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alanaever · 14 days

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I made my choices.

For hurricane, JustAlliHere. For the Fourth Wing Birthday Bash!

Thank you to @justallihere and @skyfallscotland (tumblr) for organizing!

Dialogue prompt:"How does it feel to not get your way?"from Jana-@creativepromptsforwriting.

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Brennan Sorrengail, Type of death: violent Age: 24 Sex: male Date of death: assumed 1st July

Comments: shot through the chest with an arrow, death immediate. However unnecessary physical trauma was exerted on the body after death; the lungs, liver, intestines and stomach were fully removed cut up and scattered around the body. The heart and brain are partially removed and the head is partially attached. Blood had been drained and used to paint phases and depictions of Lilith Sorrengail’s other children in similar states of disembowelment.

This is a brutal mutilation suspected conducted by Fen Riorson himself, one that goes against Tyrrish respect for the dead on a great account allowing it to be known the Tyrrish have lost all respect for human life. We all know the gods don’t allow incomplete corpses to enter their kingdom. The corpse was burnt on sight. There was no pressing need to burden a family that has given so much to Navarre’s cause with those images.

Unnecessary physical trauma exerted on the body… heart and brain partially removed… blood drained.

Brennan was dead.

We read the reports, we weren’t supposed to not after Dad’s first heart attack upon reading them. A heart attack I didn't know about till I read the reports and the medical advisement underneath for them not to be shown to the remaining siblings.

I was in battle brief when I heard 20 to his 24. “Squadron 6 of Summerton engaged in battle against the Tyrrish forces on Tuesday evening… they were successful in pushing back the Tyrrish forces to Aretia,” the cheers. God the cheers.

Granted there were Tyrrish in the room and a brawl nearly kicked off but god I cheered not knowing… “During this battle, all members of the squadron were killed. Most notably a siphon and a mender two of the rarest signets in our arsenal.” I remember the dread then, the desperation, the hope that it was someone else anyone else. I sat wishing death upon every one of the five menders in Navarre’s military desperate that this one wasn’t mine.

“The Mender is suspected of being in close combat with Fen Riorson and managed to push him back into the boarders, however, he left himself exposed when he put himself in the way of one of Fen’s arrows to protect a group of civilians both Navarrian and Tyrrish… all of the civilians survived thanks to this. The syphon died channelling power into the mender to aid him in repairing the damage done by the arrow unfortunately it wasn't enough they both died in the process.”

I knew, I don't know how I did but I just knew. Devera’s voice had somehow conveyed some kind of knowledge of my Brother’s demise. I sat staring at my desk not daring to look up and meet eyes with the professors fearful that they would confirm what I already knew. Brennan was dead and so was Naolin the person who meant everything to Bren even if he would never tell.

Brennan was dead.

But someone else asked for me. “Who were the members of the squadron,” a shaky voice, likely another younger sibling.

“The Squadron was comprised of: Antonia Hows - an ice welder, Mayra Rice - an air wielder, Jaxson Wixinstien - a visual manipulator, Brax Sahali” There's a sharp intake of breath from one of the fourth wing squads “- an astral projector, Naolin Velasco” there are whispers with this name Tairn, Tairn’s rider. But all I can think of is the certainty that Brennan is gone. “- the siphon and Brennan Sorrengail - the mender.” I remember breathing in deeply through my nose and swallowing. Eyes were suddenly on me with force the name Sorrengail means something in these parts it always has.

Brennan was dead.

I asked for the report and was told it wasn't being distributed to cadets, I asked if it was being distributed to family. I was told it was at the desecration of the general. The General said no.

That night I crept into the archives I searched high and low until I found it and her. It seemed Violet had got there before me. Her features had changed in the year we’d been apart but they were distorted now through tears as she sat reading long reports. We held each other tightly as we read the autopsy, the battle logs everything. That day burned into my soul the words etched into my brain like I was Violet capable of repeating every word I’d ever read i will never forget it.

Brennan was dead.

Brennan was dead. But he isn’t any more.

Brennan was dead or is alive or was dead or is dead.

Brennan was dead.

I don’t sleep that night. But I wake in the morning from a dream I’m scared to examine. Brennan was dead.

I dress slowly in the unfamiliar room and open the door slowly to find a guard at my door.

“Lieutenant Sorrengail,” I nod.

“Is there a Lieutenant Colonel Brennan here? I don’t recall the surname,” there's a desperation in my voice that I wish I could mask.

“There is no Brennan here Miss. That is a Navarrian name, not a Tyrrish one.” Brennan is dead. “Can I take you to the lieutenant colonel perhaps he can aid you,”

“Yes… please,” the desperation won't go and the guard looks at me with something akin to pity.

I walked through vast hallways that reminded me of Castle Calldyr but I barely paid attention till the guard was rapping on an ornate wooden door and a muffled voice was saying enter.

The guard is pushing open the door and gently cajoling me inside before stepping back and closing it gently. The figure at the desk doesn’t look up from the paperwork on their desk as I enter so I don’t speak I stand still and wait.

Brennan was dead.

The room is familiar it reminds me of Mum and Dad’s office back home in Calldyr but it’s all whites and pale browns and marble where as there had been black and deep mahogany with onyx granite surfaces. It’s sleek and modern Navarrian in styling not Tyrrish and a contrast to the rest of this estate. I wonder if he put it together himself or if it was done as a reminder of who he is by someone else. I like it.

Brennan sits up after about 20 minutes his eyes locking with mine. He stands up but doesn't move.

“You shouldn’t be her Mira,” he says covering paperwork with blank pieces of paper, I’m a Sorrengail after all and he is not.

“What’s your name,” it’s a strange ask, but if there’s no Brennan here then he’s changed his entire identity. The only child of two loyal parents of the Tyrrish Apostasy that kind of thing.

“You’ve known me for 26 years, Mira,”

“You used to be Brennan Sorrengail, no Brennan of any kind exists in Tyrrandor.” He breathes a sigh.

“Damien Aiserigh,” I laugh hollowly and he raises an eyebrow.

“Very clever, Aiserigh - Tyrrish for resurrection, Damien - Tyrrish for loyalty but originating from the name Damon which is Navarrian for Silver, with the letter D meaning 30 in numerals. 30 pieces of silver traitor to Navarre, loyal to Tyrrandor,” I laugh again.

“I thought you never paid all that much attention to Dad’s teachings but you got it as quickly as Vi and she was the first person to ever figure it out.”

“Don’t speak to me about our father, Violet might be happy to reminisce with you but I’m not.”

“Violet won’t discuss it either, you’re not unique in that way Mira.” His tone is dry and I hate it it speaks of boredom and having better. Things to do. “What are you doing here Mira, who brought you there’s sensitive information all over here and I have a meeting in five minutes,”

“Shall I go, find someone to shove me in the dungeons I'm sure there are some promises diplomats around to lock me up or some Tyrrish ones,”

“Mira.” The voice is short.

“Yes, Damien,”

“Don’t call me that,”

I’d have said something else in the past but the idea of getting into a petty name argument is to siblingy to Bren and Miry, not Mira and Brennan.

“don’t you care how many people you’ve killed, don’t you feel remorse for the families you’ve torn apart.” He accuses.

“It happens on both sides of the border Damien, they killed my friends as well,”

“You don’t have friends Mira, you never have,”

“I had friends. Had friends. Get it because they're dead. I’m not ashamed of what I did to avenge them and protect myself,”

“You killed innocent people, innocent flyers,”

“What’s the difference between a flyer and a rider Brennan do explain it to me, they fought to protect their home we fought to protect ours we didn't have the full story that’s the only fucking difference,” I’m raising my voice now his disregard for me, for his fucking sister hurts.

“You killed civilians Mira, battle of Strythmore, I read the reports,”

“So did they, attack on Draithus, a school was blown up with their explosive arrows,”

“It’s propaganda Mira use your fucking head.”

“I WAS THERE. Don’t you fucking tell me to use my head? You use yours there is no good and evil not with soldiers were weapons used by the elites to fulfil their agendas, they killed civilians to Brennan.”

“You personally, singlehandedly slaughtered a village. They did not.”

“I have never laid hands upon a child don’t you dare accuse me of such a thing.” “You have killed more children through your strategies with the flyers than I ever have. Read the fucking report at Strythmore if you know it so well I didn’t do it for Navarre I did it because they killed my friend, stripped the skin of her back and burnt her to death, I killed them for it. I have no remorse.”

“Mira,”

“Don’t you Mira me, don’t pretend to care.”

“I do care,”

“No you fucking don’t, if you did your first words to me this morning would have been an apology or asking me if I’m alright but instead it’s ‘Why are you here,’ let me cover up my paperwork because I don’t trust you,”

“Do you blame me,”

“Who else is there to blame, you left us Brennan, you destroyed our lives for what? This is not a successful revolution in a thriving city you’ve accomplished nothing in six years but destroying your own family,” he shoves me hard and I smack my head into the wall.

“Scared of the truth, don’t want to hear it. You killed our father,”

“He died two years later,”

“He died six months later after a series of heart attacks that followed reading your gruesome death autopsy,”

“Six months,” “well that autopsy was a fabrication as well so that’s hardly my fault,”

“You stayed dead Brennan, you choose strangers over your family,”

“Yes because our mother was such a good-” “Don’t you fucking pretend to be hard done by her your not Vi you can’t claim that accolade, she loved you more than anything in the fucking world Brennan,”

“She sent me to die,”

“She fought on the front lines all her life Brennan she was there up until you left the quadrant or did you forget this in your desire to feel mistreated and betrayed,”

“We were your family, we mourned you,”

“I mourned you, I missed you,”

“You didn’t miss me enough, didn't miss Violet enough,”

“Violet is not acting like this, she gets it,”

“Is that what you say to let you sleep at night, you don’t know anything about Violet. You don’t love her like I do. I’d die rather than leave her, rather than betray her.” I take a shaky breath. “You are ten years older than her Brennan anything you know is outdated information, you are four years older than me but six years changes people a great deal you know. You’ve changed beyond recognition. Have I?”

“I made a choice Mira I weighed the odds, and I chose what was right for the continent,”

“No Brennan you choose the easy option don’t kid yourself stay in Tyrrandor have a cushy job making treaties and patting yourself on the back with your fucking assembly that you're doing the right thing. Well, I’m sorry the right thing would have been to come home and use your social standing as the eldest child of a dynasty descended from the first 6, as someone from one of the wealthiest Navarrian households to make a fucking stand. Violet has made more of a stand in the last 3 days than you have in three years by forcing Riorson’s hand and making him tell the cadets.”

“You know who had social standing Fen Riorson,”

“You know who had more YOU.” “We like to pretend that were an honest good military family, we had more fucking resources at our disposal than the Tauri dynasty. Nobody had really heard of the Riorsons until the succession unless you were Tyrrish or involved with the aristocracy, everyone has heard the name Sorrengail. So get the fuck off your high horse,”

“I’m late for my meeting Mira we can finish this another time, I’ll find you later,”

“Please don’t bother Brennan, you made your choices I made mine, Violet made hers. You just made shitty ones, but you won't admit it. Go to your meeting you chose them after all not us. Riorson and Tavis and the rest there your replacements for me and Violet goes strategies with them instead of cleaning up the mess you made of your family,”

“Your acting out Mira like a fucking spoilt brat,”

“You acting like we mean nothing to you Brennan and that hurts.”

“You mean something to me,”

“Not enough, you were everything to me and you abandoned me,”

“Mira,”

“How does it feel to not get your way, Brennan?”

“I never pretended this was an easy decision,”

“No, you didn’t you implied it, GO on get to your meeting fuck off,”

“I can’t leave you in here with my paperwork,”

“Why because I’m a Sorrengail, well Brennan you are too,”

“I wish I wasn’t every day,”

“Glad you finally admitted it so I’ll leave and let you get back to the city you loved more than us,”

“I did miss you, Mira,”

“Don’t kid yourself,”

“Mira,”

“Miry,” I turn then and smash my fist into his jaw.

“Don’t you fucking call me that, you're not my brother or my sister you can’t call me that,”

“I’m your Fucking brother,”

“My brother died a long time ago,”

“Mira, let me make it right. Sit down we can talk we can do anything please,”

“I wanted to talk earlier you didn’t, thank you for your time Lieutenant Colonel” I walk out the door to the panicking shout of:

“MIRA”

#the empyrean #fourthwing fanfic #Fourthwing birthday bash

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alanaever · 21 days

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About me !

Hi! I'm Alana (She/Her)

I write fanfiction for the Empyrean, I'm incredibly delusional and think I’m Violet Sorrengail.

My favourite colour is pink, I love Lana del Rey and come up with random scenes to music on a whim, and then think I should write them.

Below you'll find links to my work/fandom & some FAQ

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✧ Fandoms/Works

Fourth wing:

Currently posting

- Xaden’s POV of Iron Flame.

Clue in the title. Behind the scenes of what went on with the marked ones and at Samara. Focuses primarily on Xaden’s friendships and relationships negative and positive as well as giving context in the form of my theories about Xaden’s life before the rebellion as well as Violet's life before the quadrant. Each chapter has an epigraph that tells a story from a character perspective that I make up.

Snippet from Chapter 1

"She is standing right here," she snaps, and hell, Violet speaking Tyrrish is... There are no words for the emotion I feel. All I know is that I want to pick her up, deposit her on the throne and... No. Trust first. I look about to gauge the Assembly's reaction to how screwed they are and an unflattering amount of satisfaction courses through me at the number of jaws that drop in front of me.

On Hiatus

- Beneath the Willow tree

I read Willow in the Breeze and got immediately inspired I do have a plan to continue this story but I've hit writer's block on it at the moment and I have other projects to work on. The first two chapters are my idea of the night of Willow’s conception, and the 3rd is Xaden returning from the army and setting the scene for his life and why he may or may not be the most advisable parent…

Chapter 4 has been drafted but I need to further flesh out the plot before I take it off hiatus and start posting more regularly.

Snippet from Chapter 1

“Not much of a drinker?” I ask.

“Not really,” he says, apparently unembarrassed to be drinking what is commonly held to be a teenager's drink.

I mentally tick another mark in the pro column. I like a guy sober enough to know what he’s about.

“Let me guess,” I ask “You’re the mum's friend.”

His mouth does another half smirk, but he doesn’t respond I have a feeling I’m dead on the money

“What about you?” he asks.

I lean on the bar, tilting my head up to look at him. “I’m the friend the mum friend always has to talk out of perfectly amazing ideas.”

Behind-the-scenes works

- part one of a series called two sides of the same coin, - ‘traitors’

Has been plotted and planned extensively and I am currently writing the first draft, unlike my other works this will be a story I write behind the scenes and post one chapter at a time when I’m ready and pleased with the result.

The plot is inspired by Storm in the Quiet which if you haven't read it please please check out it’s an amazing piece of work. It is the story of Violet's first year if Tyrrandor succeeded. So no Xaden and no marked ones at Basgiath. Unlike SITQ Tairn tells Violet about the venin and she takes on a Role similar to Xaden in Book 1, Xaden and the marked ones will not be present in Book 1 of this series but will be introduced in Book 2 if my plans are followed.

Snippet from Chapter 2

No dragon bonds an injured rider. And no dragon would look twice at her due to her stature she’s small and smaller than most human women and there's a frailness in her physique despite her competence with daggers she is not a natural fighter but a learned one out of necessity.

I think I make up my mind then.

- what if we all left

A story centring on the premise that Mira and the rest of the Sorrengails left Basgiath to fight for the rebellion believing violet to have been compromised by the scribe quadrant. They reunite years later and find a completely different sister to the one they left behind, who has been through some shit.

Snippet

I lunge for the knife without thinking and take it to slash at the family portrait in the hall of the smiling faces from years ago who don’t yet realise their lives will end so soon. I kick down the carved bookcases sending papers to the floor i smash 3 pictures 5, 7, all of them till there's nothing left but the carnage of my life.

But it’s still not enough, I reach for a bottle of bleach from under the sink and take the cap off showing it over the cushions, the floor anywhere in reach.

- then we were Venin.

A story where Violet and possibly Xaden ( to be confirmed ) turn Venin and end up being tried for treason after capture only for people to discover the truth. There could be a child in this story but it would be post pregnancy and the child would be around 10 years old.

No snippet I haven't yet written anything for this work.

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✧ FAQ

Do you have an updated schedule?

No, I did try to do one but I’m still in university so I write as and when it suits me. I do try to get updates out sooner if people enjoy the chapters so if you're irritated due to a cliffhanger let me know and I'll do my best to deliver ;))

Can I bind your fic?

Yes provided it’s for personal or non-profit use. I’m a major advocate for keeping fanfic free especially as a lot of the work I do is not entirely OC and the rights and ownership of the characters belong to RY.

Can I use a scenario/character in your fic for my own or write something inspired by your fic?

Yes provided I’m referenced as the inspiration for the scene or as the creator of the character otherwise I'd love to read anything people come up with xx

#fourth wing #iron flame #the empyrean #fanfic #ao3 writer #ao3 fanfic #fourthwing fanfic

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