Third Wing

Chapter One

McKell's Perspective:

It's Conscription Day. The deadliest day of the year. Only six months of training, and it's already here. Even after all that training, though, I'm still panting on my way up the stone staircase of our home, my large canvas rucksack digging into my shoulders. My legs burn and my chest constricts. I look over at my twin, Elise, to see her having as much trouble as I am. 

We're screwed. 

Hundreds of the people getting ready to join the Riders Quadrant have been preparing for this day from birth. We haven't been so lucky. Our greatest, and really only, advantage is that we are both easily forgettable and are often ignored. I tend to stand out more than my twin because of my silver hair, but besides that, no one pays attention to us. 

Our mother may be in command at the War College, but that doesn't mean we'll get any special treatment. In fact, it may actually draw the wrong kind of attention to us. We'll just have to do our best to blend into the shadows, like we usually do. 

We finally reach our mother's office, and we hear a familiar voice on the other side of the door. "You're sending them to die!" I gasp. There's only one person that could be. No one else would be foolish enough to raise their voice to the general. Our sister, Mya. But she's supposed to be on the border with the Eastern Wing. 

We can't make out the response from the other side of the door, and I watch as Elise reaches for the door handle. 

"They don't stand a chance!" Mya shouts as Elise shoves the heavy door open. The weight from her rucksack shifts forward, catching her off-balance and nearly sending her sprawling on the thickly carpeted floor. I grab her bag, catching her just before she face-plants. "Darn it, Mom, they can't even handle their rucksacks," Mya shouts, rushing to Elise.

"I'm fine!" She exclaims, a blush working its way up her neck. She may be embarrassed, but I'm grateful. Maybe this little incident will be enough to prove to Mom that we aren't meant for this. We've never been athletes and are sometimes downright clumsy. How are we going to survive in a place where the weak are killed, and sometimes even the strong?

"Oh, Elise," Mya says as she helps Elise to her feet.

"Hi, Mya," she says with a small smile. This may be the last time we ever see our sister, but I'm just glad we get to see her again after all these years. 

Mya squeezes Elise's shoulder lightly, then turns back towards our mother. "You can't do this," she says.

"It's already done," our mom says with a shrug. There's no compassion in her voice, no regret. But I guess that's how she got to this position. She's famous for her lack of mercy. 

"Then undo it," Mya begs. "They've spent their whole lives training to be healers. They weren't raised to be riders."

"Well, they certainly aren't you, are they, Lieutenant Sorrengail?" The differences between me and Elise compared to Mya are astounding. Mya is a younger version of our mother. She's muscular, tan, and has the same arrogance and need to be in the sky as her. She even has the same haircut. Me and Elise, on the other hand, are short and weak. We have no muscle, and our skin is an unhealthy pale from spending all our time indoors. 

Our mom shakes her head in disapproval at us. "I told him not to keep you two in that lab."

"We love that lab," I say. It's been over a year since our dad died, and his lab is still the only place that feels like home in this massive fortress. 

"Spoken like the daughter of a Healer," Mom says softly. 

"We are daughters of a Healer," I say.

"You're the daughters of a rider, you are twenty years old, and today is Conscription Day. I let you finish your tutoring, but like I told you last spring, I will not watch two of my children enter the Healer Quadrant."

"Because healers are so far beneath riders?" Elise gripes. 

"Yes! And if you dare walk into the tunnel toward the Healer Quadrant today, I will rip you out by those ridiculous braids and put you on the parapet myself."

I flinch. 

"Dad wouldn't want this!" Mya says, her voice full of anger. 

"I loved your father, but he's dead," Mom says without emotion. "I doubt he wants much these days."

I exchange a look with Elise, but we don't say anything. Arguing with Mom has never gotten us anywhere. Why should we expect today to be any different?

"Sending Elise and McKell into the Riders Quadrant is tantamount to a death sentence. They're not strong enough, Mom! They can't even do a push-up, they get tired walking from one side of the house to the other, and they aren't tall enough to mount any dragon big enough to keep them alive in battle!"

"Seriously, Mya?" I say.

"Are you calling us weak?" Elise asks angrily. Mya trying to convince our mother to let us go to the Healers Quadrant is one thing, but hearing her throw all our inadequacies in our faces is another. I'm hurt. 

"No," Mya says, grabbing our hands. "Well...maybe a little." I yank my hand out of Mya's grip and fold my arms. If our own sister doesn't think we can survive the Riders Quadrant, what chance do we actually have? Dragons don't bond with weak riders. They eat them. 

"So they're small," Mom says, examining both of us from head to toe. 

Elise snorts. "Are we just listing our faults now?"

"I never said it was a fault. Being small has many advantages."

"How many rider candidates die on Conscription Day, Mom?" Mya seethes. "Forty? Fifty? Are you that eager to bury another child?"

The temperature in the room drops thanks to Mom's signet power. She's able to wield storms with her channeling power. 

I cringe at the mention of our brother, Bacon. No one has mentioned him in the five years since he died fighting in the Tyrrish rebellion. Dad's chest pains started right after Bacon's death, as well. 

Mom glares at Mya and she straightens, but she doesn't look away.

"Mom, she didn't mean—" Elise starts.

"Get. Out. Lieutenant. Before I report you absent from your unit without leave." 

Mya freezes, then turns on her heel and walks out the door. 

Mom turns back to me and Elise, then says, "You both scored in the top quarter for speed and agility during the entrance exam. You'll do just fine. All Sorrengails do just fine."

We stand in silence for a few heartbeats before she says, "I guess I'll see you both in the valley at Threshing, candidates. Though you'll be cadets by sunset, I suppose."

I don't even want to consider the alternative. 

"Good luck," she says, turning away from us. 

"Thank you, General," I say as we adjust our bags and walk out the door.