Every year, hundreds die within the walls of Basgiath War College. It's no surprise that many are those who choose the Riders Quadrant. Dragons do not tolerate much, but neither do the ruthless gryphons on the outside of the wards.
At least...
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・・・ ・・・ ・・・
I squeeze my eyes shut when the wind races against my face and stings my eyes. A moment later, he drops me to my feet, and I find a familiar wooden door in front of me. A Lucerish prayer is carved into the front panels, right under his hand as he pushes it open. "Go on." Slowly, I step inside. Someone gargles, choking on their cough from my left, and I startle. When I turn, I see a greasy mop of black hair.
My steps are careful as I round out in front of the couch. Xaden coughs into a fist before his head reels toward me. There's a distinct vermillion bordering his dark eyes, every speck of gold in their abyss looking sickly green. "(N/N)," he rasps. I look down at myself, suddenly realizing I'm in rider leathers, then up at my grandfather in a panic.
His hands hover just over Xaden's head until they're right in position. "You must love them to save them," he tells me. I watch, horror burning down my throat as his hands grip down, and his arms lash out. Xaden's neck cocks toward me with a loud crack. "No!" I scream, dropping to my knees before him. Light fills the room as I realize how dark it had been. "No!" I look up. The man above me is no longer my grandfather, but the Sage. His gaze bears down on me as I fall back onto my hands. "Do you love him?"
My palms burn as I stutter in my breaths. The bones in my chest already ache from my fast heart and I relax my hands. I sit up in my bed, feeling my blanket fall off of my torso as I glance around. Just a dream. I reach up and rub my eyes, sending my headache into full bloom across my head. Like every morning, I first take two tablets of painkillers before I even get out of bed. The healers have been giving me concerned looks when I come to get the bottle every Wednesday.
My arm sears when I try to move it. I look down and then grimace as the fog of yesterday starts to clear. My arm right arm and leg had been charred by Solas. Between how tired Nolon has been and the amount of people with worse burns than mine, I'm low on the mending list right now. I think the only reason I didn't get my entire back singed was my mother's protection charm.
Xaden never showed up yesterday. I hadn't even thought about it with the chaos of everything. I get up, seeing it's just before three in the morning. My entire body is aching so I get up to stretch. As I do, I pull into my connections. I can feel Tairn's radiating anger and distinctly cannot feel Xaden or Sgaeyl, so I know I didn't miss them. He didn't show.
I drag in a breath as fear ripples down my throat. What are the chances someone decided to kill him? I can't imagine they're that low. With another breath, I force my eyes open, and they catch on the maroon fabric draped over the door of my new armoire. Maybe I'll be the one to kill him, insulting me with beginner's guides to my own culture.
