Chapter Text
Fire crackled around her.
Orange flames climbed towering trees, devouring bark and branches alike while smoke curled thick through the forest air. The scent of ash burned her lungs with every breath as distant screams echoed somewhere beyond the flames.
Xera spun slowly, scanning the burning woods.
Nothing.
Then movement flickered between the trees.
A figure cloaked in deep purple stood motionless beneath the firelight.
Venin.
The word settled heavily in her chest.
The hooded figure tilted its head before turning and bolting deeper into the forest.
Xera took off after it instantly.
Branches whipped against her arms as she sprinted through the smoke. The venin moved unnaturally fast, but not fast enough. It was almost as if it wanted her to catch up.
Crimson energy flickered faintly around Xera’s fingertips as she lunged forward.
Within seconds, she grabbed the back of the venin’s robe and swung.
Her fist connected with its face—
Pain exploded across her cheek.
“What the fuck!”
Xera jerked upright in bed just in time for a second pillow to smack directly into her face.
Ruth Graythorn stood at the foot of her bed with another pillow already raised threateningly.
“Finally,” Ruth groaned. “I was two seconds away from setting your blankets on fire.”
Xera rubbed her cheek with a glare. “You hit like a damn infantry soldier.”
“You sleep like the dead.” Ruth tossed the pillow aside before planting her hands on her hips. “Get up before we’re late for post assignments.”
Xera blinked a few times, forcing the remnants of the dream away.
Fire.
Purple robes.
The feeling of impact.
Her stomach twisted uneasily.
“Xera!”
“I’m awake,” she muttered.
“Physically? Maybe. Mentally? Debatable.”
Xera snorted softly before dragging herself out of bed.
Conscription Day.
The first-years would already be gathering below the parapet by now. Another year of hopeful idiots willingly throwing themselves into Basgiath’s death trap.
She quickly changed into her uniform, braiding her black hair into her usual crown braid while Ruth continued rambling nearby about how many first-years were probably going to die before lunch.
“I say someone vomits on the parapet,” Ruth said.
“Only one?” Xera asked dryly.
Ruth gasped dramatically. “Gods, you’re optimistic today.”
Xera smirked despite herself.
The dream still lingered in the back of her mind, sharp and wrong, but she shoved it aside as they headed toward the cafeteria.
The halls of Basgiath buzzed louder than usual. Riders moved quickly through corridors, uniforms crisp, dragons roaring faintly somewhere beyond the fortress walls.
Excitement.
Anxiety.
Blood in the water.
Conscription Day always brought out the worst in everyone.
The moment Xera stepped into the cafeteria, conversations dipped slightly.
Not silent.
Never fully silent.
But enough.
Some riders glanced toward her before immediately looking elsewhere again.
Others straightened instinctively.
Ruth snorted beside her. “You’d think they saw a damn death omen.”
“Maybe they did.”
“That was concerningly dramatic.”
A familiar laugh echoed across the cafeteria.
“Well, look who finally decided to wake up,” Garrick called loudly from the leadership table.
“Careful,” Xera shot back. “I’m still emotionally unstable before breakfast.”
“That implies stability after breakfast,” he replied immediately.
Fair point honestly.
A few people laughed nearby while Xera rolled her eyes.
As she separated from Ruth and made her way to the table, Garrick, Bodhi, Dain, and other leadership were already seated there.
Then another familiar voice drifted across the room.
“She’s always unstable. Breakfast changes nothing.”
Imogen lounged across one of the benches nearby with her boots kicked onto the seat opposite her.
“It’s too early for slander,” Xera muttered.
Imogen grinned unapologetically. “And yet here we are.”
“Honestly,” Garrick added while rubbing tiredly at his face, “if she starts threatening first-years before sunrise again, I’m leaving.”
“I threatened ONE first-year.”
“You told him you’d throw him off the parapet yourself if he cried.”
“He stopped crying, though.”
Bodhi looked up from his papers calmly. “Fear is a powerful motivator.”
“See?” Xera pointed immediately. “Bodhi understands leadership.”
“That is not leadership,” Garrick groaned.
“It worked,” Xera defended.
A familiar presence tugged faintly at the edge of her awareness before she even turned.
Xaden approaches the leadership section, shadows curling lazily around his feet like they belonged there. His dark gaze flicked toward her immediately.
“There you are,” he said.
Xera sighed dramatically. “You say that like I tried escaping.”
“You did try escaping.”
“Allegedly.”
Bodhi snorted softly while Garrick muttered, “You literally climbed out a second-floor window.”
“Details.”
Xaden looked deeply unimpressed.
Several squad leaders had already gathered around the leadership table discussing assignments for the parapet.
Xera slipped into an empty seat while Xaden sat beside her, and the others continued arguing over positioning and crowd control.
Xera immediately stole fruit from Garrick’s tray.
Garrick looked ready to start a war over it.
“You can get your own plate.”
“And yours looked emotionally tastier.”
“That sentence physically hurt me.”
Everyone just ignored them all while reviewing assignment rotations because it is just a normal day with Garrick and Xera.
“We’ll need more riders near the southern edge,” Bodhi said calmly. “Last year the crowd bottlenecked there.”
“Because Xera started a betting pool,” Garrick replied.
“IN MY DEFENSE,” Xera started, “I made money.”
“Somehow that makes it worse,” Dain muttered.
Xera only half listened.
The dream kept clawing its way back into her thoughts.
Purple robes.
Fire.
Venin.
“You’re quiet,” Xaden said suddenly beside her.
Her attention snapped toward him.
“I’m always quiet.”
That earned several deeply offended noises around the table.
Bodhi stared flatly. “You once threatened a professor during lunch.”
“He deserved it.”
“You’re physically incapable of being quiet,” Garrick added.
Bodhi tilted his head thoughtfully. “You did punch a wall last week.”
“It was an emotional situation.”
“The wall was winning,” Garrick said.
Xera glared at all of them equally.
Traitors.
Xaden ignored the chaos entirely, gaze still fixed on her.
“You look troubled.”
Xera forced a shrug. “Bad sleep.”
His eyes narrowed slightly.
Like he didn’t believe her.
Which honestly? Fair.
Before he could question further, she pushed away from the table.
“I’m getting food before you vultures eat everything.”
“You mean before we heroically save it from abandonment,” Garrick corrected.
“That sounded more believable in your head.”
As she turned toward the food tables, a familiar voice slid smoothly into her mind.
“Liar.”
Her entire body stiffened.
Dark brown eyes met hers from across the cafeteria.
Leonard Silverrage leaned casually against one of the stone pillars with his arms crossed, expression infuriatingly calm.
Gods, she hated that he always seemed to know when something was wrong.
“Fuck off.”
She said through their bond before slamming her mental shields into place.
His mouth twitched slightly like he found her irritation amusing.
Of course he did.
As a matter of fact, why isn’t he sitting with leadership when he became one of the squad leaders?
“This much drama before sunrise?”
Akes, Xera’s dragon, drawled lazily through their bond.
“Impressive even for you.”
Xera rolled her eyes internally.
“You’re not helping.”
“I rarely do.”
She grabbed a tray before heading toward Ruth, who was already eyeing her suspiciously.
“You were sitting with leadership,” Ruth said slowly as Xera dropped into the seat beside her. “Why are you back here?”
Xera blinked once.
“…Right.”
Ruth stared.
“Oh, don’t give me that look.”
“You forgot you’re the executive officer?”
“In my defense, I didn’t want the position, and I am just the second in command. Garrick can handle everything”
“You still applied.”
“Because Xaden threatened my future.”
Ruth snorted loudly. “That sounds illegal.”
“It probably was.”
Xera glanced back toward the leadership section again before sighing dramatically and standing.
“You know,” Ruth called after her, “most people would kill for your rank.”
“Most people are exhausting.”
By the time she returned, Xaden was already looking at her expectantly.
“I was about three seconds away from dragging you back here myself,” he said.
“You’re so caring.”
“I’m practical.”
“Debatable.”
A faint smirk tugged briefly at the corner of his mouth before disappearing.
“We finalized assignments,” Bodhi said, sliding a map across the table.
Xera leaned over it lazily.
“You’re stationed with Xaden at the parapet,” Garrick added.
“No complaints there.”
“Mostly because she enjoys intimidating first-years,” Bodhi muttered.
“Fear builds character.”
“It builds therapy bills,” Garrick corrected.
Xera ignored them completely.
Liam would be crossing today.
A grin tugged unconsciously at her lips.
It had been too long since she’d seen him.
“I assume you placed me there because Xaden requires emotional support,” she said.
“I placed you there,” Xaden replied flatly, “because first-years panic less when you threaten them before I do.”
“That’s fair.”
“Also,” Garrick added dryly, “if anyone falls off the parapet, Xera can probably scare them back onto it.”
“That’s not how gravity works,” Bodhi muttered.
“For her?” Garrick sighed tiredly. “Honestly, who knows anymore.”
Xera smirked faintly while leaning back in her chair.
For the first time all morning, the lingering unease from the dream loosened slightly.
Liam was coming to Basgiath.
And somehow—
That made the entire fortress feel a little lighter.