Ruthless 🗡️/ Fourth Wing

Chapter~24

Cyra stems from old Persia, where it means "sun," "throne" or "lord."

"My sweet Nora Cyra Freysson, you are meant for so much more than this harsh world."

The words echo in my mind as I push through the crowd of Cadets, trying to get to breakfast before class. But the rush of students around me barely registers. My thoughts are lost in the fire running through my veins—the strange, scorching heat that I can neither control nor understand. In every lesson I've taken, no one ever spoke of fire coursing through your blood. How and why is this happening?

The Library's grand wooden doors loom ahead of me, and I feel the familiar pull in my chest, an inexplicable draw to the ancient texts that lie hidden behind them. My mind races with a thousand thoughts, but the fire intensifies with each step I take. The air outside is crisp, the early morning sun casting a golden glow across the cobblestone courtyard, and I am suddenly aware of the warmth that pulses beneath my skin, answering the call of the earth beneath my feet.

Three minutes. Just three minutes until the Library opens.

I sit by the large wooden doors, the ancient stone beneath me cool to the touch. My knees pulled to my chest, I closed my eyes for a moment, letting the world fade. But even in the quiet, the fire inside me refuses to be ignored. It's as if the very earth beneath me is calling out to something deep inside—something connected to dragons, to fire, to ancient power.

As the doors creak open, I stand, feeling the heat surge through my body, the earth beneath my feet grounding me in a way that words cannot explain. The vast Library awaits, filled with secrets that seem to hum with a quiet, timeless energy.

I make my way to the back of the Library, toward the section where the oldest and most forgotten texts are kept. Among the ancient scrolls and brittle pages, I find it—The Book of Fire Signets.

A voice pulls me from my thoughts. "Hey, do you need any help?" A scribe, tall with brown hair, approaches.

"No, I'm okay. Thank you, though," I say, trying to shake off the growing sense of urgency gnawing at me.

"Not an issue. If you need anything, I'll be at the front. My name's Luke," he says with a smile that doesn't quite reach his eyes.

I nod absently, already turning my attention back to the book in front of me. The moment my fingers graze the pages, the warmth within me shifts, deepening. The fire in my veins answers the call of the text as if it knows what it is. I open the book carefully, my heart racing as I begin to read.

Excerpt from The Chronicles of Fire Signets and Dragon Bonds
Compiled by the Order of Ancient Scholars and Scribes of the past Rebellion 

The Fire Signet: A Symbol of Power
The fire signet is an ancient symbol that has been passed down through generations, associated with those who wield the power of fire magic. These signets, often manifesting as marks or symbols imbued with the essence of flame, are not simply tattoos or ornamental designs; they are the bearer's mark of destiny. The signet represents not just the power of fire, but also the bond between the individual and the dragons—creatures of flame, fury, and freedom.

Throughout history, the fire signet has been worn by those chosen by dragons to lead, fight, or protect. These individuals are often marked before they even meet their dragon, as the signet acts as a beacon for the creature to find them. The connection between a rider and their dragon is one of the most sacred in dragonkind—beyond mere companionship, it is a partnership forged in fire.

My fingers tremble as I continue reading, the heat inside me flaring again. The words blur for a moment as the fire intensifies in my veins, clawing at me, refusing to be ignored. I can feel it pulsing beneath my skin, pressing against my bones, and the more I read, the sharper the heat becomes.