Fourth Wing, Iron Flame, Oynx Flame

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I think we're about to start," I say to Mira and Amelia, and they both turn to face the dais. Everyone does."Three hundred and one of you have survived the parapet to become cadets today," Commandant Panchek starts with a politician's smile, gesturing to us. The guy has always talked with his hands. "Good job. Sixty-seven did not."My chest clenches as my brain spins the calculation quickly. Almost twenty percent. Was it the rain? The wind? That's more than average. Sixty-seven people died trying to get here."I've heard this position is just a stepping stone for him," Amelia whispers. "He wants Heartfilia job, then General Ash."The commanding general of all Navarre's forces. Ash beady eyes have always made me shrivel every time we've met during my mother's career."General Ash?" Mira whispers from my other side."He'll never get it," I say quietly as the commandant welcomes us to the Riders Quadrant. "Ash dragon gives him the signet ability to see a battle's outcome before it happens. There's no beating that, and you can't be assassinated if you know it's coming.""As the Codex says, now you begin the true crucible!" Panchek shouts, his voice carrying over the five hundred of us that I estimate are in this courtyard. "You will be tested by your superiors, hunted by your peers, and guided by your instincts. If you survive to Threshing, and if you are chosen, you will be riders. Then we'll see how many of you make it to graduation."Statistics say about a quarter of us will live to graduate, give or take a few on any year, and yet the Riders Quadrant is never short volunteers. Every cadet in this courtyard thinks they have what it takes to be one of the elite, the very best Navarre has to offer...a dragon rider. I can't help but wonder for the smallest of seconds if maybe I do, too. Maybe I can do more than just survive."Your instructors will teach you," Panchek promises, his hand sweeping to the line of professors standing at the doors to the academic wing. "It's up to you how well you learn." He swings his pointer finger at us. "Discipline falls to your units, and your wingleader is the last word. If I have to get involved..." A slow, sinister smile spreads across his face. "You don't want me involved."With that said, I'll leave you to your wingleaders. My best advice? Don't die." He walks off the dais with the executive commandant, leaving only the riders on the stone stage.A green hair woman with wide shoulders and a scarred sneer stalks forward, the silver spikes on the shoulders of her uniform flashing in the sunlight. "I'm Nancy, the senior wingleader of the quadrant and the head of the First Wing. Section leaders and squad leaders, take your positions now."My shoulder is jostled as someone walks by, pushing between Mira and me. Others follow suit until there are about fifty people in front of us, spaced out in formation."Sections and squads," I whisper to Mira, in case she didn't grow up in a military family. "Three squads in each section and three sections in each of the four wings.""Thank you," Mira answers.Luke stands in the section for Second Wing, facing me but averting his eyes."First Squad! Claw Section! First Wing!" Nancy calls out.A man closer to the dais raises his hand."Cadets, when your name is called, take up formation behind your squad leader," Nancy instructs.The redhead with the crossbow and roll steps forward and begins calling names. One by one, cadets move from the crowd to the formation, and I keep count, making snap judgments based off clothing and arrogance. It looks like each squad will have about fifteen or sixteen people in it. Jamesis called into the Flame Section of First Wing. Amelia is called into the Tail Section, and soon they start on Second Wing.
I let loose a thankful sigh when the wingleader steps forward and it isn't Rogue. Mira and I are both called to Second Squad, Flame Section, Second Wing. We get into formation quickly, lining up in a square. A quick glance tells me that we have a squad leader... Luke, who isn't looking at me... a female executive squad leader, four riders who look like they might be second- or third-years, and nine first-years. One of the riders with two stars on her uniform and short black hair has a rebellion relic that winds around her forearm, from her wrist to above her elbow, where it disappears under her uniform, but I look away so she won't catch me staring.We're silent as the rest of the wings are called. The sun is out in full now, beating into my leathers and scorching my skin. I told him not to keep you in that library. Mom's words from this morning haunt me, but it's not like I could have prepared for this. I have exactly two shades when it comes to the sun, pale and burned.When the order sounds, we all turn to face the dais. I try to keep my gaze on the roll-keeper, but my eyes jerk right like the traitors they are, and my pulse leaps. Rogue watches me with a cold, calculating look that feels like he's plotting my death from where he stands as the wingleader for Fourth Wing.I lift my chin. He cocks his right eyebrow. Then he says something to Second Wing's wingleader, and then every wingleader joins in on what's obviously a heated discussion."What do you think they're talking about?" Mira whispers."Quiet," Luke hisses.My spine stiffens. I can't expect him to be my Luke here, not under these circumstances, but still, the tone is jarring. Finally, the wingleaders turn around to face us, and the slight tilt to Rogue. lips makes me instantly queasy."Luke Combs, you and your squad will switch with Aura Beinhaven's," Nancy orders. Wait. What? Who is Aura Beinhaven? Luke nods, then turns to us. "Follow me." He says it once, then strides through formation, leaving us to scurry after him. We pass another squad on the way from...from...The very breath freezes in my lungs.We're moving to Fourth Wing. Rogue wing.It takes a minute, maybe two, and we take our place in the new formation. I force myself to breathe. There's a fucking smirk on Rogue arrogant, handsome face.I'm now entirely at his mercy, a subordinate in his chain of command. He can punish me however he likes for the slightest infraction, even imaginary ones. Nyra looks at Rogue as she finishes assignments, and he nods, stepping forward and finally breaking our staring contest. I'm pretty sure he won, considering my heart is galloping like a runaway horse."You're all cadets now." Rogue voice carries out over the courtyard, stronger than the others. "Take a look at your squad. These are the only people guaranteed by Codex not to kill you. But just because they can't end your life doesn't mean others won't. You want a dragon? Earn one."Most of the others cheer, but I keep my mouth shut. Sixty-seven people fell or died in some other way today. Sixty-seven just like Dylan, whose parents would either collect their bodies or watch them be buried at the foot of the mountain under a simple stone. I can't force myself to cheer for their loss. Rogue eyes find mine, and my stomach clenches before he looks away. "And I bet you feel pretty badass right now, don't you, first-years?"More cheers."You feel invincible after the parapet, don't you?" Rogue shouts. "You think you're untouchable! You're on the way to becoming the elite! The few! The chosen!"
Another round of cheers goes up with each declaration, louder and louder.No. That's not just cheering, it's the sound of wings beating the air into submission."Oh gods, they're beautiful," Mira whispers at my side as they come into view... a riot of dragons.
I've spent my life around dragons, but always from a distance. They don't tolerate humans they haven't chosen. But these eight? They're flying straight for us... at speed.Just when I think they're about to fly overhead, they pitch vertically, whip the air with their huge semitranslucent wings, and stop, the gusts of wing-made wind so powerful that I nearly stagger backward as they land on the outer semicircular wall. Their chest scales ripple with movement, and their razor-sharp talons dig into the edge of the wall on either side. Now I understand why the walls are ten feet thick. It's not a barrier. The edge of the fortress is a damned perch.
My mouth drops open. In my five years of living here, I've never seen this, but then again, I've never been allowed to watch what happens on Conscription Day. A few cadets scream. Guess everyone wants to be a dragon rider until they're actually twenty feet away from one. Steam blasts my face as the navy-blue one directly in front of me exhales through its wide nostrils. Its glistening blue horns rise above its head in an elegant, lethal sweep, and its wings flare momentarily before tucking in, the tip of their top joint crowned by a single fierce talon. Their tails are just as fatal, but I can't see them at this angle or even tell which breed of dragon each is without that clue. All are deadly."We're going to have to bring the masons in again," Luke mutters as chunks of rock crumble under the dragons' grips, crashing to the courtyard in boulders the size of my torso. There are three dragons in various shades of red, two shades of green... like Brantley, Seliah dragon... one brown like Mom's, one orange, and the enormous navy one ahead of me. They're all massive, overshadowing the structure of the citadel as they narrow their golden eyes at us in absolute judgment.If they didn't need us puny humans to develop signet abilities from bonding and weave the protective wards they power around Navarre, I'm pretty sure they'd eat us all and be done. But they like protecting the Vale... the valley behind Magnolia the dragons call home... from merciless gryphons and we like living, so here we are in the most unlikely of partnerships. My heart threatens to beat out of my chest, and I absolutely agree with it, because I'd like to run, too. Just thinking that I'm supposed to ride one of these is fucking ludicrous. A cadet bolts out of Third Wing, screaming as he makes a run for the stone keep behind us. We all turn to look as he sprints for the giant arched door at the center. I can almost see the words carved into the arch from here, but I already know them by heart. A dragon without its rider is a tragedy. A rider without their dragon is dead.Once bonded, riders can't live without their dragons, but most dragons can live just fine after us. It's why they choose carefully, so they're not humiliated by picking a coward, not that a dragon would ever admit to making a mistake.
The red dragon on the left opens its vast mouth, revealing teeth as big as I am. That jaw could crush me if it wanted, like a grape. Fire erupts along its tongue, then shoots outward in a macabre blaze toward the fleeing cadet. He's a pile of ash on the gravel before he can even make it to the shadow of the keep. Sixty-eight dead.Heat from the flames blasts the side of my face as I jerk my attention forward. If anyone else runs and is likewise executed, I don't want to see it. More screaming sounds around me. I lock my jaw as hard as I can to keep quiet.There are two more gusts of heat, one to my left and then another to my right. Make that seventy. The navy dragon seems to tilt its head at me, as if its narrowed golden eyes can see straight through me to the fear fisting my stomach and the doubt curled insidiously around my heart. I bet it can even see the wrap binding my knee. It knows I'm at a disadvantage, that I'm too small to climb its foreleg and mount, too frail to ride. Dragons always know. But I will not run. I wouldn't be standing here if I'd quit every time something seemed impossible to overcome. I will not die today. The words repeat in my head just like they had before the parapet and on it. I force my shoulders back and lift my chin. The dragon blinks, which might be a sign of approval, or boredom, and looks away."Anyone else feel like changing their mind?" Rogue shouts, scanning the remaining rows of cadets with the same shrewd gaze of the navy-blue dragon behind him. "No? Excellent. Roughly half of you will be dead by this time next summer." The formation is silent except for a few untimely sobs from my left. "A third of you again the year after that, and the same your last year. No one cares who your mommy or daddy is here. Even King Titus second son died during his Threshing. So tell me again: Do you feel invincible now that you've made it into the Riders Quadrant? Untouchable? Elite?"No one cheers.Another blast of heat rushes... this time directly at my face... and every muscle in my body clenches, preparing for incineration. But it's not flames...just steam, and it blows back Mira braids as the dragons finish their simultaneous exhale. The breeches on the first-year ahead of me darken, the color spreading down his legs. They want us scared. Mission accomplished."Because you're not untouchable or special to them." Rogue points toward the navy dragon and leans forward slightly, like he's letting us in on a secret as we lock eyes. "To them, you're just the prey."Mary Parker, Caleb Miller."Captain Fitzgibbons reads from the death roll, flanked by two other scribes on the dais as we stand in silent formation in the courtyard, squinting into the early sun.This morning, we're all in rider black, and there's a single silver four-pointed star on my collarbone, the mark of a first-year, and a Fourth Wing patch on my shoulder. We were issued standard uniforms yesterday, summer-weight tight-fitted tunics, pants, and accessories after Parapet was over, but not flight leathers. There's no point handing out the thicker, more protective combat uniforms when half of us won't be around come Threshing in October. The armored corset Seliah made me isn't regulation, but I fit right in among the hundreds of modified uniforms around me.After the last twenty-four hours and one night in the first-floor barracks, I'm starting to realize that this quadrant is a strange mix of we-might-die-tomorrow hedonism and brutal efficiency in the name of the same reason."Mark Campbell." Captain Fitzgibbons continues to read, and the scribes next to him shift their weight. "Dougal Luperco."I think we're somewhere in the fifties, but I lost count when he read Dylan's name a few minutes ago. This is the only memorial the names will get, the only time they'll be spoken of in the citadel, so I try to concentrate, to commit each name to memory, but there's just too many. My skin is agitated from wearing the armor all night like Seliah suggested, and my knee aches, but I resist the urge to bend down and adjust the wrap I managed to put on in the nonexistent privacy of my bunk in the first-year barracks before anyone else woke up.There are a hundred and fifty-six of us in the first floor of the dormitory building, our beds positioned in four neat rows in the open space. Even though James Akasuna was put in the third-floor dorms, I'm not about to let any of them see my weaknesses. Not until I know who I can trust. Private rooms are like flight leathers... you don't get one until you survive Threshing."Simone Casteneda." Captain Fitzgibbons closes the scroll. "We commend their souls to Malek." The god of death. I blink. Guess we were closer to the end than I thought. There's no formal conclusion to the formation, no last moment of silence. The names on the scroll leave the dais with the scribes, and the quiet is broken as the squad leaders all turn and begin to address their squads."Hopefully you all ate breakfast, because you're not going to get another chance before lunch," Luke says, his eyes meeting mine for the span of a heartbeat before he glances away, feigning indifference."He's good at pretending he doesn't know you," Mira whispers at my side."He is," I reply just as softly. A smile tugs at the corners of my mouth, but I keep my expression as bland as possible as I soak in the sight of him. The sun plays in his orange spiky hair, and when he turns his head, I see a scar peeking through shirt along his chin I'd somehow missed yesterday."Second and third-years, I'm assuming you know where to go."Luke continues as the scribes wind their way around the edge of the courtyard to my right, headed back to their quadrant. I ignore the tiny voice inside me protesting that it was supposed to be my quadrant. Lingering on what could have been isn't going to help me survive to see tomorrow's sunrise. There's a mutter of agreement from the senior cadets ahead of us. As first-years, we're in the back two rows of the little square that makes up Second Squad."First-years, at least one of you should have memorized your academic schedule when it was handed out yesterday." Luke voice booms over us, and it's hard to reconcile this stern-faced, serious leader with the funny, grinning guy I've always known. "Stick together. I expect you all to be alive when we meet this afternoon in the sparring gym."Fuck, I'd almost forgotten that we're sparring today. We only have the gym twice a week, so as long as I can get through today's session unscathed, I'm in the clear for another couple of days. At least I have some time to get my feet under me before we'll have to handle the Gauntlet... the terrifying vertical obstacle course they told us we'll have to master when the leaves turn colors in two months. If we can complete the final Gauntlet, we'll walk through the natural box canyon above it that leads to the flight field for Presentation, where this year's dragons willing to bond will get their first look at the remaining cadets. Two days after that, Threshing will occur in the valley beneath the citadel. I glance around at my new squadmates and can't help but wonder which of us, if any, will make it to that flight field, let alone that valley.Don't borrow tomorrow's trouble."And if we're not?" the smart-ass first-year behind me asks. I don't bother looking, but Mira does, rolling her eyes as she turns back forward."Then I won't have to be concerned with learning your name, since it will be read off tomorrow morning," Luke answers with a shrug. A second-year ahead of me snorts a laugh, the movement jangling two small hoop earrings in her left lobe, but the pink-haired one stays silent."Natsu?" Luke looks at the first-year to my left."I'll get them there."The tall, wiry cadet whose light complexion he answers with a tight nod. His jaw ticks, and my chest pangs with sympathy. He's one of the repeats... a cadet who didn't bond during Threshing and now has to start the entire year over."Get going," Luke orders, and our squad breaks apart around the same time the others do, transforming the courtyard from an orderly formation to a crowd of chatting cadets. The second- and third-years walk off in another direction, including Luke.
We have about twenty minutes to get to class," Natsu shouts at the eight of us first-years. "Fourth floor, second room on the left in the academic wing. Get your shit and don't be late."He doesn't bother waiting to confirm we've heard him before he heads off toward the dormitory."That has to be hard,"Mira says as we follow the crowd toward the dorms. "Being set back and having to do this all over again.""Better than being dead," the smart-ass says as he passes us on the right, his dark-brown hair flopping against the brown skin of his forehead with every step the shorter cadet takes. His name is Gray, if I remember correctly from the brief introductions we went through before dinner last night."That's true," I reply as we head into the bottleneck that's formed at the door."I overheard a third-year say when a first-year survives Threshing unbonded, the quadrant lets them repeat the year and try again if they want," Mira adds, and I can't help but wonder how much determination it would take to survive your first year and then be willing to repeat it just for the chance you might one day become a rider. You could just as easily die the second time around.A bird whistles to the left, and I look over the crowd, my heart leaping because I immediately recognize the tone. Luke.
The call sounds again, and I narrow it down to somewhere near the door to the rotunda. He's standing at the top of the wide staircase, and the second our eyes lock, he motions toward the door with a subtle nod."I'll be... " I start saying to Mira no, but she's already followed my line of sight."What?" he asks.The voices around us grow louder, and there are more footsteps coming and going."You bonded a dragon. You have powers I don't even know about. You open doors with magic. You're a squad leader." I say the sentences slowly, hoping they'll sink in, that I'll truly grasp how much he's changed. "It's just hard to wrap my head around you still being...lucky.""I'm still me." His posture softens, and he lifts the short sleeve of his tunic, revealing the relic of a red dragon on his shoulder. "I just have this now. And as for the powers, Callan channels a pretty significant amount of magic compared to some of the other dragons, but I'm nowhere near adept at it yet. I haven't changed that much. As for lesser magic powered through the bond of my relic, I can do the typical stuff like open doors, crank up my speed, and power ink pens instead of using those inconvenient quills."
"What's your signet power?"Every rider can do lesser magic once their dragon begins channeling power to them, but the signet is the unique ability that stands out, the strongest skill that results from each unique bond between dragon and rider. Some riders have the same signets. Fire wielding, ice wielding, and water wielding are just a few of the most common signet powers, all useful in battle.