain.
"This way." She leads us into the infirmary, a long hall of beds, half of which are full of people in rider black. Healers do not have magic, relying on traditional tinctures and medical training to heal as best they can, but menders do. Hopefully Nolon's around tonight, since he's been mending me for the last five years.
The signet of mending is exceptionally rare among riders. They have the power to fix, to restore, to return anything to its original state—from ripped cloth to pulverized bridges, including broken human bones. My brother, Brennan, was a mender—and would have become one of the greatest had he lived.
Dain gently lays me onto the bed Winifred brings us to, then she leans into the edge of the mattress, near my hip. Every creased line in her face is a comfort as she strokes a weathered hand across my forehead. "Helen, go get Nolon," Winifred orders a healer in her forties walking by.
YOU ARE READING
Resurgence - Fourth Wing
Fantastik"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...
