"There's a misconception that it's kill or be killed in the Riders Quadrant. Riders, as a whole, aren't out to assassinate other cadets... unless there's a shortage of dragons that year or a cadet is a liability to their wing. Then things may get...interesting."

—Major Afendra's Guide to the Riders Quadrant (Unauthorized Edition)

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I stand before a rider, vigilance etched in their posture as they keep a meticulous tally at the parapet's opening. The intensity of their focus is mirrored by another rider who stands guard at the turret's side, their gaze searing into me like a fiery lance. The air thickens with an unmistakable animosity towards Violet, and the protective instinct within me ignites in response to their thinly veiled hatred.

"You're good to go, Nightsade," the rider says, and I nod in acknowledgment before making my way towards a man with short, tousled brown hair and a small dimple on his cheek. His features are softer, gentler than the striking, chiseled countenance of the Black Handsome One. As I approach, he looks up, his gaze brightening. "You must be Emberlyn Nightsade. Your... uhh, parent gave me permission to keep you and Sorrengail safe," he explains.

"I never imagined Mother Nightsade would show any concern," I remark offhandedly, shrugging my shoulder. "But it's fine, I suppose. I got paired with quite the looker, didn't I?" I tease, playfully nudging him in the ribs. He shuffles a bit, taken aback by my forwardness. "Uhh, sure. It's nice to meet you. I'm Dain Ateos," he introduces himself, offering a hand. I take it and shake it, a smile spreading across my face. "Nice to meet you, Ateos. I have a feeling we'll become good friends," I purr, my voice rich with warmth.

I release Dain's hand as Violet storms towards me, looking disheveled and distressed. My gaze shifts to the source of her distress—a blonde-haired man who approaches, his footsteps heavy and determined. He stops just short of the parapet, and I can't help but glare at him. "You killed someone, I see," I state, my voice carrying over the turret, drawing the attention of those around us.

The man scoffs, unperturbed by my accusation. "And what business is it of yours?" he retorts before descending the steps to converse quietly with the rider keeping tally. Both Dain and Violet tense at my side, their bodies rigid with unease as the man makes his way towards us.

I hold his gaze, my eyes igniting with a fiery green glint. "It's my business because I will be protecting Violet, no matter what you try," I assert, my voice brimming with determination. Leaning into his space, I spit my words with venom. "So keep your hands off her, or I'll personally feed you to my mother's dragon." My threat hangs in the air, the tension between us palpable as I make my stance on Violet's safety abundantly clear.

Violet's hand wraps around mine, her voice pleading. "Emberlyn, please, you don't—" I silence her with a sharp glare, straightening my posture and crossing my arms over my chest. "Now, is that clear, Jack Barlow?" I inquire, raising a brow for emphasis.

The man, Jack Barlow, blinks in surprise. "You... you know my name?" he sputters. I nod, tapping my temple with a smirk. "Your thoughts are quite loud, kid." My mind-reading abilities, another facet of my shapeshifting powers, give me an edge in this interaction, leaving Jack momentarily flustered.

Jack bows his head and shuffles away, defeated in our confrontation. I'm left standing with Dain and Violet, my gaze soon locking with the gold-flecked onyx eyes of none other than Xaden Riarson. A brief battle of wills ensues, but Xaden eventually looks away, signaling my victory in this minor skirmish.

Despite this small win, a sense of unease lingers in my mind. I know that Xaden won't let this go—he'll undoubtedly come after either me or Violet in the coming weeks, ensuring we'll never truly be free from his influence.

˗ˏˋ꒰ 🍒 ꒱
Violet, visibly annoyed, speaks up as we walk. "You didn't have to do that. I was fine," she huffs. The morning sun still hangs low in the sky, signaling the early hour—likely around nine o'clock. Scanning the area, I notice a marked reduction in cadets compared to the number of candidates earlier in line. The distinct presence of leather clothing indicates that the second- and third-year students have joined us, their curious gazes assessing the new cadets, including myself.

The rain subsides into a gentle drizzle, almost as if it had only visited to make the toughest test of my life even more challenging. But I did it. I'm alive. I made it.

As we pause, Dain also comes to a halt, sensing the sudden change in Violet's demeanor. "Hey, Vi, what's wrong?" he asks, his words stammering with concern. His hands hover uncertainly over her as she begins to tremble, clearly affected by something unseen.

Noticing her busted knee, I can't help but curse under my breath, "Fuck." My instinct is to heal her, but I pull my hand back, afraid of revealing my abilities. Fuck, I can't let anyone see this. I glance at Dain, keeping my composure. "Cover for us, will you, my dear?" I ask, and he flushes but nods softly, understanding the situation.

Scooping Violet into my arms, I carry her away from prying eyes. I'm older and stronger than her, so it's no effort at all. We pass by a rider guarding the turret door, who calls out after us, "Be back before they call your names in the hall." Ignoring him, I continue down the corridor, determined to help Violet without raising suspicion.

Violet's voice, tinged with pain, cuts through the air. "W-where are you taking me?" she stammers, tears glistening in her green eyes. My silver gaze meets hers as I reply, my tone sharp, "Oh, I don't know, somewhere I can heal you, perhaps?"

A door suddenly opens, revealing a room that's not hers or mine. I don't care whose room it is; all that matters is that Violet is comfortable while I tend to her injury. It's just like when we were kids, and she would always manage to stub her toe or something similarly silly, leaving her joints weak.

Violet starts to speak, but I interrupt her with a wave of my hand, sealing her lips momentarily. She squeals in surprise, but I ignore it and focus on her injured knee. My palms glow with a radiant golden light, shifting to green, then red as I concentrate. Closing my green eyes, I listen for a familiar sound—CRACK! The joint snaps back into place, causing Violet to wince in pain.

I help her sit up and lift the spell, allowing her to speak again. "What the hell was that?" she snaps, her voice laced with frustration and confusion.

"Magic," I respond simply, waving a hand dismissively. I offer her a silver-tipped cup filled with water. "Drink, it'll heal you," I instruct.

Violet takes the cup and drinks, but her tone remains skeptical. "Look, I know you're strong, but that was out of nowhere."

I shrug. "What can I say? I've been training my powers since we were going to be in the Riders' Quarters. Well, I was. You, on the other hand, were supposed to be a Scribe. But, eh, one cannot question the Gods' will."

"Did you know who that man was? The one who wanted to kill me?" Violet asks, her voice trembling.

"Young, you'll have to be more specific," I chide gently.

"The one with black hair," she clarifies.

I shrug. "Xaden, if I remember correctly."

Her eyes widen in recognition. "Wait, wait, Xaden Riarson?" she squeaks, the name clearly ringing a bell.

I nod, taking a seat on the creaking bed, the added weight causing it to groan. "Listen, you're going to stay here, and whoever this room belongs to, just tell them Emberlyn Nightsade brought you here so you could heal. If they try to kill you or drag you out, you'll know."Standing, I pat her head reassuringly. "Be careful, Silver One." With those parting words, I vanish from the room in an instant.