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following text has been faithfully transcribed from Navarrian into the modern language by Jesinia Neilwart, Curator of the Scribe Quadrant at Basgiath War College. All events are true, and names have been preserved to honor the courage of those fallen. May their souls be commended to Malek.
“Touch me and I swear to the gods, I’ll cut your fucking hands off and let the quadrant sort you out in the next round of challenges, Dain Aetos.”
“You do not have the right to burn what is mine.” His words consume all my mental pathways as Tairn lets loose an earth-shattering roar in Solas’s direction.
I’m so damn in love with him that it hurts, and for the moment, I can’t remember why I’m denying myself.
Maybe I can’t fully trust him, but I also can’t stand to be away from him.
In the years after my father died, I forgot what it felt like to be loved. Then I entered the quadrant and became the monster everyone needed me to be, and I never regretted it. But then you gave those words to me, and I remembered…and nearly lost you, too.
He kisses me like I’m the answer to every question. Like everything we’ve been and will be hinges on this moment. And maybe it does.
I cry out when he dislocates the first finger. Then scream when he breaks it.
“I will happily watch Aretia burn to the fucking ground again if it means you live.”
I’m grateful my life is tied to yours because it means I won’t have to face a day without you in it.
My heart only beats as long as yours does, and when you die, I’ll meet Malek at your side.
“Welcome to your first official Battle Brief as traitors,”
I reach for the buckle of Dain’s belt
It flows through me, filling my muscles, my veins, the very marrow of my bones until I am power and power is me.
“We do not eat our allies,” Tairn lectures. “Find another snack.”
“Nothing you could ever do would be unforgivable to me.”
“Good idea. I could use a snack.” Andarna’s tone is indecently excited. “We do not eat our allies,” Tairn lectures. “You never let me have any fun.”
“It’s already snowing up the pass. I bet we get seven inches tonight.” “Maybe more if you’re good.”
The breath of life of the six and the one combined and set the stone ablaze in an iron flame.
What we’re about to do is borderline treason, but I can’t imagine doing this any other way.
“You’ll tear down the wards yourself when the time comes.”
“And you won’t do it for something as trite as power or as easily satiable as greed,” he promises in a whisper, “but for the most illogical of mortal emotions—love. Or you’ll die.” He shrugs. “You both will.”
Nothing kills powerful, unshakable love faster than opposing ideologies.
know there’s a thin line between devotion and obsession, between cowardice and self-preservation, and I’m walking it when it comes to you. I love you so fucking much that I ignored every warning signal last year, and now half the time I don’t know what side of that line I’m standing on
“What’s your second signet?” His eyes widen, and the blood drains from his face as his hand falls away.
It was never our continent. From the very beginning, it was theirs, and we were simply allowed to live here.
“But to slay another dragon is a heavy mark upon the soul, even when in defense of yourself or your rider.”
“How am I supposed to really love you if I don’t know you?” I can’t, and I think we both know it.
He’d read Dain’s mind. Xaden is more dangerous than I ever imagined. “You’re an inntinnsic,” I whisper. Even the accusation is a death sentence among riders.
Tairn growls low in his throat and lowers his head at Sgaeyl as a rush of something bitter and sick floods our bond. Betrayal.
“Less than a minute,” Xaden whispers as Sgaeyl moves toward him—toward us. “That’s how long it took for you to fall out of love with me.”
“Do not speak to her as if death is a possibility,” Tairn snaps, slamming his own shields around us both, an impenetrable wall of black stone, blocking out Xaden and Sgaeyl.
I’m quickly learning it’s possible to love someone and not want to be with them at the same time.
“I could torch him if you would like,” Tairn offers. “But you do seem attached.”
Maybe I’m becoming complacent with betrayal because it’s fucking everywhere.
“You’re capable of hurting me in ways I’m not sure you’ve even begun to fathom, Violet. I might be skilled enough to land a death blow, but you alone have the power to fucking destroy me.”
“You could throw my entire world into upheaval, and I would still love you. You could keep secrets, run a revolution, frustrate the shit out of me, probably ruin me, and I would still love you. I can’t make it stop. I don’t want to. You’re my gravity. Nothing in my world works without you.”
the atmosphere has changed from war college to straight up war.
Going might risk death, but staying risks us becoming just like our enemy.
The humming stops. The wards have fallen.
Barlowe has just killed his own dragon. It’s unfathomable. Impossible.
“Jack’s turned venin. Somehow, he managed it within the wards.”
“We are underpowered. However, the odds may be against us, but the gods are with us. Whether you left after Threshing or stayed, we are all Navarrian riders, bonded for the purpose of defending dragonkind in the darkest hour, and this is it.”
The darkest hour on the longest night of the year.
I will not die today. I can’t say the same about tomorrow.
“No matter how much I would rather lock the door and let the rest of the world burn around us.” “We can.”
“I love you. The world does not exist for me beyond you.”
I pull lightning from the sky so quickly that I no longer feel like I direct the storm. I am the storm.
The easiest way to defeat a dragon is to kill its rider. Though the creature will most likely survive the blow, it will be stunned long enough to be felled.
“Catch me.”
