Survival Of The Fittest- A Fourth Wing Fan Fiction

Chapter 3

That night, I snagged the bed next to Remi. One of our squad mates, Sage, I think, is next to me. “You good?” Her eyes search my distant gaze. Sage's brother is Naolin. He died trying to save my sister and Remi's brother. I am not surprised we are already friends. Violet and Rhiannon take beds on Remi's other side.

I managed to sneak out onto the rooftop to watch the sunset. The blends of oranges, reds, and pinks blend beautifully. I hear footsteps, but I don't turn. The figure sits next to me. “What are you doing?” Xaden’s distinctive voice breaks through the peaceful silence. “Curfew is going into effect. You should be in the first-year dorms.”

“Why would I need to give you that Riorson?” I spit out his name. He doesn't know how much his father's rebellion cost me.

“That was an order, Cadet,” my Wingleader snaps.

“If you must know,” I roll my eyes, “I am watching the sunset.” I glance at him. His eyes are wide, clearly not expecting that answer. I shift slightly, and his eyes catch on the scars on my left arm. I stand and walk back to my dorm, leaving Xaden on the roof.

I am woken by Sage, shaking me. “Rylee, you need to get up if you want breakfast.”

“And by that,” my best friend chimes in, “she means get up, or she will drag you.” I groan and get up.

I eat a quick breakfast before we are rushed out to formation. Captain Fitzgibbons reads from the death roll, “Elena Sosa, Brayden Blackburn.” I stand between Remi and Liam. Today, everyone in the courtyard is wearing rider black. “Jace Sutherland, Dougal Luperco.” I lost track of how many people were killed a long time ago. Though, I remember seeing Violet and Rhiannon tense when Dylan's name was called a few minutes ago. “We commend their soles to Malek.” Fitzgibbons walks off the dais.

Our first class of the day was history. Afterward, we went to Battle Brief. Remi sat on my right and Liam on my left. Professor Devera stood in the center of the circular room. A large map of Navarre behind her. “Welcome to your first Battle Brief. In the past, riders have seldom been called into service before graduation. And if they were, they were always third-years who’d spent time shadowing forward wings, but we expect you to graduate with the full knowledge of what we’re up against. It’s not about just knowing where every wing is stationed, either.” Her eyes look over every first-year.

“You need to understand the politics of our enemies, the strategies of defending our outposts from constant attack, and have a thorough knowledge of both recent and current battles. If you can not grasp these basic topics, then you have no business on the back of a dragon.” Violet and Rhiannon are whispering back and forth, and I try my best to block them out. “This is the only class you will have every day because it’s the only class that will matter if you’re called into service early.” Professor Devera’s gaze catches on Violet, and her eyes flare. “Because this class is taught every day and relies on the most current information, you will also answer to Professor Markham, who deserves nothing but your utmost respect.”

The professor in cream colored robes walks into the room. He shares a word with Devera. She clearly told him Violet, his star pupil, was here. His head swung around, finding her. “It is the duty of the scribes not only to study and master the past but to relay and record the present,” he says, finally tearing his gaze away from Violet’s.  “Without accurate depictions of our front lines, reliable information with which to make strategic decisions, and—most importantly—veracious details to document our history for the good of future generations, we’re doomed, not only as a kingdom but as a society.” This information is hardly accurate, and this kingdom is already doomed. They did that to themselves when they erased venin from history, hoping to hide the truth.