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jcmarchi · 5 months

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8 ChatGPT tools for R programming

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8 ChatGPT tools for R programming

ChatGPT can answer questions about a wide range of technology subjects, including how to write R code. That means ChatGPT’s power is available to every R programmer, even those who know little about large language models.

An ecosystem is forming around ChatGPT and R, making it easy to incorporate AI technology into your R language workflow. But before you begin using LLMs and related tools for your R projects, there are a few important things to keep in mind:

Everything you ask using these tools gets sent to OpenAI’s servers. Don’t use ChatGPT tools to process sensitive information.

ChatGPT may confidently return incorrect answers. Even incorrect responses can be a starting point, and save you time, but don’t assume the code will do exactly what you expect. Kyle Walker (an associate professor at Texas Christian University and author of the popular tidycensus R package) tweeted that ChatGPT can “supercharge your work if you understand a topic well,” or it can leave you “exposed for not knowing what you are doing.” The difference is in knowing when the AI output isn’t right. Always check ChatGPT’s responses.

ChatGPT can also generate different responses to the same query—and some answers might be accurate while others aren’t. For instance, when I asked multiple times for a ggplot2 bar chart with blue bars, the code generated a graph with blue bars sometimes but not others, even though I submitted the same request each time. This is less than ideal if you need a reproducible workflow.

LLMs have training data cutoff dates, so if there’s been a recent update to a package you’re using, your tool of choice may not know about it.

Most of the resources in this article require you to have your own OpenAI API key, and the API isn’t free to use. While pricing is low at the moment, especially for GPT-3.5, there’s no guarantee it will stay that way.

Asking ChatGPT for coding help is unlikely to ensnare you in the ethics of AI racial and gender bias. However, there are heated discussions about the wisdom of furnishing OpenAI with yet more data; the ethics of how the training data was scraped and repurposed; and whether it’s better to use open source LLMs (such as Mistral’s) rather than OpenAI’s. Those dilemmas are for every individual and organization to wrangle for themselves. However, as of this writing, there simply aren’t R-specific LLM tools that are comparable to those building up around ChatGPT.

Now, let’s look at some of the most notable R-focused resources for using OpenAI’s GPT-3.5 and GPT-4 LLMs.

8 ChatGPT packages for R

The air package

TheOpenAIR package

RTutor

CodeLingo

askgpt

gptstudio

gpttools

gptchatteR

The air package

The air R package aims to create GitHub Copilot chat-like functionality for R users with two functions: howto() and whatis(). You can ask questions about how to write R code for a specific task using howto(), such as howto("How do I rotate x-axis text on a ggplot2 graph?"). Answers show up in your R console instead of within your R script, as happens with GitHub Copilot. That might be a bit less convenient. On the other hand, I found the responses quite good when using GPT-4 as my underlying model.

For example, when asking

howto("Create a bar chart in R where the bars are colored steel blue and the bars are ordered by descending Y value")

air responded with

# Generate example data set.seed(42) data <- data.frame( Category = factor(paste("Category", 1:10)), Value = sample(1:100, 10) ) # Order data by Value in descending order data$Category <- factor(data$Category, levels = data$Category[order(data$Value, decreasing = TRUE)]) # Load ggplot2 package library(ggplot2) # Create bar chart ggplot(data, aes(x = Category, y = Value, fill = "steelblue")) + geom_bar(stat = "identity") + scale_fill_identity() + theme_minimal()

GitHub Copilot gave me

# Create a bar chart in R where the bars are colored still blue and the bars are ordered by descending Y value ggplot(data = diamonds, aes(x = cut, fill = cut)) + geom_bar() + scale_fill_manual(values = "steelblue") + coord_flip() + theme_minimal() + theme(legend.position = "none") + labs(x = "Cut", y = "Count", title = "Bar Chart of Diamond Cut")

The GitHub Copilot code did not work (scale_fill_manual() is looking for one color for each category). GitHub Copilot uses an OpenAI Codex model for its responses. Copilot also offers unlimited use for a monthly fee, as does ChatGPT with the GPT-4 model; but using the OpenAI API within an application like this will trigger a charge for each query. Running three or four queries cost me less than a penny, but heavy users should keep the potential charges in mind.

The air package has excellent and elegant setup instructions on its GitHub README page, including a secure way to store your OpenAI key. The air::set_key() command triggers a pop-up window for securely storing the key in your system’s key ring. You can also set the OpenAI model you want to use with set_model() if you don’t want to use the gpt-4 default.

Note that this package is for R-related questions only and will not respond to questions about other programming languages. You don’t have to specify that you want code in R in your questions; I did that in my example to make the question comparable to what I asked GitHub Copilot.

The air package was created by Professor Soumya Ray at the College of Technology Management, National Tsing Hua University in Taiwan. It is available on CRAN.

TheOpenAIR package

TheOpenAIR package is an excellent choice for incorporating ChatGPT technology into your own R applications, such as a Shiny app that sends user input to the OpenAI API. You can register your key with the openai_api_key(“YOUR-KEY”) function.

Its chat() function gives you the option to print results to your console with

chat(“My request”), save results as text with my_results <- chat(“My request”, output = “message”), or return a complete API response object with my_results_object <- chat(“My request”, output = “response object”)

The response object is a list that also includes information like tokens used.

Other useful functions include count_tokens() to count the number of ChatGPT tokens a character string will cost when sent to the API, extract_r_code() to get R code from a ChatGPT response that includes a text explanation with code, and get_chatlog_id() to get the ID of the current ChatGPT (useful if you want to break up a complex application into smaller functions).

The package has some general coding functions, as well. For example, write_code(“filename”) generates a prompt asking for your input and in what language you want the code written. The refactor() syntax is R-specific and does what you’d expect:

Screenshot by Sharon Machlis for IDG.

Figure 1. Select the language for your generated code.

There are also functions to convert between Python and R or Java and R, although you may end up with a warning message that the conversion from R to Python could result in invalid Python code.

Run help(package = “TheOpenAIR”) in your R console to see its many other functions.

TheOpenAIR package was developed by Assistant Professor Ulrich Matter and PhD student Jonathan Chassot at the University of St. Gallen in Switzerland. It is available on CRAN.

RTutor

This app is an elegant and easy way to sample ChatGPT and R. Upload a data set, ask a question, and watch as it generates R code and your results, including graphics. Although it’s named RTutor, the app can also generate Python code.

RTutor is available on the web. It’s currently the only app or package listed that doesn’t require a ChatGPT API key to use, but you’re asked to supply your own for heavy use so as not to bill the creators’ account.

0 and red if Screenshot by Sharon Machlis for IDG.

Figure 2. Results when asking RTutor to create a bar chart.

The app’s About page explains that RTutor’s primary goal is “to help people with some R experience to learn R or be more productive … RTutor can be used to quickly speed up the coding process using R. It gives you a draft code to test and refine. Be wary of bugs and errors.”

The code for RTutor is open source and available on GitHub, so you can install your own local version. However, licensing only allows using the app for nonprofit or non-commercial use, or for commercial testing. RTutor is a personal project of Dr. Steven Ge, a professor of bioinformatics at South Dakota State University.

CodeLingo

This multi-language app “translates” code from one programming language to another. Available languages include Java, Python, JavaScript, C, C++, PHP and more, including R. This is a web application only, available at https://analytica.shinyapps.io/codelingo . You need to input your OpenAI API key to use it (you may want to regenerate the key after testing).

Screenshot by Sharon Machlis for IDG.

Figure 3. ChatGPT in the CodeLingo app attempts to translate ggplot2 graph code to Python.

A request to translate code for a ggplot2 R graph into JavaScript generated output using the rather hard-to-learn D3 JavaScript library, as opposed to something a JavaScript newbie would be more likely to want such as Observable Plot or Vega-Lite.

The request to translate into Python, shown in Figure 3, was more straightforward and used libraries I’d expect. However, ChatGPT didn’t understand that “Set1” is a ColorBrewer color palette and can’t be used directly in Python. As is the case for many ChatGPT uses, translating code between programming languages may give you a useful starting point, but you will need to know how to fix mistakes.

The app was created by Analytica Data Science Solutions.

askgpt

This package, available at https://github.com/JBGruber/askgpt, can be a good starting point for first-time users who want ChatGPT in their console, in part because it gives some instructions upon initial startup. Load the package with library(askgpt) and it responds with:

Hi, this is askgpt ☺. • To start error logging, run `log_init()` now. • To see what you can do use `?askgpt()`. • Or just run `askgpt()` with any question you want!

Use the login() function without first storing a key, and you’ll see a message on how to get an API key:

ℹ It looks like you have not provided an API key yet. 1. Go to <https://platform.openai.com/account/api-keys> 2. (Log into your account if you haven't done so yet) 3. On the site, click the button + Create new secret key to create an API key 4. Copy this key into R/RStudio

You’ll be asked to save your key in your keyring, and then you’re all set for future sessions. If your key is already stored, login() returns no message.

askgpt‘s default is to store the results of your query as an object so you can save them to a variable like this one:

barchart_instructions <- askgpt("How do I make a bar chart with custom colors with ggplot2?")

Submit a query and you’ll first see:

GPT is thinking ⠴

This way, you know your request has been sent and an answer should be forthcoming—better than wondering what’s happening after you hit Submit.

Along with the package’s general askgpt() function, there are a few coding-specific functions such as annotate_code(), explain_code(), and test_function(). These will involve cutting and pasting responses back into your source code.

For those familiar with the OpenAI API, the package’s chat_api() function allows you to set API parameters such as the model you want to use, maximum tokens you’re willing to spend per request, and your desired response temperature (which I’ll explain shortly).

The chat_api() function returns a list, with the text portion of the response in YourVariableName$choices[[1]]$message$content. Other useful information is stored in the list, as well, such as the number of tokens used.

The askgpt package was created by Johannes Gruber, a post-doc researcher at Vrije Universiteit Amsterdam. It can be installed from CRAN.

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gptstudio

According to the package website, gptstudio is a general-purpose helper “for R programmers to easily incorporate use of large language models (LLMs) into their project workflows.” gptstudio and its sibling, gpttools (discussed next), feature RStudio add-ins to work with ChatGPT, although it has some command-line functions that will work in any IDE or terminal.

You can access add-ins within RStudio either from the add-in drop-down menu above the code source pane or by searching for them via the RStudio command palette (Ctrl-shift-p).

One add-in, ChatGPT, launches a browser-based app for asking your R coding questions. It offers settings options for things like programming style and proficiency, although I had a bit of trouble getting those to work in the latest version on my Mac.

In the screenshot below, I’ve asked how to create a scatterplot in R.

Screenshot by Sharon Machlis for IDG.

Figure 4. Querying gptstudio’s ChatGPT add-in.

Although designed for R coding help, gptstudio can tap into more ChatGPT capabilities, so you can ask it anything that you would the original web-based ChatGPT. For instance, this app worked just as well as a ChatGPT tool to write Python code and answer general questions like, “What planet is farthest away from the sun?”

Another of the gptstudio package’s add-ins, ChatGPT in Source, lets you write code as usual in your source pane, add a comment requesting changes you’d like in the code, select the block of code including your comment, and apply the add-in. Then, voilà! Your requested changes are made.

When I applied the add-in to the code shown here

Screenshot by Sharon Machlis for IDG.

I got the correct code back, but it replaced my original code, which might be unsettling if you don’t want your original code erased.

gptstudio was written by Michel Nivard and James Wade and is available on CRAN.

gpttools

The aim of the gpttools package “is to extend gptstudio for R package developers to more easily incorporate use of large language models (LLMs) into their project workflows,” according to the package website. The gpttools package isn’t on CRAN as of this writing. Instead, you can install gpttools from the JamesHWade/gpttools GitHub repo or R Universe with the following:

# Enable repository from jameshwade options(repos = c( jameshwade = "https://jameshwade.r-universe.dev", CRAN = "https://cloud.r-project.org" )) # Download and install gpttools in R install.packages("gpttools")

The package’s add-ins include:

ChatGPT with Retrieval

Convert Script to Function

Add roxygen to Function (documents a function)

Suggest Unit Test

Document Data

Suggest Improvements

To run an add-in, highlight your code, then select the add-in either from the RStudio Addins dropdown menu or by searching for it in the command palette (Tools > Show Command Palette in the RStudio Addins menu or Ctrl-Shift-P on Windows, or Cmd-Shift-P on a Mac).

When I ran an add-in, I didn’t always see a message telling me that something was happening, so be patient.

The Suggest Improvements add-in generated for this code:

if (exportcsv) filename_root <- strsplit(filename, ".")[[1]][1] filename_with_winner <- paste0(filename_root, "_winners.csv") rio::export(data, filename_with_winner)

returned the following in my console, which made me have to look to see if there were changes:

Text to insert: if (exportcsv) filename_root <- strsplit(filename, ".")[[1]][1] filename_with_winner <- paste0(filename_root, "_winners.csv") rio::export(data, filename_with_winner)

I tried adding a typo to rio::export() and it wasn’t fixed, so don’t count on this add-in to fix errors in your code.

gptchatteR

Billed as “an experimental and unofficial wrapper for interacting with OpenAI GPT models in R,” one advantage of gptchatteR is its chatter.plot() function.

Install the package with

remotes::install_github("isinaltinkaya/gptchatteR", build_vignettes = TRUE, dependencies = TRUE)

This ensures that it also installs the required openai package. Then, you can load the package and authenticate with

library(gptchatteR) chatter.auth("YOUR KEY")

Once that’s done, launch a chat session with chatter.create().

The chatter_create() arguments include a model for the OpenAI model (default is text-davinci-003), max_tokens for the maximum number of tokens you want it to use (default is 100), and a “temperature” set with an argument like this one:

chatter.create(temperature = 0)

According to the OpenAI documentation, the temperature setting can be between 0 and 1 and represents “how often the model outputs a less likely token.”

The higher the temperature, the more random (and usually creative) the output. This, however, is not the same as “truthfulness.” For most factual use cases such as data extraction, and truthful Q&A, the temperature of 0 is best.

The package default is a neutral 0.5. Unless you want to be entertained as opposed to getting usable code, it’s worth setting your temperature to 0.

As of when I tested, the package was working but generated this warning:

The `engine_id` argument of `create_completion()` is deprecated as of openai 0.3.0. ℹ Please use the `model` argument instead. ℹ The deprecated feature was likely used in the gptchatteR package. Please report the issue to the authors.

You can create a “casual” chat with chatter.chat("Your input here"). If you think you’ll want to follow-up after your initial request, use chatter.feed(), which stores your first query for use in a second question, and so on.

After I ran the following code:

library(gptchatteR) mydf <- data.frame(State = c("CT", "NJ", "NY"), Pop = c(3605944, 9288994, 20201249)) chatter.auth(Sys.getenv("OPENAI_API_KEY")) chatter.create(temperature = 0) chatter.feed('I have the following data in R mydf <- data.frame(State = c("CT", "NJ", "NY"), Pop = c(3605944, 9288994, 20201249))') myplot <- chatter.plot("Make a graph with State on the x axis and Pop on the Y axis")

a graph appeared in my RStudio view pane. The code was stored in myplot$code.

The gptchatteR package was created by Isin Altinkaya, a PhD fellow at the University of Copenhagen.

And one more …

That’s the top eight ChatGPT packages for R. Here’s one more—and I will keep adding to this list, so check back in the future.

chatgptimages wasn’t designed to help you code. Instead, it uses a familiar R and Shiny interface to access another ChatGPT capability: creating images. There are a number of ethical intellectual property issues currently tangled up in AI image creation based on what was used to train models, which is important to keep in mind if you want to use this package for anything beyond entertainment.

That said, if you’d like to give it a try, note that it doesn’t install like a usual package. First, make sure you also have shiny, golem, shinydashboard, openai, config, and testthat installed on your system. Then, fork and download the entire GitHub repo at https://github.com/analyticsinmotion/chatgpt-images-r-shiny or download and unzip the .zip file from https://github.com/analyticsinmotion/chatgpt-images-r-shiny. Open the chatgptimages.Rproj file in RStudio, open the run_dev.R file in the project’s dev folder, and run that short file line by line. This app should open in your default browser:

Screenshot by Sharon Machlis for IDG.

Figure 5. The chatgptimages app running in a browser.

Follow the instructions on storing a ChatGPT API key, and you can start creating and saving images.

The results look something like what’s shown in Figure 6.

Screenshot by Sharon Machlis for IDG.

Figure 6. A saved image from chatgptimages.

Beyond ChatGPT

If you’d like to test out other large language models that are open source, one non-R-specific tool, Chat with Open Large Language Models, is interesting. It offers access to 20 different models as of this writing and an “arena” where you can test two at once and vote for the best.

Be aware of the terms of use: “non-commercial use only. It only provides limited safety measures and may generate offensive content. It must not be used for any illegal, harmful, violent, racist, or sexual purposes. The service collects user dialogue data for future research.”

As a final note, H2o.ai has a website where you can test models. There are also numerous models available for testing at Hugging Face.

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trans-cuchulainn · 4 months

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it is 01:24am and i just saw a humour article make a passing reference to a "fifth-century Benedictine codex" and said, out loud, to myself, "I don't think the Benedictines existed in the fifth century" (and then googled it to check and I was right. rule of st benedict is sixth century. how dare this humour article not check this detail)

#néide is a pedant

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ciphykiss · 1 year

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< incubus (ii) >

blade x f!reader; implied nsfw (only un-explicit part), mdni (implied) somnophilia

a/n: second part of incubus, but stave off the thirst for now XD

“Declined.”

You blink, once, twice, dazed—you count every checkered tile in your peripheral vision, wondering if you’d misheard. Bewildered, you straighten from your previously bowed stance, head tilted to the side. Jingyuan pays you no mind, bent over a fortune scroll stamped with Master Diviner Fuxuan’s insignia. Behind him, Yanqing can only stare, wide-eyed.

“Excuse me?”

Those infuriating, once captivating (but now more serpentine than anything else) golden eyes peer up at you, unperturbed. “Upon careful evaluation, it has been deemed that [Name] of Cloudford’s maximum security detention center is to remain deployed at her post indefinitely—until the case of the stellaron hunter is sealed and closed.”

“By whom?” You demand, fists clenching the fabric of your dress. “‘Indefinitely’? Exactly how long is that? This is ridiculous, and against the very rights printed on Section 35 of the Luofonian Codex—”

“By me.” Jingyuan rests his scroll atop his checkerboard. “And I’m sure you’re aware by now, but the Codex also states every Arbiter General is free to exempt and circumvent said articles when deemed necessary.”

“You can’t be serious,” you hiss, slamming your hands over the table; you see Yanqing bristle, hands cleaving for his sword, and Jingyuan has to raise a hand to temper his retinue that had, no doubt, risen to their feet and aimed rifles at your head. You pay them no mind; the vampire-bruises from last night sting as a reminder of your paranormal plight, caked under layers of foundation and color corrector. There’s an odd sting that shoots up your left leg, making it slightly difficult to stand upright. “You’re making me a prisoner of the flagship?”

Jingyuan sighs, resting his chin on a hand; ah, it’s that attitude again, all unbridled kindness and fleeting exasperation, like waves atop a morning sea. Over time, it spells more patronizing than it does calming, and urges you to reenact the more violent (and less whorish) parts of your lucid dreams. Your fingers twitch at the sight of his unmarred cheek.

“Why must you always assume the worst of me, my dear assistant?”

A droll stare. “You uprooted a fresh graduate from her position as amicassador, took advantage of her naivete to weasel in mutable terms in her contract, had her work an eight to ten schedule with unpaid overtime, and encouraged said amicassador graduate with no background in combat to cross-examine one of the most wanted criminals in the galaxy.”

“First of all, what you are not paid in overtime is delivered to you in the forms of generous bonuses and an exceptional annual raise,” Jingyuan argues, scandalized by your declarations. Even Yanqing looks to him accusingly now. “And as for your meeting with… our newest problem, well, that’s a result of your own belligerence, isn’t it?” He taps his table with his knuckle, the first signs of irritation stretching over his usually composed visage. “You were instructed to meet with me as soon as you arrived on scene. If you had, I would’ve taken the time to inform you of what you were getting yourself into, and the risks associated.”

You throw your hands up in the air. “Well, fuck me for not considering my employer would throw little old me into a foray of top ten most wanted killers! I don’t know what you want me to say, Jingyuan, especially considering how little regard you’ve shown me for my entire career at your stupid post.” Your lips curl. “And you wonder why your turnover rate looks like it crawled out of Tingyun’s first year exam scores. Unbelievable.”

“Mind your tongue; there are children present,” Jingyuan snaps, but neither you nor his blond heir really give a damn. In fact, Yanqing looks like he’s fighting a smile. At least someone found the situation funny. “Regardless—this is a decision that has been agreed upon by both Diviner Fu and I. Thus, your resignation request has been… well, rescinded.”

His lips twitch into an almost-smile, and despite sounding like he meant official business, you can tell the bastard is enjoying this. You gaze mutely at the hastily-scrawled resignation essays you’d filled out at 6 AM over coffee stains and ink splatters, untouched beside a gold, ornate vase on the Jingyuan’s table; the general raises a brow at your lack of ire, likely expecting glares or creative (but politely-framed, as to not earn a bullet to the back of your head) death threats by now.

Instead, you smile. Jingyuan immediately grows wary.

“Article 6, subsection 23,” you purr, “Any defamation or destruction of property belonging to the Arbiter-General of the Xianzhou Luofu will result in the permanent termination of said civil servant’s contract; punishments include, but may not be limited to, a six-month leave of absence from all organized labor.”

You grin. Jingyuan’s eyes widen.

“...whatever it is you’re planning, do no—”

“I think I’m long overdue for a vacation, don’t you, general?” You sing, and the general and his compatriots can only watch in slack-jawed horror as you raise the vase (an armistice gift from the Marshall Hua) and send it shattering onto the tile.

Deathly silence fills the halls of Jingyuan’s palace. Jingyuan doesn’t look up at you when he speaks, low and gritted, as damningly close to murderous as you’d ever heard him.

“Take her away. Solitary confinement. Two hours—then ensure she returns to her duties. This time, I want completion.”

Your smile drops.

“You—!”

And then you’re thrashing, the ends of your heels digging uselessly into the ground. The stupidly beefy arms of his personal guards yank you backwards to your makeshift cell (the infirmary), preventing you from falling backwards on your face.

“You can’t do this to me!” Your shrieks go unacknowledged; Jingyuan is too busy mourning over his dumb vase. “Jingyuan, you bastard! This is a violation of my rights! Terminate me! Throw me in jail! Anything but back there!”

Yanqing glances over the broken shards glinting over filtered sunlight. “General… is it really okay to let her go like that?”

The silver-haired man sighs, weary and a thousand years older than his already-dreaded age; he picks up a shard and examines it for any signs of salvageability (there are none). “Despite her… grievances, Diviner Fu has already determined her ‘likely favorable but not quite necessary’ for this case. I’m afraid she would’ve had to stay regardless. Though I do wish my dear assistant was even a smidgen more… agreeable.”

“—I knew I should’ve let Tingyun leak your 18+ sauna album! Just you watch, Jingyuan, after I’m through—”

“She has what.”

ꨄ︎

“—so please, for the love of all Aeons, I don’t care if it’s your stripper alias or Foxian Beauty & Haircare handle, just please, give me something to work with,” you groan, finding yourself at the mercy of the selectively mute space murderer with both your clothes and hair disheveled from fighting off (clawing at) Jingyuan’s men. Your throat aches from two hours of screeching obscenities, begging for mercy, and finally, prayer (unfortunately, you’d never been pious, and Lan had likely forsaken you by now). You’d thrashed, flipped the nursing cot upside down, shattered glass vials against the walls, and fallen to a half-dead heap on the floor by the time you were dragged in to resume bio-data collection.

If he registers your incessant whining, the space-criminal doesn’t show it; he says nothing for a long while until the void fills with the sound of incessant pen-tapping against your digital clipboard.

His mouth bends into a frown. “Stop that.”

“So he speaks,” you drawl, sarcastic. “Tell you what—why don’t you share your introductions with the class—me—and I’ll stop yammering. Easy as that.”

“Is it necessary?” He inquires cryptically. “Why don’t you just ask that general of yours—I’m sure Jingyuan would be able to sate your curiosity.”

Your rhythmic tapping ceases. “You know Jingyuan?”

That, he doesn’t answer; you observe him as he lapses back into silence, as dark and brooding as ever before, and feel the welts on your neck itch, an obtrusive reminder of your night terror (your dubbing isn’t quite accurate, but the label makes you feel better about yourself). Then, you resume clacking your pen in tribute to the morning show you’d catch glimpses of on the way to hell (work), and observe the tick working on the man’s jaw.

“...Blade,” he says at last, the word cutting like the edge of a serrated knife; you blink. Blade. The name suits him, somehow—all edge and red, like the backdrop of a battlefield. “...but here, Ren.”

You’re tearing through the bio-data form like a storm; two lines is enough. You’ll make it enough. Blade/Ren. Affiliation: likely Xianzhounian. Fabric points to a prime of at least five-hundred years prior; further trace collection is needed. Picture comparison of clothing necessary for evaluation. Suspected relation with Luofu General—unsure if this is an attempt to derail from questioning/true identity. Unlikely, but possible. Discouraged communication style. Psychiatric evaluation necessary; put-off by rhythmic tapping. Likely suffers from heightened senses; could be a result of battle-trauma or mixed genetics (both?). Likely a Xianzhou Native; probable Homo celestinae, blood testing required for confirmation.

“Blade,” you murmur, and the name rests oddly comfortably in your mouth; a strange moniker, but it sounds almost sweet when you say it, as if meant to be spoken. The man—Blade—shifts, not out of discomfort or regulation, but as the first non-forced physical acknowledgment you’d managed to wrench out from him.

His lips curve into a sneer when you continue scritching.

“All figured out, from just a name,” he mocks. You raise a brow.

“Does that offend you?” You tap your pen in thought, conjuring up the next bullet point. Easily offended by assumptions. Possible insecurity?

To your surprise, he grazes a smile—but not your regular, run-of-the-mill grin. It’s malefic, a touch depraved, like staring into a hollow skull. “No. Fantasize all you want. So as long I ruin you in every end.”

You nearly drop your clipboard.

“I could ruin you,” his voice echoes. “I could make it burn. You would dream of me in the waking world, cry for me in the dreaming. A slave to passion, day and night; hardly sleeping, hardly eating, merely breathing…”

No. Impossible. There’s no way—it can’t be—

Gingerly, you finger the skin over your pulse point. The bruised kiss hisses upon contact; you feel the hummingbird-flutter of your own heartbeat.

“Do you dream?”

You don’t know why you blurt that particular phrase; you suppose it’s more acceptable than “did we almost-fuck in my (our?) dream last night”. Still, you observe the intergalactic space criminal with heightened scrutiny, wishing (now more than ever) he didn’t have that cursed blindfold on.

You never realized just how much is missed from the eyes alone.

If there’s any reaction, he doesn’t show it; his next words are mere remnants of what they should be, like bones atop carcass.

“I do not recall the last I dreamt.”

You swallow, the first needles of paranoia sinking into your spine. That should be answer enough. But you wonder why it feels like a dance between confirmation and indifference; anything but denial. Suddenly, you think you hate him; his archaic, cryptic remarks, his riddles and his ambiguity.

“Not worthy enough for recording?” he cuts through the silence, the cruelty of a half-smile gallivanting across your vision. You realize you’d been spaced out, pen hanging between downturned fingers, and curse.

“...think nothing of it,” you mutter. You deem the passage worthy enough for Jingyuan’s approval (it isn’t) and chuck the pen backwards. It dematerializes into the confines of your clipboard. “I should offer you my services once more, but I’m sure neither of us truly wishes for that. A word of advice—behave yourself, and the general might allow you to roam the cell unshackled for certain hours. I’m sure there’s nothing you want more than a hairbrush by now,” you snort. Blade doesn’t reply.

“Danyin,” you murmur, catching the man by his cuff when you exit the hall; he looks frazzled, as if half-expecting you to return with a missing limb (likely a touch disappointed when you don’t; you don’t consider yourself particularly lenient when forced into this scummy duty). “Do me a favor. I want you to place a recording device outside his cell; one of those high-tech thermal ones that can navigate through the dark.”

Danyin pales. “D-digital recordings—any recording—outside what is sanctioned by the general himself is strictly prohibited! I don’t even have cle—”

You unclasp your wristwatch and replace it with Danyin’s own; the man can only babble out a half-hearted protest when you do, mourning his defeat already.

“I’d do it myself, but I’m not exactly out of general douche-canoe’s radar,” you sigh, tightening the clasp. Danyin mumbles something about hiring an underwriter for his will, to which you offer a sunny grin and a pat on the back. “I’m counting on you, friend!”

He mutters something about you being as shitty as Jingyuan. You pretend not to hear it.

ꨄ︎

“A dream demon?” Tingyun snorts, pushing the newly-gifted sunglasses she’d received from a Yaoqing merchant that served as General Feixiao’s retinue down her nose. “You can’t be serious. Please tell me you didn’t make me cancel my hair appointment to play therapist for your psychotic break. How many times did I tell you to just quit and work with me in—”

You yank down the collar of your dress, having wiped off the excess makeup in the restaurant bathroom prior. “Look.”

“For the love of—oh. Oh.” She tilts her frames downwards, viridescent hues assessing the damage. “You got yourself a suckerfish? Careful with those—one starskiff romp shimmied into your lunchbreak and they think they own you.”

“Actually, my very preventable trauma from waking up next to Dai—Daiqiu? Daiqing? Has rendered me unable to pursue any bedmates since,” you sniff. Tingyun rolls her eyes.

“You sure you didn’t wobble into Inferno after your shift and had a couple shots too many? We all know it’s all south after your third martini. And your impairment the following morning.”

“You and I both know I don’t get off until midnight, and you were there when we both got banned from Inferno!”

“Maybe if you hadn’t laughed at the owner’s son and called him fossilized when he asked for a three—”

“He was at least as old as my grandfather, Ting! Without the Jingyuan-tier looks to make up for it!”

“Jingyuan isn’t that old—wait, do you still have a crush on him? What happened to—”

“That’s beside the point!” You swat her hand off the straw of her mid-afternoon cocktail, knocking her jade bracelet against the glass. The heat of it fogs the hexagons scattering rainbows onto the counter, and you are acutely reminded of the matching anklet that dangles on your left, forever warm and secured to your person. “I know you barely passed history—”

“Hey.”

“—but Foxian history can be traced as far back as the Long’s Scions, can it not? Surely there has to be something you picked up over the years. Maybe some old stories, some superstition…”

“[Name],” Tingyun sighs, “are you seriously asking me if I remember any bedtime stories?”

“So there is? Something, I mean?”

“You’re honestly better off taking that to a Vidyadhara historian or a senior Xianzhou Native,” Tingyun admits, to which your face cripples, because Aeons knows your social life had been reduced to zilch after your recruitment (and there was no way you’d press the matter to Jingyuan; you had no doubt he and Diviner Fu could grapple onto the dirtiest details of your midnight escapades). She swishes her drink with her straw in thought. “Foxian lifespans are but fleeting compared to the stories of our other long-lived peers; what are four hundred years, after all, to rebirth and a thousand?”

It’s said with a twinge of envy; you know Tingyun is not like Xianzhou commonfolk who dread their existence and eventual descent to madness. Life is—will never be—enough for her, never enough wine to drink, men to seduce; never enough jewelry and lost merchandise for Whistling Flames.

“We do, however, have our love stories—love and lust and betrayal and wroth, they’re quite similar, don’t you think? And the tales of the Foxians pale in comparison to none.”

“This isn’t about love,” is your immediate response. Tingyun arches a fine brow.

“Isn’t it, though?” With that, she reaches out to redo the buttons on your collar. Heat creeps up your ears. “Passion… this is something Foxians are accustomed with. We love our wine and jade, men and women all the same; I’m sure you know this,” she laughs, and you feel the fox-carving against your anklet simmer. “You know of the Xianzhou belief of soul partners, do you not?”

“Of course.” You reach down, absently, to tickle the jade that had been gifted (shackled) to you on your graduation day. “There’s the, erm, chosen ones, right? Bosom friends, sworn brothers—”

“That’s right; and they’re referred to as chosen for a reason.” She points the end of her olive stick at you. “It is the highest form of love, for some; philia, at the end of the day, is a choice,” she ignores your grumble of “where was mine”, “though, arguably, many believe these soul partners were predestined to be in your life. We gift our jade to these soul partners, and the Vidyadhara share a similar custom, but with bracers; warmth indicates the wearer’s partner is alive and well, and there is a belief that these gifts will eventually bring one back to the other, in life, death, dreams, or otherwise.” She narrows her eyes. “Though there’s no reason, seeing as I’d rather be caught dead than star in your rogue fantasies.”

“Wasn’t ever an option,” you mutter.

“There is another, more outdated; I’ve only ever heard stories about it, and some say the encounter died since the plague of abundance ravaged the long-lived. It’s less of a choice, more a force of nature; or so I’ve been told. A bunch of rubbish, honestly, but there does exist stories of another kind of soul partner—one that embodies a more… debauched role. I suppose soulmate is a loose term; these stories have long since been discarded, scoffed at as crude; these are the stories of scorned lovers, of passion, bedroom woes and death and betrayal; truly, nothing worth writing home about. I’m sure we’ve progressed enough as a society to leave behind such primal relics.”

Your head spins at the sudden onslaught of information; you inhale through your nose, pinching the bridge between two fingers. Tingyun finishes the contents of her drink, suckling the heart-shaped straw dry. “And what… what does that have to do with…”

“With your suckerfish?” Tingyun grins, dodging a kick under the table. “I’m getting to that. There’s a story—just one that I can remember, at least. My Lady wasn’t fond of me rummaging through those particular texts.”

“No wonder you turned out to be so godless—ow!”

“...like I was saying. There exists a…largely banned text. A bit blasphemous, but more so an overreaction, on the elders’ part; I’ll spare you the details, but the story can be loosely translated as The Foxian’s Obsession. Not the most creative of titles, I’ll admit, though it is fitting; it weaves the tale of a long-lived Foxian’s adoration of a short-lived fisherman. The woes of past society would not permit her to seek out a man of such fragility, and eventually, the fisherman married; the Foxian, hurt, enraged, and heartbroken, would curse the fisherman to an eternal sleep.”

“Sounds like one of those ex nightmare stories on Foxian Lipstick Alley,” you chortle.

“Imagine being so obsessed,” Tingyun snorts. “Anyways, the wife and family of the comatose fisherman start seeing ‘love marks’ on him, find him dead one day, bleeding from the mouth; the wife is put on trial until they discover news of said Foxian having passed in her sleep, coincidentally, with the same comorbidity.”

“What the fuck.”

“Creepy, isn’t it? Now, if that were the case with you…”

“Tingyun!” You screech. The Foxian snickers at your distress. “This isn’t funny! What if this dude’s some creepy old Foxy spirit disguising himself as some space criminal hunk to get into my pants and commit murder-sui!”

“Your drawers are in need of a seasonal refresh…”

“Tingyun, you bi—”

“Aeons, relax,” the amicassador slaps your arm in poor reassurance. “These are mere whispers of the past. The first starskiff hadn’t even taken flight when it was published. Besides, does your dream demon present with ears and a tail? You know that’s our one indisputable giveaway…”

“...no, he doesn’t,” you begrudge, a sigh of relief escaping you. Tingyun rolls her eyes.

“Then there you have it. I’m sure this is just a consequence of your ridiculous work hours—how many times must I tell you stress is bad for beauty? You’re even losing pockets of memory…”

“...you’re right. That must be it.”

“So? what happened to your resignation letter?”

“Don’t get me started—”

You vent the happenings of this morning to Tingyun, who, for the first time, appears rather irked; it’s not a common look for the Foxian, as leisurely and unbothered as a nepo-child of Lady Yukong can be, though you suppose even she has her limits on witnessing you falling victim to workplace abuse.

Throughout the conversation, you concoct the margins of your plan; the cameras should be set up by now, if Danyin is at least half-competent. You touch your now-fading love bites and make a mental note to pick up another bottle of fantasia.

If working with Jingyuan blessed you with any positives, it’s your seasoned thirst for vengeance—and the earlier you act, the swifter (and sweeter) your prize.

Perhaps it was a fluke. Perhaps it was a once-in-a-lifetime, paranormal encounter—but on the off chance it isn’t, well, now you’d be prepared.

Because if he can ruin you, who’s to say you can’t return the favor?

#blade x reader #honkai star rail x you #hsr x reader #hsr x you #blade hsr #honkai star rail smut #blade smut

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fourthwingfan · 3 months

Text

Madness - Chapter 1

Warning: swear language, mentioned childhood trauma, and you know it's a war college so you should be prepared.

Note: I hope you will enjoy this chapter, I'm currently working on ch 2, there will be more excitment as the story goes on, pls bear with me I have so many ideas for this fanfic ;)

A dragon without its rider is a tragedy. A rider without their dragon is dead.

—Article One, Section One

The Dragon Rider’s Codex

„You’re late.” says General Melgren, when I enter his office. He is staring out of the window, and didn’t turn around when he heard me closing the door.

„I apologise, but…” I try to defend myself.

„I dont’t care about your excuses. This is the Conscription Day and you will not fail.” he starts his lecture for the hundreth times.

As if he let me fail. I had been trained for this day since I was born. I am strong, he made sure of that. He doesen’t know the word love since my mother’s death. I never once received a kind word from him. For me he’s a monster, not a father. I hate him.

„Yes, General.” I answer, while I’m tightening my grip on my canvas rucksack.

„Go, and don’t forget what’s your duty. And do not forget that you are a Melgren! Do not bring more shame on this name, that you already had. The Riders Quadrant the only place the suitable to hide your…disfunction.”

What a kind man, I thought. That’s not my fault that I was born this way.

„Yes, General.”

„You’re dismissed.”

With his last word I walk out of the office and I go to wait for Violet in front of her mother’s office. Voices rose from beyond the closed door. They arguing, again.

It’s not a surprise beacuse everybody knows that Violet Sorrengail isn’t meant to be a Rider. She’s small and fragile. The complete opposite of a Rider. Only General Sorrengail is blind to this fact.

Basgiath War College is famous for its cuelty throughout Navarre. Nonetheless thousands of twenty-year-olds waiting to enter their chosen quadrant. I am one of them.

Every Navarrian officer, whether they choose to be schooled as healers, scribes, infantry, or riders is molded within these cruel walls over three years, honed into weapons to secure our mountainous borders from the violent invasion attempts of the kingdom of Poromiel and their gryphon riders. The weak don’t survive here, especially not in the Riders Quadrant. The dragons make sure of that.

I nearly dropped my rucksack when General Sorrengail’s door opened with such a force that’s matching Mira Sorrengail’s temper. She’s Violets older sister by six years.

Mira Sorrengail is the epitome of the perfect Rider. She has short hair to match the standard Rider’s length. She was dressed in black leather and carried her battle worn rucksack in her hand. She was elegant and lethal.

„It seems that General Sorrengail didn’t change her mind about Violet and the Riders Quadrant.” I say when she realises that I was waiting for them.

„No. She’s batshit crazy.” Mira says without a care that the guards might tell her what she said.

„Don’t worry, I’ll be there for her. I can’t guarantee that she will graduate without a scratch, but I will do my best to protect her.” I try to calm Mira.

In this moment the door opened again a whole lot gentler then before. It was Violet.

We practically grew up together, because my father always left me here in Basgiath when he had left to fulfill his duty as one of the most powerful Generals.

Violet was a kind, gentle but sharp tounged woman. She dosen’t fit any of the criteria that makes someone suitable for a life of a Rider.

„Hi Aelin.”

„Hi, Vi. How are you?” I ask her refering to the talk with her mother.

„We don’t have time for a chit chat. Let’s go. We only have an hour before all candidates have to report, and I saw thousands waiting outside the gates when I flew over.” Mira says as she starts walking, leading us down the stone staircase and through the hallways to Violet’s room.

„She’s fucking efficient, I’ll give you that.” Mira mutters

All of Violet’s personal items have been packed into crates that now sit stacked in the corner.

„I was hoping I’d be able to talk her out of it. You were never meant for the Riders Quadrant.” Mira says while emptying Violet’s rucksack to see what she packed that makes it look so heavy.

„So you’ve mentioned. Repeatedly.” Says Violet while she stares at her sister with daggers in her eyes. „And what are you doing? It took me the whole night to choose what I want to bring with me.”

„Sorry Vi, but your pack is almost as heavy as you. It would be impossible to carry it across the Parapet, even for me, and I’m stronger than you.” I wince as she try to catch her books that Mira deemed unnecessary.

„Hey, I want those books. You can’t throw all of them away.” Shouths Violet.

„What’s this for then?” She asks holding up one of the books.

„Obviously killing people. If my memory correct that’s a book about poisonous herbs” I say to at least save one of the books for Violet.

„I’m surprised that you even tried to read a book” Replies Mira not even paying attention to what she says.

„I’m not illiterate Mira. I just have problems with reading and you know that too.” I cringe because I really hate this topic.

„Shit, Aelin I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it that way.” Sighs Mira, then looks at Violet to divert the subject.

„Take off those horrible boots, they are a death trap. You’ll slip right off the Parapet with those smooth soles. I have a set of rubber-bottomed rider boots made for you just in case.” States Mira while giving the boots and black leather clothes to her sister. „Now, get changed while I sort out the rest of this mess.”

„And you…” She begins and check my clothes if I too need to change them.

„You’re set.” Mira states in a surprised tone.

„Yeah, you know my father. He never let me embarass him by falling off the Parapet beacuse of something this trivial.” I said as I roll my eyes.

„Than at least he did one thing right in his life.” Mira says harshly while she finish packing into Violet’s rucksack.

„Rider black is supposed to be earned. Someone’s going to say we didn’t earn them.” I hear Violet refer to her clothes and mine, when she emerges from the bathroom in her new attire.

„You’re a Sorrengail. Fuck what they say.” Responds Mira while she laces Violet into a vest-style corset over her shirt.

„Here, this is yours. Put it on too.” Mira say and I get a corset that matches with Violet’s one.

„What is this?” I ask while trying putting it on.

„Something I designed,” she explains „I had it specially made for you two with Teine’s scales sewn in, so be careful with it.”

„Dragon scales?” I jerk my head back to look at her. „How the hell? Teine is huge.”

„I happen to know a rider whose power can make big things very small.” A devious smile plays across her lips.” „And smaller things… much, much bigger.”

„How much bigger?” I ask laughing.

„It’s a secret.” She says while motioning Violet to sit in front of her.

„You’re the worst.” says Violet.

„Oh come on Vi, don’t tell me that you aren’t curious.” I tease her.

„Head forward. You should have cut your hair.” Mira says while she pulls the strainds tight against Violets head and resume weaving. „It’s a liability in sparring and in battle, not to mention being a giant target. No one else has a hair that fades out silver like this, and they’ll already be aiming for you.”

„You know very well the natural pigment seems to gradually abandon it no matter the length.” Says Violet with defiance. „Besides, other than everyone else’s concern for the shade, my hair is the only thing about me that’s perfectly healthy. Cutting it would feel like I’m punishing my body for finally doing something well, and it’s not like I feel the need to hide who I am. Besides it’s not like Aelin will blend into the environment either.”

„So what’s your excuse for not cutting your hair?” Mira asks with raised eyebrows. „Because I know you have one too. You two always come up with something to get out of trouble.”

„I won’t cut it. I can braid it tightly to not distract me in a fight, besides it’s not like I resemble the General. My hair and my eyes come from my mother.” I say while looking into a mirror on one of the walls.

It’s true. I’m nothing like my father. I look just like my mother, as they say. She was a beauty and the only person whom my father loved in his life. Unfortunately that caused her death.

When she was in her last months in the pregnency, she was attacked by a group who wanted to eliminate the General using my mother. But she was a warrior and tried to save us by escaping. That was when someone injured her and left her to die. When they found my mother she was dying. Pregnant with me. The healers tried to save her but they are not gods. They can’t bring back the dead. They were only able to save me. These are the only facts that I know because nobody want to speak about my mother in fear to anger the General.

Between the few minutes that my mother had died and I was saved, happened a lot of things to my body. My hair is supposed to be a natural golden color but has strands of silvery white, just like my eyes. They should be golden but there are tiny circular parts around my iris where the silvery white color appears. The healers said that it was due to lack of oxygen. My father can’t even look at me because I remind him of my mother and my unique coloring is remind him of her brutal death and that he couldn’t save her. I think this is the main reason that he hates me. The other is another consequence of the circumstance of my birth.

When I was old enough that the General brought tutors to start my education, it turned out that my brain suffered some damage too. I was dyslexic. It doesen’t mean that I can’t read, it’s just really-really difficult. As if the words are running away from my eyes, everytime I try to read something. It doesen’t matter if it’s a short or long text. My memory is great enough that I can remember a lot of things after hearing it but not everything. That makes studying a whole lot of harder. The General ordered that we keep it a secret, so outside my father, and the tutors, the Sorrengail children are the only ones who know it. This is the other reason why the General said in his office that I bring shame on the Melgren name.

„Well then there’s nothing that I can say to change either of your mind.” Sighs Mira. „Then listen to me well.” As she starts to summarize years of knowledge into fifteen harried minutes, barely pausing to breathe.

„Be observant. Quiet is fine, but make sure you notice everything and everyone around you to your advantage. You’ve read the Codex?” Mira asks

„A few times.” Violet answers.

„I tried but I don’t remember everything.” I shrug.

„Then Violet will help you memorize it once you begin your classes. Then you should know that the other riders can kill you any time, and the cutthroat cadets will try. Fewer cadets means better odds at Threshing. There are never enough dragons willing to bond, and anyone reckless enough to get themselves killed isn’t worthy of a dragon anyway.”

„Except when sleeping. It’s an executable offense to attack any cadet while sleeping. Article Three-„ cites Violet.

„Yes, but that doesn’t mean you’re safe at night. Sleep in this if you can.” She taps the stomach of my corset. „Both of you.”

„There’s hidden sheaths sewn diagonally along the rib cage in your corset. For your daggers.” Continue Mira.

„I only have four.” Says Violet, then she grabs them from the floor and slide it into the sheaths.

„I have four and a sword.” I say to Mira while pointing at them at my ribs and thighs, the sword is strapped to my back.

„That’s fine. You’ll earn more.” She nods „Wear the armor at all times. Keep your daggers on you at all times.” She points to the sheaths down her thighs.

„Someone’s going to say we didn’t earn them.” Violet says. Clearly she worries too much.

„Come on Vi, remember what Mira said. You’re a Sorrengail. Fuck what they say. We will survive no matter what!” I say trying to calm her down a bit.

„Exactly. You’re both famous Generals daughters. A Sorrengail and a Melgren. You can do what you have to do to survive and never forget that.” Agrees Mira with me. „There’s no such thing as cheating once you climb the turret. There’s only survival and death.” The bell chimes – only thirty minutes left. She swallows. „It’s almost time. Ready?”

„No.” Replies quickly Violet.

„My hands are trembling.” I show them that indeed my hands are visibly shaking.

„Neither was I ready.” A wry smile lifts a corner of Mira’s mouth. „And I’d spent my life trainig for it, just like Aelin.”

„We’re not going to die today.” States Violet and slings the rucksack over her shoulder.

The halls of the central, administrative part of the fortress are eerily quiet as we wind our way down through various staircases, but the noise from outside grows louder the lower we descend. Through the windows, I see thousands of candidates hugging their loved ones and saying their goodbyes ont he grassy fields just beneath the main gate.

From what I’ve witnessed every year, most families hold on to their candidates right up to the very last bell. The four roads leading to the fortress are clogged with horses and wagons, especially where they converge in front of the college, but it’s the empty ones at the edge of the fields that make me nervous.

They’re for the bodies.

Right before we round the last corner that will lead tot he courtyard, Mira stops.

„What is – Oof.” I hear Violet’s muffled voice when Mira yanks her against her chest, hugging her tight in the relative privacy of the corridor.

„Aelin, you too. Come here.” Says Mira as Violet makes room for me, and then extends her arms.

„I love both of you. Remember everything I’ve told you. Don’t become another name on the death roll. Both of your lives are equally important. Do everything you can to stay alive.” Her voice shakes, and I wrap my arms around her, squeezing tight.

„We’ll be alright. I’ll be alright.” I promise.

She nods, her chin bumping against the top of my head. „I know. Let’s go.”

That’s all she says before pulling away and walking into the crowded courtyard just inside the main gate to the fortress. Instructors, commanders, and even General Sorrengail and General Melgren are gathered informally, waiting for the madness outside the walls to become the order within. Out of all the doors in the war college, the main gate is the only one no cadet will enter today, since each quadrant has its own entrance and facilities. Hell, the riders have their own citadel.

„Find Dain Aetos,” Mira tells us as we cross through the courtyard, heading for the open gate.

„Dain?” Asks Violet with a smile. I think she has a huge crush on him, but didn’t admit it yet. I don’t think he’s such a good person as Vi thinks, but I was never that close with him. We always avoided each others company. There’s something in his eyes that’s makes me uneasy.

„I’ve only been out of the quadrant for three years, but from what I hear, he’s doing well, and he’ll keep both of you safe.”

„As if I want to go near him” I say silently

„It doesn’t matter Aelin, just stay alive.” Scolds me Mira

„And you. Don’t smile like that,” she turns to Violet. „He’ll be second-year.” She shakes a finger at her. „Don’t mess around with second-years. If you want to get laid, and you should” – she lifts her brows – „often, considering you never know what the day brings, then screw around in your own year. Nothing is worse than cadets gossiping that you’ve slept your way to safety. This applies to you too Aelin.”

„So I’m free to take any of the first-years I want to bed,” I say with a smirk. „Just not the second- or the third-years.”

„Exactly.” She winks.

„Then we should definitely find the handsome ones. This is our first task Vi.” I joke with her, in hope that she at least smiles because she seems a little greener the longer she looks at the wagons at the road.

„Let’s cross the Parapet first Aelin.” Says Violet

„Sure Vi.” I wink at her.

We cross through the gates, leaving the fortress, and join the organized chaos beyond.

Each of Navarre’s six provinces has sent this year’s share of candidates for military service. Some volunteer. Some are sentenced as punishment. Most are conscripted. The only thing we have in common here at Basgiath is that we passed the entrance exam – both written and an agility test – which means at least we won’t end up as fodder for the infantry on the front line.

The agility test was easy with someone like me who had the „luck” to train under General Melgren’s watchful eyes. But the written exam was a nightmare. I barely passed despite the fact that I practiced for non-stop before it. It’s just the fact that I’m not like the other normal candidates. Give me a weapon and I’ll know how to use it. Bring me an opponent and I will figure out how to win. But I just can’t will my barin to function normally. Which my father likes to remind me all the time.

The atmosphere is tense with anticipation as Mira leads me along the worn cobblestone path toward the southern turret.

The majority of the crowd moves to line up at the base of the northern turret – the entrance to the Infantry Quadrant. Some of the mass heads toward the gate behind us – the Healer Quadrant that consumes the southern end of the college. Then I spot a few taking the central tunnel into the archives below the fortress to join the Scribe Quadrant. Violet wanted to be a scribe for her whole life. But General Sorrengail has other plans.

The entrance to the Riders Quadrant is nothing more than a fortified door at the base of the tower, that we rider candidates will climb.

We join the riders’ line, waiting to sign in, and then I glance up.

High above us, crossing the river-bottomed valley that divides the main college from the even higher, looming citadel of the Riders Quadrant on the southern ridgeline, is the Parapet, the stone bridge that’s about to separate rider candidates from cadets over the next few hours.

„And to think, I’ve been preparing for the scribe’s written exam all these years.” Says Violet in thick sarcastic voice. „I should have been playing on a balance beam.”

„Believe me Vi, I’ve been playing on a balance beam for years but I don’t think that’s the same as the Parapet.” I say laughing. „However I’m a little excited about this.”

Mira ignores us as the line moves forward and candidates disappear through the door. „Don’t let the wind sway your steps.”

Two candidates ahead of us, a woman sobs as her partner rips her away from a young man, the couple breaking from the line, retreating in tears down the hillside toward the crowd of loved ones lining the roads. There are no other parents ahead of us, only a few dozen candidates moving toward the roll-keepers.

„Keep your eyes on the stones ahead of you and don’t look down,” Mira says, the lines of her face tightening. „Arms out for balance. If the pack slips, drop it. Better it falls than you.”

„Maybe I should let them go first,” whispers Violet.

„No,” Mira answers. „The longer you wait on those steps” – she motions toward the tower – „the greater your fear has a chance to grow. Cross the Parapet before the terror owns you.”

„Mira’s right and you know it Vi. We will be alright. I’ll be there with you until we cross this damn thing.” I try to cheer her up. „If you want I’ll be the first, than you can watch and copy me.”

„Thanks, Aelin.” Smiles Violet.

The line moves, and the bell chimes again. It’s eight o’clock.

Sure enough, the crowd of thousands behind us has separated fully into their chosen quadrants, all lined up to sign the roll and begin their service.

„Focus,” Mira snaps, and I whip my head forward. „This might sound harsh, but don’t seek friendships in there. Forge alliances. Both of you.”

There are only two ahead of us now – a woman with a full pack, and a man with the woman crying over him. He’s carrying an even bigger rucksack.

I look around the pair toward the roll-keeping desk, and my eyes widen.

„Is he…?” Whispers Violet.

Mira glances and mutters a curse. „A separatist’s kid? Yep. See that shimmering mark that starts on the top of his wrist? It’s a relic from the rebellion.”

„A dragon did that?” She asks.

I nod. „Yes. General Melgren told me once, that it was his dragon that did it to all of them when he executed their parents. Nothing like punishing the kids to deter more parents from committing treason. Most of the marked kids who carry rebellion relics are from Tyrrendor.”

It always seemed cruel to me. Punishing the children for their parents actions.

In this moment the blood drains from Mira’s face, and she grips the straps of my pack, turning me to face her. „I just remembered.” Her voice drops, and we lean in to hear her better. „Stay the hell away from Xaden Riorson.”

That name…

„That Xaden Riorson,” she confirms, fear lacing her gaze. „He’s a third-year, and he will kill you the second he finds out who you are.” She lifts her gaze to Violet. „Both of you.”

„His father was the Great Betrayer. He led the rebellion,” Violet says quietly. „What is Xaden doing here?”

„All the children of the leaders were conscripted as punishment for their parents’ cirmes,” I murmur. Yep, my father was really a monster.

Mira whispers as we shuffle sideways, moving with the line. „Mom told me they never expected Riorson to make it past the parapet. Then they figured a cadet would kill him, but once his dragon chose him…” She shakes her head. „Well, there’s nothing much that can be done then. He’s risen to the rank of wingleader.”

„That’s bullshit.” Violet seethes.

„He’s sworn allegiance to Navarre, but I don’t think that will stop him where you’re concerned. Once you get across the Parapet – because you will make it across – find Dain. He’ll put you in his squad, and we’ll just hope it’s far from Riorson.” She grips my straps tighter. „Stay. Away. From. Him.” She knew me well enough to feel the need to repeat it. I don’t like this whole rebellion relic thing. This punishment is too curel.

„Roger that.” I say to calm her down.

„Noted.” Nods Violet.

„Next,” a voice calls from behind the wooden tablet hat bears the rolls of the Riders Quadrant. The marked rider I don’t know is seated next to a scribe, whose eyebrows rise over his weathered face. „Violet Sorrengail?”

She nods, and picking up the quill she sing her name on the roll.

„But I thought you were meant for the Scribe Quadrant,” he says softly.

„General Sorrengail chose otherwise,” I answer him.

„Melgren?” He asks.

„Yes, my name is Aelin Melgren.” I say then I sign my name on the next empty line on the roll.

„You look so much like your late mother,” He says while sadness fills his eyes.

„You knew my mom?” I ask amazed.

He turned his head to Violet „Pity. You had so much promise.” So he knew my mother, but won’t say a thing. As usual. But I just want to know what she was like.

„By the gods,” the rider next tot he scribe says. „You’re Mira Sorrengail?” His jaw drops, and I can smell his hero worship from here.

„I am.” She nods. „This is my sister, Violet. And this is Aelin Melgren. They’ll be first-years.”

„If your sister survives the Parapet.” Someone behind me snickers. „Wind just might blow her right off.”

„Shut up, idiot. You have a higher chance falling of the Parapet than her. It seems you don’t have a brain to think with, if you don’t know to not interfere in the adults conversations.” I answer angrily.

„You fought at Strythmore,” the rider behind the desk says with awe. „They gave you the Order of the Talon for taking out the battery behind enemy lines.”

„As I was saying.” Mira puts a hand at our shoulders. „This is my sister, Violet and our friend Aelin Melgren.”

„You know the way.” The scribe nods and points to the open door into the turret. It looks ominously dark in there, and I fight the urge to run away.

„I know the way,” she assures him, leading us past the table so the snickering asshole behind me can sign the roll.

We pause at the doorway and turn toward each other.

„Don’t die, Violet. I’d hate to be an only child. And you too Aelin, I consider you my sister so stay alive.” She grins and walks away, sauntering past the line of gawking candidates as word spreads of exactly who she is and what she’s done.

„Though to live up to that,” the woman ahead of us says from just inside the tower.

„It is,” Violet agrees.

„But at least she’s a good sister.” I say laughing.

My eyes adjust quickly to the dim light coming in through the equidistant windows along the curved staircase.

„Sorrengail, and Melgren as in…?” the woman asks, looking over her shoulder as we begin to climb the hundreds of stairs.

„Yep.” There’s no railing, so I gesture Violet to keep her hand on the stone wall as we rise higher and higher.

„The generals?” the blond guy ahead of us asks.

„The same ones,” I answer, offering him a quick smile.

„Wow. Nice leathers, too.” He smiles back.

„Thanks. They’re courtesy of our family.”

„I wonder how many candidates have fallen off the edge of the steps and died before they even reach the Paraphet,” the woman says, glancing down the center of the staircase as we climb higher.

„Two last year.” Violet replies immediately. „Well, three if you count the girl one of the guys landed on.”

The woman’s brown eyes flare, but she turns back around keeps climbing. „How many steps are there?” she asks.

„Two hundred and fifty,” Violet answers.

„Oh god Vi, I love your brain.” I said laughing, then we climb in silence for another five minutes.

„Not too bad,” she says with a bright smile as we near the top and the line comes to a halt. „I’m Rhiannon Matthias, by the way.”

„Dylan,” the blond guy responds with an enthusiastic wave.

„Violet.” Vi give them a tense smile.

„Aelin.” I say and wink at Vi, ignoring Mira’s earlier suggestion that we avoid friendships and only forge alliances.

„I feel like I’ve been waiting my entire life for this day.” Dylan shifts his pack on his back. „Can you believe we actually get to do this? It’s a dream come true.”

„I can’t fucking wait.” Rhiannon’s smile widens. „I mean, who wouldn’t want to ride a dragon?”

„Do your parents approve?” Dylan asks. „Because my mom’s been begging me to change my mind for months. I keep telling her that I’ll have better chances for advancement as rider, but she wanted me to enter the Healer Quadrant.”

„Mine always knew I wanted this, so they’ve been pretty supportive. Besides, they have my twin to dote on. Raegan’s already living her dream, married and expecting a baby.” Rhiannon glances back at us.

„What about you? Let me guess. With names like Melgren and Sorrengail, I bet you were the first to volunteer this year.”

„Yes, I wanted to come here since I can remember.” I say with a smile. „I’m really excited about this. I mean do you see the dragons? They magnificent.”

„I hear ya girl.” Says Rihannon as we high five. „What about you Violet?”

„I was more like volun-told.”

„Gotcha.”

„And riders do get way better perks than other officers,” Violet says to Dylan as the line moves upward again. The snickering candidate behind me catches up, sweating and red. Look who isn’t snickering now. „Better pay, more leniency with the uniform policy,” she continues. No one gives a shit what riders wear as long as it’s black. The only rules that apply to riders are the ones in the Codex.

„And the right to call yourself a supreme badass,” Rhiannon adds.

„That too,” I agree. „Pretty sure they issue you an ego with your flight leathers.”

„Plus I’ve heard that riders are allowed to marry sooner than the other quadrants,” Dylan adds.

„True. Right after graduation. If we survie.” Says Violet. „I think it has something to do with wanting to continue bloodlines.”

„Or because we tend to die sooner than the other quadrants,” Rhiannon muses.

„I’m not dying,” Dylan says with way more confidence than I feel – however I practiced for this for my whole life – as he tugs a necklace from under his tunic to reveal a ring dangling from the chain. „She said it would be bad luck to propose before I left, so we’re waiting until graduation.” He kisses the ring and tucks the chain back under his collar. „The next three years are going to be long ones, but they’ll be worth it.”

„You might make it across the Parapet,” the guy behind us sneers. „This one here is a breeze away from the bottom of the ravine.”

I roll my eyes. He doesn’t learn.

„Shut up and focus on yourself,” Rhiannon snaps, her feet clicking against the stone as we climb.

The top comes into sight, the doorway full of muddled light. Those clouds are going to wreak havoc on us, and we have to be on the other side of the Parapet before they do.

Another step, another tap of Rhiannon’s feet.

„Let me see your boots,” Says Violet quietly, probably hoping that the jerk behind me can’t hear her.

Her brows puckers, and confusion fills her brown eyes, but she shows her the shoes. They’re smooth, just like the ones Violet was wearing earlier. My stomach sinks like a rock. I know what she will do.

The line starts moving again, pausing when we’re only a few feet from the opening. „What size are your feet?” She asks.

„What?” Rhiannon blinks at her.

„Your feet. What size are they?”

„Eight,” she answers, two lines forming between her brows.

„I’m seven,” Vi says quickly. „It will hurt like hell, but I want you to take my left boot. Trade with me.”

„I’m sorry?” She looks at her like she has lost her mind.

„These are rider boots. They’ll grip the stone better. Your toes will be scrunched and generally miserable, but at least you’ll have a shot at not falling off if the rain hits.”

„Oh hell, don’t you dare Violet Sorrengail,” I hiss at her. „Just minutes ago I promised your sister that you will survive this damn Parapet, and now you want to throw away your best chance? Absouletly no.

„I give you my left boot. It’s the same size.” I say to Rihannon.

„What? No, that was my idea.” Whispers Violet.

„I know, but I will do it.” I reply. „Now hurry up, we don’t have time. It’s almost our turn.”

Rhiannon purses her lips in debate for a second, then agrees, and we swap left boots. I barely finish lacing up before the line moves again.

The top of the turret is bare, the crenelations of stone rising and falling along the circular structure at the height of my chest and doing nothing to obscure the view. The ravine and its river below suddenly feel very, very far. Every trial in the quadrant – including this one – is designed to test a cadet’s ability to ride. If someone can’t manage to walk the windy length of the slim stone bridge, then they sure as hell can’t keep their balance and fight on the back of a dragon.

And as for the death rate? I guess every other rider thinks the risk is worth the glory – or has the arrogance to think they won’t fall.

I breath deeply as I walk the edge behind Rhiannon, and in front of Violet, my fingers skimming the stonework as we wind our way toward the parapet.

Three riders wait at the entrance, which is nothing more than a gaping hole in the wall of the turret. One with ripped-off sleeves records names as candidates step out onto the treacherous crossing. Another, who’s shaved all his hair with the exception of a strip down the top center, instructs Dylan as he moves into position, patting his chest like the ring hidden there will bring him luck.

The third turns in my direcion and my heart simply…stops.

He’s tall, with windblown black hair and dark brows. The line of his jaw is strong and covered by warm tawny skin and dark stubble, and when he folds his arms across his torso, the muscles in his chest and arms ripple, moving in a way that makes me swallow. And his eyes… His eyes are the shade of gold-flecked onyx. The contrast is startling, jawdropping even – everything about him is. His features are so harsh that they look carves, and yet they’re astonishingly perfect, like an artist worked a lifetime sculpting him, and at least a year of that was spent on his mouth.

He’s the most esquisite man I’ve ever seeen.

Even the diagonal scar that bisects his left eyebrow and marks the top corner of his cheek only makes him hotter. Flaming hot. Scorching hot. Gets-you-into-trouble-and-you-like-it level of hot. Suddenly, I know that I won’t take Mira’s advice that not to fuck around outside my year group.

„See you girls on the other side!” Dylan says over his shoulder with an excited grin before stepping onto the parapet, his arms spread wide.

„Ready for the next one, Riorson?” the rider with the ripped sleeves says.

Xaden Riorson?

„You ready for this, Sorrengail? I think Melgren is fine, but you seems a little pale.” Rhiannon says moving forward.

The black-haired rider snaps his gaze to mine, turning fully toward me, then he looks onto Violet. That’s when I see it, the rebellion relic. It start at his bare left wrist, then disappears under his black uniform to appear again at his collar, where it stretches and swirls up his neck, stopping at his jawline.

„Oh shit,” I whisper, and his eyes snapped back to mine, as if he can hear me over the howl of wind that rips at my secured braid.

„Sorrengail? Melgren?” He steps toward us, and I look up… and up.

Good gods, I barely reach his collarbone. He’s massive. He has to be more than four inches over six feet tall.

I nod once, while a I make sure that I stand before Violet. To my movement the shining onyx of his eyes transforms to cold, unadulterated hatred. I can almost taste the loathing wafting off him like a bitter cologne.

„Aelin?” Rhiannon asks, moving forward.

„You’re the Generals daughters.” His voice deep and accusatory.

„You’re Fen Riorson’s son,” Violet counters behind me.

Xaden sucks in a deep breath, and the muscle in his jaw flexes once. Twice. „Your mother captured my father, and her father executed him.”

„Your father killed my older brother. Seems like we’re even.” Oh gods Violet, just shut up please, I beg in my mind.

„Hardly.” His glaring gaze strokes over me like he’s memorizing every detail or looking for any weakness.

I hold his glare, as if winning this staring competition will gain us safe entrance to the quadrant instead of crossing the Parapet behind him. Either way, I’m getting across. I promised to Mira that both of us will be safe on the other side.

His hands clench into fists, and he tenses.

I prepare for the strike, if I have to protect Violet. He might want to throw us off this tower, but I won’t make it easy for him.

„You all right?” Rhiannon asks, her gaze jumping between Xaden and me.

He glances at her. „You’re friends?”

„We met on the stairs,” she says, squaring her shoulders.

He looks down, noting our mismatched boots, and arches a brow. His hands relax. „Interesting.”

Fuck, Violet and her big heart.

„Are you going to kill us?” Asks Violet behind me.

„Shit, Violet just shut up please.” I hiss at Vi. „I don’t think it is a good idea to tempt someone throwing us off, who is bigger and stronger then us. I suppose you just have a death wish with pissing him off.” I facepalmed.

His gaze clashes with mine as the sky opens and rain falls in a deluge, soaking my hair, my leathers, and the stones around us in seconds.

A scream rends the air, and we jerk our attention to the Parapet just in time to see Dylan slip.

Violet gasps behind me.

He catches himself, hooking his arms over the stone bridge as his feet kick beneath him, scrambling for a purchase that isn’t there.

„Pull yourself up, Dylan!” Rhiannon shouts.

„Oh gods!” In the corner of my eyes I see that Violet’s hand flies to cover her mouth. That’s when Dylan loses his grip on the water-slick stone and falls, disappearing from view. The wind and rain steal any sound his body might make in the valley below.

Xaden never takes his eyes from me, watching silently with a look I can’t interpret.

„Why would I waste my energy killing you when the Parapet will do it for me?” A wicked smile curves his lips. „Your turn Melgren.”

Fucking handsome bastard.

#xaden x reader #xaden riorson x reader #the fourth wing #the empyrean #xaden riorson #violet sorrengail #fourth wing fanfic #fourth wing #bodhi durran #garrick tavis #dragons #fanfiction #liam mairi

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kingdoms-and-empires · 7 months

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Kingdoms and Empires Wiki Drop!

Sup guys, im releasing what i have done in the wiki today! In this post im only going to talk about the Wiki because I dont want to create an even more massive wall of text here than it already is. Please see the entire post on the forums thread!!! I solidified the lore (which means no more massive changes), set the foundations to the story (so i dont end up writing a shit ton and having to fucking rewrite everything anymore), and pretty much rewrote the canon lore until i reached a point where i literally cannot share it because itd be spoilers without the future rewrite (regarding the worldbuilding, all introduced characters and such are still the same, some just had minor tweeks, so nothing crazy like changing our old bodyguard Mary:

and turning her into our childhood friend lmao So the plan now is current wiki drop. A good amount of it will be hidden since alot of it is spoilers, so you get 39,174 thousand words of unlocked content out of about 50k words in the wiki. And that's without me transferring 90% of the Codex ingame to the wiki, so its ALL (okay like 85%) new words of content and lore! Dont worry, im dropping literally all extra work and focusing purely on playable updates now until i regain your guy's trust in me after being so radio silent.

I also know and recognize that this has gotta be annoying asf since what you guys really want is updates but after what happened with the Total War franchise (my beloved) and their lightning fast content pipeline and lack of upgrading their engine ended up destroying the health of the company and ruining fans trust in em, id rather invest on the long term than short term unlike them (meaning id rather have a set story, narrative line complete, and research resources so that i can use that to run wild in writing).

I made a history of the world as known to them, so much of it is subject to embellishment, lies, and "the victor writes history" trope.

Historia Mundis

If you'd rather just have the list of articles that can be found within the timeline though, here it is: The Great Disturbances, Wars of Unification, and the Longwei Empire

Reign of the Daishu Dynasty

Ecumenical Dominion and the Flight of the Belthean People.

Belthean Migrations

Reign of Emperor Garland

Reign of Emperor Daerin I

Reign of Emperor Valerion

Reign of Emperor Elric I

Reign of Emperor Cenric

Reign of Emperor Saldwin

Reign of Emperor Elric II

Reign of Emperor Daerin II

The Interactive Outdated Map Yeahhh almost as soon as i published the map for the patreons it became outdated lmaoooo Nareth is much bigger than originally imagined, Argent is surrounded by mountain and forest tribes (think Hispania’s Lusitanian Wars or the Germanic Tribes type of vibe). The empire (being Imperial Chinese and Persian Empire inspired) also is surrounded by the these tribes, and the Imperial Province of Lymark is now the “Protectorate of the Western Regions” which basically means theyre the watchdogs of Western Nareth. Its funny because theyre also across the St. Hytera River, which is much like the Danube River, and will inevitably face the same issues Rome did with Dacia when they had a presence that extended the natural borders.

Master List of Articles

The Evolution of Belthean Civilization

Veldora Duchy I may have gone too far here. I regret nothing and learning about agriculture and stuff was awesome.

Silverhill Duchy Mining is alot more complicated than I thought, though Engineering MC is gonna have equally alot to improve!

Imperial Ranks The ranks will have importance. I know that sounds weird, but I did not spend an afternoon writing this just for the lulz.

Emperor/Empress

Imperial Crown Heir

Imperial Prince and Princess

Imperial Duke/Duchess

Imperial Count/Countess

The Imperial Landed Knight

The Belthean Empire The biggest entry from the ingame Codex that I transferred over and polished. This should give you a hint of how ill do the other kingdoms in the future for their article.

Kin of Arava I experimented here and instead of making an actual article, made it a class lecture of a series of days focusing on the Kin with a racist professor lmao

Zera Arava So i had to do this in intervals as I was writing and plotting out his side stories. Honestly hope i did the homie justice, he's a fav of mine, though i think each of the ROs will be favs as I write more and more about them.

Sacred Dance I assure you the Sacred Dance isnt what you think it is.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ Patreons, you guys already read the below list. However ive cleaned the articles up and polished them! The Genesis of the Belthean Empire: From Invasion to Unification

Voryn Resdayn I wanted to see how i could make a character entry. It looks awesome, but holy fuck do they take time to create lmaooo, ill make the rest of them in the future.

Kin of Arava

Eastern Kin The descendants of Kin and Beltheans who mixed, that are settled within the empire.

House Resdayn Wanted to see how I could do the houses, still unsure (okay i dont like it) of how it came out. Hence why I started with a minor house that one of the RO's belonged to.

The Astute Emperor and the Imperial Provincial Rule: A Revolutionary Shift in Governance

Master-Scholars of Jelaytha The Jelaythan organization of scholars that Master Feren is from.

Post-Unification Transformations in the Belthean Empire: Trade, Economy, Industry, and Immigration in the Wake of Conquest

Imperial Historians Obviously the imperial faction that wants to get their hands on tutoring you lmao.

Universitas Magistrorum et Scholarium The Jelaythan/Imperial organization at the forefront of the intellectual international community.

Tripartite Alliance Read what the empire is teaching their citizens about how they conquered the alliance.

The Satrap System and Imperial Provincial Rule

The Great Racist of the Academy: Imperial Historian Acillus Cinna

The Sword Saint

Master-Scholar Kaleb

The Gleaming Horizon: Silverhill's Maritime Supremacy The book of a writer who we'll meet ingame. Youll decide whether or not to bully him as a 12 year old lmao.

Baniel Worthton The author of above said book. He even wrote about himself. Yes, it's supposed to be an ick.

The Ulrich Cothon The second book of his that'll feature in the game.

So…I guess in basketball or futbol terms… rebuilding phase is over, and i got all the players i need for a championship run!

It was an almost year long rebuilding phase, true, but omg it was so needed.

Plus I also learned alot of fucking coding at the same time lmao. Basically a lot of tweaking around with Choicescript and knowing how to code some actions. Also there's CoG implementing a new checkpoint system so thank fuck for that because this game's gonna be huge and id hate to play it without a save system.

#kingdomsandempires #interactive fiction #announcement #choice of games #kaewiki

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massvoraciuseffect · 18 days

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Predators in Citadel Space: Before the Reaper invasion.

Before the events of Mass Effect 1, the world was characterized primarily by the existence of predatory races, namely the Asari, the Quarians, and the newcomers - humans. You can read more about the features of vore-implants, and predators of different races at the link: https://massvoraciuseffect.tumblr.com/settingreboot. This will also describe the major changes in the politics and culture of the setting prior to Mass Effect 1.

Humans first got their first clues about vore from data from the Protean Beacon on Mars, and met the first predator, an asari ambassador, during negotiations with the turians towards the end of the First Contact War. The War itself differed little from canon. Due to initial fear and non-acceptance of vore, quite a few harsh laws were passed within the Alliance, which only under the influence of the asari (and large economic concessions) began to be loosened little by little. There was a real push to develop vore implants after Menduar, Elysium, and Torfan, when the few soldiers with vore implants demonstrated higher effectiveness on average than soldiers without vore implants.

(Jane Shepard's comment: I was on Elysium, and I was one of the women who got a tenfold increase in research funding, and it was there that I realized that eating someone can sometimes mean saving them. That day, in my body as fat and muscle cells, I saved over 40 wounded civilians, some even after reformation had to be rushed to hospitals - they were so badly injured by the pirates. Anyway, the implant that I originally put in stupidly for perks ended up changing my life)

By the beginning of Mass Effect 1, there were enough predators among the Alliance military and some other segments of the population for other races to recognize humanity as a "predatory race" on par with the Asari, Quarians, and Turians. One additional basis for the economic dominance of the Asari is their companies to extract and develop gases to run the reform stations. Evil tongues say that one of the reasons the asari are so instrumental in helping the spread of vore in the Galaxy is to increase the volume and revenue of this market. Predators are very common among the asari, and the older an asari is, the more likely she is to have a vore implant. This has greatly influenced the entire culture of the race, and given their longevity, for some asari to decide that she wants to spend a couple years as a breast padding for a predator she likes is a very simple and easy decision. Asari believe that being part of a predator's body not only gives them their knowledge and mass, but they themselves learn from the predator, her worldview and philosophy. Because of this, asari do not have regular prisons - some predators simply pass a special exam that gives them permission to work as "prisons". Such a predator must have both a strong and kind character. Over time, other races began to copy this system, either using their own predators or specifically hiring asari predators.

(Liara's comment: I would like to point out that while there are many examples of the truth of this opinion, there are also many examples of the opposite - there have been cases of hardened robbers and thieves, even after centuries of fat imprisonment, returning to criminal activity after reformation. Studies on the influence of predators and preys on each other are still underway)

There is little to add about the Turians and Salarians outside of canon, except that a fairly large portion of them choose not to retire, but to be permanently consumed by one of the predators, wishing that their knowledge and skills that they have not had time to share would remain with the predator of their choice. Among the Quarians, predators have an even more respected and higher status than matriarchs among the Azari. This has a deep historical and pragmatic basis, for example - Quarian predators have immunity comparable to normal human immunity. Traditionally, if a Quarian woman becomes Admiral of the Flotilla, she is always a predator. A Quarian predator is expected to render excellent service to the entire nation and the Flotilla, and in return, they have almost no limits to who they can devour. This sometimes leads to misunderstanding from other races.

(Tali's comment: In short, a predator of my people can eat the crew of an entire ship, but only if she has already earned respect among the Quarians by her work and deeds. For example, I, as a war heroine and a conventional "admiral", can eat anyone but another admiral. Same with Admiral Xen and my aunt. But other predators, if they eat someone important, must either prove that they can completely replace them with their deeds, or face the consequences. Usually not overt ones - just at some point, the overly voracious predator disappears somewhere, and my aunt or Admiral Xen gains a couple hundred pounds or tons of extra weight in her thighs. In general, outlaws are not liked anywhere).

#reboot codex #muse: tali #muse:liara #muse:shepard #codex article

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desperatelyseekingcannibals · 4 months

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The Suitor (Hannigram/Kaisergram/DogsDogs AU) - Shortfic

Explicit // M/M // Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter, Will Graham/Nigel (Charlie Countryman), Will Graham/Duncan Vizla (Polar), Will/Hannibal/Nigel/Duncan // Tags: Alternate Universe, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha/Omega, Royalty AU, Prince Will, Harem, age difference, manipulation, manipulative Will, older alphas/younger omega, Alpha Hannibal Lecter, Omega Will Graham, Alpha Nigel, Alpha Duncan, multi-sex omega, almost incest, heat sex, fertile heat, breeding, pregnancy, mpreg, vaginal sex, triple penetration in one hole, vaginal sex (AFAB language used), come inflation, M/M/M/M. Prompt Fill.

Young Prince Will, having turned twenty on his last birthday and deep into his first fertile heat, bends the law in order to choose a suitor.

Latest installment on my @hannibalbingo card: Harem

The Suitor (3.2k words):

“What’s going on here!” King William roared the words as he stormed towards his omegan son’s quarters.

“Sire,” Chilton winced as he tried to step between his majesty and the door, without trying to seem obstructive. The two guards posted at the doors looked uncomfortable but held their ground, did their duty. Which was to not allow the prince to be disturbed no matter by what or who.

“You sanctioned this,” Chilton held up his hands in placation, “and according to the law, the prince must be allowed to--”

“I didn’t sanction THIS!” The King’s finger pointed violently at the closed door as they all tried to ignore the sounds within, loud enough that they resonated through the thick wood.

“Of course, Sire, and of course I wouldn’t dream of contradicting you, but…” Chilton was nervous as he waved over the Prince’s aide who had come from his room on hearing the commotion. Jimmy nodded and quickly ran off, returning seconds later with a large codex, available so quickly as this situation had been anticipated.

Jimmy flipped the huge tome to the correct page and then turned it to face the king, holding it like a book stand as Chilton pointed out the relevant law.

“You agreed that he could invoke article 6 of the Harem Act,” Chilton said as he pointed to the exact clause.

“I did, but… they are all in there! I can hear them!” King William shouted, his lip curling into a snarl. “I said he could take one of his harem as his mate if they got him pregnant during his first fertile heat, as the law allows.”

It was clear to them all that the King had not expected any of them to get him pregnant, and he especially hadn’t expected the young prince to take them all at once.

“They are ALL in there!” The King reiterated and Chilton winced.

Continue on AO3

#hannibal #hannigram #fanfic #hannigram au #mads mikkelsen #hugh dancy #will graham #hannibal lecter #myfic #omegaverse #kaisergram #dogsdogs

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teecupangel · 6 months

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I recently learned that Abstergo knew to find Desmond thanks to a book Ezio wrote, which is both interesting and also wut? XD According to this, they knew about Desmond since 2002 and i have always wondered how they knew he was an Assassin.

https://assassinscreed.fandom.com/wiki/Prophet%27s_Codex

I always thought Lucy leaked his files or something(might still have as they knew he ran away?). Did you know about this? Or did you too have another HC about how the Templars knew about Desmond?

I knew about the Prophet Codex but I knew of it quite later on.

To be more exact, the comics it’s part of is part of the Ubiworkshop collector’s edition of AC3 together with the Fall so I was able to read it and go "????" before I read the wiki article XD. It’s a compilation of The Fall and The Chain titled Subject 4 that focuses on Daniel Cross.

In that specific section, he reads Minerva's lines then says this:

So they didn’t know about Desmond Miles.

They knew of a ‘Desmond’.

My HC is that they only connected Desmond Miles to the ‘Desmond’ in Ezio’s writings after they learned that Desmond Miles is also Ezio’s descendant.

So they knew a message was meant to be for ‘Desmond’ but I don’t think they would immediately connect it with Desmond Miles, the runaway son of William Miles. They would focus on Desmonds during Ezio's time first.

Lucy would have still leaked out his identity as William Miles’ son before Cross got the Prophet’s Codex and he would be part of a list that Abstergo had because they would want to know all the Assassins they could find out.

So my HC is that Abstergo learned Desmond Miles is an Assassin because of Lucy Stillman.

Sidebar, the casing where the Prophet’s Codex is stored looks a lot like the AC2 Brotherhood Codex Edition.

#ask and answer #assassin's creed #desmond miles #daniel cross #headcanon: assassin's creed

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starryblueeyesandstarryblueskies · 11 months

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Welcome to the Fourth Wing

“A dragon without his rider is a tragedy, a rider without his dragon is dead. -Article One, Section One, The Dragon Rider’s Codex”

#I jumped on the band wagon and read this book and let me just say it was well worth it #i loved it #fourth wing #rebecca yarros #violet sorrengail #xaden riorson #dain aetos #tairn #sgaeyl #andarna #violet and xaden #xadenviolet #book aesthetic #fourth wing aesthetic #starryblueeyesandstarryblueskies

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explodingquails · 1 year

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Hades II Theory Regarding Chronos

I have been playing a ton of Hades after the Hades II trailer got me hooked. Currently about 80 hours in, and I noticed something that made me speculate on the Chronos storyline.

Basically I think the Satyr Cultists that Zagreus encounters in the Temple of Styx are actually worshippers of Chronos, and their activity is directly linked to the titan's escape from imprisonment in the sequel.

This is the Codex entry for Satyr Cultists taken from the wiki:

When I first read it, I found it strange that Hades, the immensely powerful God of the Dead, would be worried about some goat-people freeloading in a temple so far above his residing domain in Tartarus. Also why is the satyrs' hatred for Hades so pronounced? This feels like one of the unresolved plot points in the first game that is more than likely to be expanded in the sequel.

Achilles's Codex entry calls satyrs "vermin-worshippers". I first assumed this to mean the satyrs worship the rats they share the temple with, but that just felt odd. Then during my runs passing through the Temple of Styx, I noticed that there are statues of vipers/snakes everywhere.

There is also the hostile Snakestone mob that sometimes can be found in the same room as Satyr Cultists. According to Achilles's Codex:

"..the boorish satyrs despoiling the surface seem to take up residence in the same spaces, and may well be to blame for these nuisances, as they are for many others."

So it is implied that the satyrs built the Snakestones, and by extension I suspect that the snake, and not the rats, is the actual subject of worship for this "cult".

And in Greek mythology, the snake is, interestingly, a symbol of Cronus, the King of the Titans.

Here is an article I found that mentions the relationship between Cronus/Chronos (Hades II is conflating these two figures it looks like) the snake, particularly in Orphic poetry. Apparently in some versions, Cronus has the lower half body of a snake.

The game tells us that the satyrs are openly antagonistic towards the House of Hades. Maybe their hatred comes from Chronos being defeated and eventually held hostage in Hades's domain?

Also worth mentioning that while the origin of the word "satyr" is unclear, it has been speculated that the name is related to the root "sat-", which means "to sow". Remarkably, it is also the root of Saturn, a.k.a. the Roman equivalent of Cronus.

TLDR: The satyrs cult Zagreus fights in the Temple of Styx may in fact be worshippers of Chronos, as evidenced by the abundance of snake motifs and artifacts in their lair. The satyrs may have a role in Chronos escaping imprisonment in Tartarus, leading to the events of Hades II.

#hades game #hades #hades 2 #hades ii #chronos #temple of styx #satyrs #greek mythology #supergiant games #sorry if I didn't organize my thoughts as clearly as possible #I love this game and I love greek mythology #and I can't help but nerd out over little details like that

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randombibitch · 5 months

Text

As My Worlds Collide Ch.1

A Dragon without its rider is a tragedy. A rider without their dragon is dead. —Article One, Section One The Dragon Rider’s Codex

As a child, there were only a few things I knew for sure. No.1, I was going to be a rider or die trying; No.2, When I turned of age I would end up married to Xaden Riorson; No.3. Those who didn't fight, died; No.4. Avoid Sorrengails. Half of those things have changed, and I never cared enough to make a new list. But when I get confused or my emotions get the better of me, I repeat those things. Well, that's apparently a bad idea when you're trying not to be noticed by your childhood friends.

"Last time I checked I'm your superior" "Last time I checked I don't give a fuck"

______________________________________________________________

I sit in General Melgren’s office in silence, like I had been for the past 2 hours. He sat across from me, working through the stack of paper that seemed to be added to every 5 minutes by a scribe that always left quickly, reports from the war no doubt, and she hoped that it was good news. So caught up in her own head she didn’t notice her father had set down the pen he was using, and now was watching her with unreadable eyes.

“Are you ready for today?” he asks.

I know it’s a trick question, I have to be ready, there isn’t a choice. “Of course, if anything I'm looking forward to it,” I respond, shoving any fear I have into a box in the back of my mind, I can deal with it later. I already know where I'm going, it was decreed by my father that anyone with a rebellion relic had to go to Basgiath War College, even the girl the general raised as his own.

He dismisses me and I walk out with my pack, almost running into Violet and Mira. “She didn’t change her mind?” I ask, looking towards Mira.

“No, she’s standing by what she said,” Mira growles, “bitch,” she adds under her breath as she grabs my pack from me.

I glance at Vi, “while it sucks that she can’t choose, I have no doubt that she will get through this, and while she may not have grown up training like we did, she did occasionally work with us, and have some faith Mira.”

Vi shoots me a small smile, no doubt glad to have someone standing up for her, especially if it was one of her childhood best friends.

“Let’s go. We only have an hour before all candidates have to report, and I saw thousands waiting outside the gates when I flew over.” Mira starts walking, leading us down the stone staircases and through the hallways to Vi’s room.

We arrived and Mira pushed the door open, revealing the room to be stripped bare with all of Vi’s belongings packed into crates that were stacked in the corner. I glance over at her quickly, and I see the hurt in her eyes.

“She’s fucking efficient, I’ll give you that,” Mira mutters, turning to face Vi, silently accessing her. “I was hoping I’d be able to talk her out of it. You were never meant for the Riders Quadrant.”

“So you’ve mentioned,” Vi says, raising an eyebrow.

“Sorry.” she winces, dropping to the ground and emptying her pack.

“What are you doing,” I finally ask.

“What Brennan did for me,” she says softly, grief washes through me and I can tell the words affected Violet similarly. “Can either of you wield a sword?”

Vi shakes her head, “too heavy, I’m pretty quick with daggers through.” She was selling herself short, I had watched her train, and she was far more than “quick”.

Mira glances towards me, waiting for an answer. “Yeah, usually dual wield short swords, but I like having daggers on me in case I get disarmed.”

She nods thinking to herself. “So I was right. Good. Now drop your pack and take off your boots." She grabs two pairs of boots and black uniforms. “Put these on, and yes Lia, I know you have rider's boots, but I consider you my sister so I’m making sure you're safe too.”

I allow a small smile and drop my pack, letting her do a quick look through.

“What’s wrong with my pack,” Vi asks, letting hers fall to the ground. “Mira! That took me all night!”

I glance down, “You’re carrying too much girl.”

“She’s right,” Mira agrees. “Also your boots are a death trap. You’ll slip right off the parapet with those smooth soles. That’s why I had two sets of rubber-bottomed rider boots made for the both of you just in case, and this, my dear Violet, is the worse case.” She starts throwing books from Vi’s rucksack towards the corner.

“Hey!” Violet protests, “I can only take what I can carry, and I want those!” She lunges at Mira, grabbing the book she was about to throw, barely saving it.

“Are you willing to die for it?” she asks, her eyes turning hard.

“I can carry it,” Violet tries again. I make note of that, realizing that she’s too attached for her own good, and that may destroy her at Basgiath.

“VI,” I interrupt her rambling. “When we’re walking the parapet, everything matters, and I don’t want to risk losing you. You’re probably only a third of the weight of that thing, and the parapet is narrow as all fuck.”

“About eighteen inches, and two hundred feet aboveground,” Mira cuts in, knowing how much Vi likes her statistics.

“And rain clouds are moving in, which I highly doubt they will care about,” I add, hoping that she’ll listen.

Mira nods. “You’ll fall. You’ll die. Now, are you going to listen to us? Or are you going to join the other dead candidates at tomorrow morning’s roll call?”

I tense, it’s the truth, but that doesn’t mean it’s easy to hear. Mira stands before us, not as a sister or a friend, but as a rider. This version of her is the one that survived three years in a school meant to kill you and came out only with one scar, which her own dragon had given to her during Threshing.

“Because that’s all you’ll be. Another tombstone. Another name scorched in stone. Ditch the books,” she says, it was obvious that Vi wouldn’t be taking the books, the only question was if they were going to end up a pile of ash in the process.

“Dad gave this one to me,” Vi murmurs, almost too quiet to hear and clutches the book tighter.

Mira sighs, and although she doesn’t show it, she’s obviously starting to get really nervous. “Is it that old book of folklore about dark-wielding vermin and their wyvern? Haven’t you read it a thousand times already?”

“Probably more,” she admits. “And they’re venin, nor vermin.”

“I would argue that they’re both,” I mutter, and luckily neither of them hear me.

“Dad and his allegories,” Mira responds. “Just don’t try to channel power without being a bonded rider and red-eyed monsters won’t hide under your bed, waiting to snatch you away on their two-legged dragons to join their dark army.”

She grabs the last book I packed from the rucksack and hands it to Vi. “Ditch the books. Dad can’t save you. He tried. I tried. Decide, Violet. Are you going to die a scribe? Or live as a rider?”

Vi hesitates, “You’re a pain in the ass,” and goes to put the fables in the corner with the rest of her boxed belongings, but she keeps the other tome.

“A pain in the ass who is going to keep you alive. What’s that one for?” Mira challenges, unwilling to back down in slightest.

“Killing people,” Vi says, handing it back to her.

Mira glances at me and we both grin. “Good. you can keep that one. Now, get changed while I sort out the rest of your messes.” The bell rings above us. Forty-five minutes until we get shoved into a test of balance, if we don't succeed, we die.

Vi and I start changing, and Mira got our sizes perfect. Our tunics switch to tight-fitting black shirts that cover our arms - which I highly appreciate as it covers not only my rebelion relic, but also covers the one that stretches across most of my torso, which was given to me at 6 when I bonded to Taz. Next comes tight fitting leather pants that make Vi’s ass look good, and lastly Mira helps us lace up vest-style corsets over our shirts.

“Keeps it from rubbing,” she explains.

“Like the gear riders wear into battle,” Vi murmurs, looking down at herself.

“Exactly, because that’s what you’re doing. Going into battle.”

Vi looks nervous, so I bump my hip into hers, “Come on girly, stop looking so down, we look hot as fuck, maybe we’ll even find someone to spend the night with.”

Mira laughs, “Maybe you will.”

I finally glance at myself in the mirror, leather and fabric covers my body, wrapping around my curves, and hidden sheaths are sewn diagonally along the rib cage, as well as several on my thighs.

“For you’re daggers.” Mira answers the unsaid question.

“I only have four.” Vi says, grabbing them off the floor.

“You’ll earn more.” She responds, not a comment, almost a command.

I start putting my daggers into their sheathes, and it almost feels as if they’ve become a part of me. The blades will be easily accessible, but I still make sure to put my two favorites in what I decide are the best places, left mid rib, top right thigh. Mira also hands me two sheathes attached to a black leather belt, two custom swords already in it.

Soon most of the sheaths have a weapon in them and when I look in the mirror again I look like a real rider.

Soon Mira deemed our packs ready, and I also made sure that the book that Vi had wanted to take went in mine, behind her back of course. Anything sentimental had been discarded, and she starts braiding Vi’s hair, promising to do mine right after.

“What is this?” Vi asks, scratching the vest gently.

“Something I designed,” she explains, tugging her hair tighter. “I had it specially made for the two of you with Teine’s scales sewn in, so be careful with it.”

“Dragon scales,” Vi says, turning her head to look at Mira. “How? Teine is huge.”

“I happen to know a rider whose powers can make big things very small.” A smile plays across her lips. “And smaller things…much, much bigger.”

“How much bigger are we talking,” I ask, grinning at her.

Vi rolls her eyes at us and Mira laughs.

“Head forward. You both should of cut your hair.” she resumes braiding Vi’s hair. “It’s a liability in sparring and in battle, not to mention Vi’s hair is a giant target. No one else has hair that fades out to silver like this, and they’ll already be aiming at both of you.

“You know very well the natural pigment seems to gradually abandon it no matter the length.” Vi protests, and it’s true, as long as I’d known her it had always faded. “Besides, other than everyone else’s concern for the shade, my hair is the only thing about me that’s perfectly healthy. Cutting it would feel like I’m punishing my body for finally doing something well, and it’s not like I feel the need to hide who I am.”

“You’re not.” Mira pulls Vi’s head back. “You’re the smartest woman I know. Don’t forget that. Your brain is your best weapon. Outsmart them, Violet. Do you hear me?”

Vi nods and Mira lets her head go, before looking up at me. “What about you? Can I convince you to cut your hair?”

“No way,” I shake my head. “First of all it pulls a little attention off of Vi if someone else also has long hair, and number two is I like my hair long, plus if I wanted a challenge I could leave it down during sparring.”

Mira rolls her eyes but lets it go, before starting to summarize 20 years of knowledge into fifteen minutes.

“Be observant. Quiet is fine, but make sure you notice everything and everyone around you to your advantage. You’ve both read the Codex?”

“A few times.” Vi responds.

“Had to memorize it when I was younger,” I shrug.

Mira glances at me, understanding in her eyes. “Good. Then you know that the other riders can kill you at any time, and the cutthroat cadets will try. Fewer cadets means better odds at Threshing. There are never enough dragons willing to bond, and anyone reckless enough to get themselves killed isn’t worthy of a dragon anyway. Lia, you don’t have to worry about being bonded, but you need to hide your bond relic, though you probably want to hide both.”

I nod.

“Except when sleeping. It’s an executable offense to attack any cadet while sleeping. Article Three—” Violet starts.

“Yes but that doesn’t mean you’re safe at night. Sleep in this if you can.” Mira cuts her off, tapping the corset.

“Rider black is supposed to be earned. You’re sure that we shouldn’t wear our tunics today?” Vi questions.

I understand where she’s coming from, but I do not feel the same. I grew up knowing that riders only ever really followed one rule. Do what you have to do to survive. No one will give a shit what we wear, just if we succeed.

“The wind up on the parapet will catch any spare cloth like a sail.” Mira counters, handing back our packs. Vi’s looks majorly lighter. “The tighter your clothes, the better off you are up there, and in the ring once you start sparring. Wear the armor at all times. Keep your daggers on you at all times.” She catches the look on my face and turns to fully face me. “I mean it Amelia, you will be targeted, keep the armour on.”

“Someone’s going to say we didn’t earn them.” Vi protests.

“You’re a Sorrengail and a Melgran, fuck what they say.”

“And you don’t think dragon scales are cheating?” Vi questions.

“There’s no such thing as cheating, Vi. Just surviving.” I answer.

“Lia is unfortunately right, once you climb the turret anything goes. There’s only survival and death.”

The bell chimes, we’re running out of time—only thirty minutes left.

“It’s almost time. Ready?” Mira asks us.

“No.” Vi’s answer comes quickly and both turn to me.

“Probably never will be,” I say, glancing down.

“Neither was I.” A wry smile lifts the corner of her mouth. “And I’d had more training than both of you.”

“We are not going to die today.” Vi says, slinging her pack over her shoulders, and it’s obvious that she’s not struggling half as much any more. “And when we get there I want my book back.”

I grin as we leave, and I make sure not to look back, I made up my mind, and there was no going back.

The halls of the central, administrative part of the fortress are eerily quiet as we wind our way down through various staircases, but the noise from outside grows louder the lower we descend. Thousands of candidates gather on the field, hugging and saying goodbyes, for some, it may be final. Several wagons are waiting, they would soon be full of the bodies that fall from the parapet, I would not want that job.

Mira stops before we turn into the courtyard.

She pulls us close to her, wrapping her arms around us, holding us tightly.

“I love you both. Violet, remember everything I’ve told you. Don’t become another name on the death roll. Amelia, you probably won’t listen to this advice but I'll give it anyways. Try and keep your head down, don’t be noticed. Not only are you General Melgren’s daughter, you have a rebellion and a bond relic. Keep. Them. Hidden. And if you absolutely refuse to keep your head down, at least go out with a bang.”

I smile up at her, gripping her tighter. “We will see you at the end of the year. I don’t care what it takes.”

“I know. Let’s go.” She says, pulling away from us.

We follow as she walks into the crowded courtyard, just inside the main gates. Most of the “important” adults are gathered nearby, waiting for the chaos right outside to cease. I don’t see my father though, which means something came up, something bad.

“Find Dain Aetos,” Mira tells us as we walk towards the open gate.

“Dain?” Vi says, smiling. She’s always had a crush on him (and I was certainly NOT jealous of it), but other than that, he’s been Vi’s friend longer than I had been considered Melgren’s daughter, and also one of the only other people who accepted and knew about me.

“I’ve only been out of the quadrant for three years, but from what I hear, he’s doing well, and he’ll keep you safe. Don’t smile like that,” Mira chides Vi. “He’ll be a second-year.” She shakes her finger. “Don’t mess around with second-years. If you want to get laid, and you should” —she lifts her brows— “often, considering you never know what the day brings, then screw around in your own year. Nothing is worse than cadets gossiping that you’ve slept your way to safety.” She turns to me, “I see the smirk on your face, Lia, don’t.”

“So I’m free to take any of the first-years I want to bed,” Vi says with a grin, glancing at me. “Just not the second- or third-years.”

“Exactly.” She winks.

Finally we leave the gates, leaving the fortress, joining the organized chaos, and for some reason, I feel like something more is gonna change than just becoming a rider, it feels like the next time we’re here, it’s not going to be under good circumstances.

The air seems thick with anticipation as Mira leads us along a worn cobblestone path toward the southern turret. The main college is built into the side of Basgiath Mountain, its namesake. It looks daunting from where I stand, and not exactly welcoming.

A large part of the crowd moves to the base of the north turret—the entrance to the Infantry Quadrant. Some of the people go towards the Healers Quadrant, and a smaller group goes towards the Scribe Quadrant, and I glance at Violet just in time to see her flick her gaze from the tunnel.

The way to the Riders Quadrant is just a heavy looking door at the base of the tower that looks like it belongs in a military outpost.

Mira guides us to the riders’ line, and I bounce slightly, unable to keep still. I look up and see the parapet, and of course the first thought in my head is ‘do a backflip’.

Taz finally breaks my mental barriers, what she’s been trying to do for the past several hours.

Do not be unwise,” she mutters, and I can sense the displeasure radiating from her. “You should be able to skip all of this, you have nothing to prove, I have already chosen you.”

“It’ll probably teach me something,” I reply, “Even if it’s just who's the best in bed.”

I hear a snort and then she goes quiet for a moment.

“You do realize the Riorson boy will be there?” She asks.

“Yes”

“And you do realize he is bonded to Sgael?”

“Yes” “Good, keep your mind guarded.”

“I will.”

This time when she goes silent she does not speak again, allowing me to put my focus back on Mira and Vi just in time for Vi to mutter about playing on a balance beam.

“Don’t let the wind sway your steps,” Mira advises.

Parents are crying around us, trying to cling to their children, and many choose to leave as not to have to watch.

“Keep your eyes on the stones ahead of you and don’t look down,” Mira says, “Arms out for balance. If the pack slips, drop it. Better it falls than you.”

“Maybe we should let them go first,” Vi whispers, fear filling her eyes.

“No,” Mira answers. “The longer you wait on those steps” —she gestures at the tower— “the greater your fear has a chance to grow. Cross the parapet before the terror owns you.”

I let my hand find Vi’s, squeezing it gently. The line moves, the bell chimes, eight o’clock. By now everyone has separated into their quadrants, and people are officially signing. By the end of the day around 15% of the people in this line will be dead, probably more.

“Focus,” Mira snaps, making both Vi and I look at her. “This is going to sound harsh, but don’t make friendships in there. Forge alliances.”

Two people are between us and the roll, a pretty woman who looks like she could be a goddess and a blond guy who’s bicep is probably bigger than my fucking face. He’s holding a large rucksack, at least double the size of mine, why the fuck couldn’t I be taller, that would make this shit so much easier.

I hear Vi ask Mira if the guy working the roll is a “separatist’s kid” and I look behind me and Mira winces.

“Sorry Lia.”

I turn back around and actually glance at his arm, the branded relic from Codagh, the punishment for our parents actions. I analize him, trying to figure out if I once knew him, finally deciding I didn’t.

“A dragon did that?” Vi whispers shook.

Vi had always known vaguely what rebellion relics were, but no one wanted to burden her with the full knowledge.

Mira nods. “Mom says General Melgren’s dragon did it to all of them when he executed their parents, but she wasn’t exactly open to further discussion on the topic. Nothing like punishing the kids to deter more parents from committing treason.”

Both of them look at me and I shrug, “Dad made sure I was desensitized to comments like that young, don’t worry about it.”

“Still, you shouldn't have to deal with us making comments like that. We’re sorry.” Mira says.

“It’s fine, Vi needs to know these things.” I respond.

Mira hesitates but continues. “Most of the marked kids who carry rebellion relics are from Tyrrendor, of course, but there are a few whose parents turned traitor from the other provinces—” Suddenly she freezes, and turns us to look at her. “I just remembered,” she says quietly. “Stay the hell away from Xaden Riorson.”

Vi and I both freeze, though for very different reasons.

“That Xaden Riorson,” she confirms, fear in her gaze. “He’s a third-year, and he will kill you the second he finds out who you are.”

I try to decide how to respond, and if I should tell Vi the importance of keeping my name shortened, but decide not to and just act how I normally do. “If he’s hot I’ll let him.”

“Lia!” Vi and Mira both exclaim and I laugh.

“Sorry, sorry, continue.”

“All the children of the leader were conscripted as punishment for their parents’ crimes,” Mira says, keeping her voice down as we move with the line. “Mom told me they never expected Riorson to make it past the parapet. Then they figured a cadet would kill him, but once his dragon chose him…” She pauses, shaking her head. “Well there’s nothing much that can be done then. He’s risen to the rank of wingleader.”

I think for a minute, what happens if I get put in his wing? Probably nothing good.

“That’s bullshit,” Vi says angrily.

“He’s sworn allegiance to Navarre, but I don’t think that will stop him where either of you are concerned. Once you get across the parapet—because you both will make it across—find Dain. He’ll put you both in his squad, and we’ll just hope it’s far from Riorson.” She looks between us. “Stay. Away. From. Him.”

“Noted.” Vi responds and I shrug.

“I’ll do my best.”

Mira sighs but before she can comment we’re called forward.

Captain Fitzgibbons’s looks at Violet, shocked. “Violet Sorrengail?”

She nods, signing her name on the roll, and I can’t help to think that this may be the last time she ever writes. I shake my head. We will make it across.

“But I thought you were meant for the Scribe Quadrant,” he quietly says.

“General Sorrengail chose otherwise,” Mira responds.

“Pity. You had so much promise.”

I want to punch him right between the eyes. Of course he’s frustrated. Vi was one of the best initiates for the Scribe Quadrant.

“By the gods,” the rider near Fitzgibbons says. “You’re Mira Sorrengail?” He looks like he just saw his idol and it’s starting to make me mad. She’s still a fucking human.

“I am.” Mira says, nodding. “These are my sisters, Violet and Lia. They’ll be first-years.”

I allow a small smile. She’s never actually said it, but I knew she always felt that way. Unfortunately, the smile doesn’t last long.

“If they survive the parapet.” Someone behind us snickers. “Wind just might blow them off.”

I spin fully prepared to punch him in the face, but Mira grabs my shoulders and shakes her head. The message is obvious. Save it for the sparring mat.

“You fought at Strythmore,” the rider cuts back in. “They gave you the Order of the Talon for taking out that battery behind enemy lines.”

Although I hate the fanboying, I appreciate the fact that the dumbass behind us shuts up.

“As I was saying.” Mira says, taking a step forward, “these are my sisters.”

I reach forward and sign my name below Vi’s.

Fitzgibbons nods. “No surprise there, just don’t get too confident.”

I nod and let Mira guide us towards the door into the turret.

Mira pauses by the doorway turning to us.

“Don’t die. I’d hate to be an only child.” She grins before walking away, and people can’t seem to take their eyes off of her. I just can’t tell if it’s because of her accomplishment or because she’s hot.

“Tough to love up to that,” the woman in front of us says, glancing back.

“It is,” Violet agrees, and we walk into the dark tower. It takes a minute for my eyes to adjust. Was it really that hard to put some form of lighting in here?

“Sorrengail and Melgren as in…?” the asks as we start to climb the hundreds of stairs.

“Yep.” Vi responds for the both of us.

I look around in the dim lighting, no railing. The test of balance has already started.

“The generals?” the blond man with the rebellion relic asks.

“The same ones,” I mutter. “Unfortunately.”

Vi offers a smile to them and gently wacks me.

“Wow. Nice leathers, too.” He smiles at us.

“Thanks. They’re courtesy of our sister.” Vi responds

“Ok. I’ve got to ask, you said Melgren and Sorrengail, yet you refer to each other as sisters. Why?” The guy asks.

“We grew up together.” I supply. “At this point we basically are.” and Vi nods.

“I wonder how many candidates have fallen off the edge of the steps and died before they even reach the parapet,” the woman says, glancing down.

“Don’t look down,” I say, and her eyes focus back on the stairs.

“Two last year.” Vi says, tilting her head. “Three if you count the girl one of the guys landed on.”

The woman's eyes widen, but she keeps climbing. “How many steps are there?” she asks.

“Two hundred and fifty,” Vi answers, and we fall into silence as we climb.

“Not too bad,” the woman says, smiling as we near the top. “I’m Rhiannon Matthias, by the way.”

“Dylan,” the blond guy responds with an enthusiastic wave.

“Violet.”

“Lia,” I smile. It’s obvious that both Vi and I are ignoring Mira’s advice of “no friends.”

“I feel like I’ve been waiting my entire life for this day.” Dylan shifts. “Can you believe we actually get to do this? It’s a dream come true.”

“It is,” I respond, bouncing on my feet. “Would it be dumb to try and do a backflip or front handspring?”

Dylan grins, “Do it.”

Rhiannon laughs, “Heck yeah, that would be awesome.”

Vi rolls her eyes and flicks me. “Don’t, you promised Mira you wouldn’t die.”

I shrug, “I could survive.”

Vi shakes her head but lets it go.

“I can’t fucking wait.” Rhiannon’s smile widens. “I mean, who wouldn’t want to ride a dragon?”

Vi looks uncomfortable so I bump her gently. I need to make sure she doesn’t get to in her own head.

“Do your parents approve?” Dylan asks. “Because my mom’s been begging me to change my mind for months. I keep telling her that I’ll have better chances for advancement as a rider, but she wanted me to enter the Healer Quadrant.”

“Mine always knew I wanted this, so they’ve been pretty supportive. Besides, they have my twin to dote on. Raegan’s already living her dream, married and expecting a baby.” Rhiannon glances at us. “What about you guys? With names like those, I bet you guys were the first to volunteer this year.”

“I was more like volun-told.” Vi answers, looking down.

“Gotcha.” Rhiannon responds. “What about you?”

“Always wanted to do this. My dad of course was thrilled.”

“No doubt,” Dylan says.

“And riders do get way better perks than other officers,” Vi says to Dylan as the line moves up.

The snickering dumbass behind us catches up, looking exhausted, and I grin.

“No shit,” I cut in. “Better pay, more leniency with the uniform policy and fire breathing giant flying lizards.”

“And the right to call yourself a supreme badass,” Rhiannon adds.

“That too,” Vi nods. “Pretty sure they issue you an ego with your flight leathers.”

“Plus, I’ve heard that riders are allowed to marry sooner than the other quadrants,” Dylan says.

“True. Right after graduation.” Vi responds. “I think it has something to do with wanting to continue bloodlines.”

“Or because we tend to die sooner than the other quadrants,” Rhiannon muses.

“I’m not dying,” Dylan says with confidence as he tugs a necklace from under his tunic to reveal a ring dangling from the chain. “She said it would be bad luck to propose before I left, so we’re waiting until graduation.” He kisses the ring before tucking it back into his tunic. “The next three years are going to be long ones, but they’ll be worth it.”

I stop myself from rolling my eyes, it’s too sappy, but it’s still cute.

“You might make it across the parapet,” the guy behind us sneers. “These two are a breeze away from the bottom of the ravine.”

Vi rolls her eyes and I turn to flip him off.

“Shut up and focus on yourself,” Rhiannon snaps, continuing to climb.

The top comes into sight and the light makes me disoriented but I don’t stop. The rain clouds are quickly approaching and if they hit us it may cause complications.

“Let me see your boots,” I hear Vi say to Rhiannon quietly.

She shows us her shoes and sure enough they are smooth.

“What size are your feet?” Vi asks.

“What?” Rhiannon says, confused

“You’re feet. What size are they?”

“Eight,” She answers.

“I’m a seven,” Vi quickly says. “It will hurt like hell, but—” “No” I cut in. “Take my left boot, we have the same size.”

Vi glances at me and I shake my head at her. I will keep her alive.

“I’m sorry?” Rhiannon looks between us like we’re insane.

“Rider boots,” I supply. “They’re meant to help you walk on the back of your dragon, which means they have grips. With the rain coming in at the speed it is, this may be your best shot at not falling.”

She glances at me, then at the rain. “You’re willing to trade a boot?”

“Until we get across.” We’re quickly approaching the parapet. “We need to hurry.”

Rhiannon pauses, thinking about it before agreeing and we quickly trade, finishing just before the line moves. The guy behind us shoves Vi forward onto the platform and I shove my foot back so he’s forced to take a step back.

“Hurry up. Some of us have things to do on the other side.” He growls and I have half a mind to shove him off the stairs, but Vi spins me back around.

“Not worth the effort right now,” Vi mutters, pulling us forward.

The top of the turret is bare, and the ravine is far below, if I get too close to the edge I have no doubt someone will push me off. I can see the dots below us, five or six wagons, no doubt for the bodies. Every trial is meant to test us, if we can’t walk the parapet, we can’t fight on the back of our dragon.

We keep walking up towards the parapet, and I don’t allow the wind to sway my step.

Three riders wait at the entrance, one with ripped off sleeves records the name of candidates as they step out, and another who’s shaved almost his whole head instructs Dylan as he moves into position. The third one turns to look at us and Vi and I freeze.

He’s handsome, tall with windblown black hair. Muscular, and as he folds him his arms, the muscles in his chest and arms ripple. He looks inhuman.

But none of that is why I freeze. I freeze because of the eyes. The gold-flecked onyx eyes that seem to have no emotion. The ones that I had complemented again and again when I was younger. The ones I called unique. The ones I was once betrothed to.

“See you three on the other side!” Dylan calls over his shoulder with a grin, stepping onto the parapet, his arms spread for balance.

“Ready for the next one, Riorson?” the rider who was recording names says.

I was right. I strengthen my barriers so that I can barely feel Taz and hope for the best.

“You ready for this, Sorrengail, Melgren?” Rhiannon asks, moving forward.

Xaden snaps his gaze to us, turning, and Vi grips my hand. A rebellion relic shows on his left wrist before disappearing in his sleeve to reappear by his collar, where it scratches to his jawline, the largest I’ve seen.

“Oh shit,” I hear Vi whisper.

“Sorrengail? Melgren?” He steps closer and I pull Vi back so she’s standing just behind me.

He’s tall, probably over 6’4’’, but that doesn’t stop me from glaring at him.

“Violet? Lia?” Rhiannon asks, taking a step towards us, but I subtly shake my head and she comes no closer.

“You’re General Sorrengail’s youngest.” He says towards Vi, glaring. “And you,” he turns towards me. “I’ve never heard of a child of Melgren.”

“You’re Fen Riorson’s son,” Vi counters, raising her chin.

Mira’s words repeat in my mind and I make sure Vi is completely behind me. I don’t think he would throw us off, but I’m not sure.

“Your mother captured my father and oversaw his execution.” Xaden says, and the muscle in his jaw flexes.

“Your father killed my older brother. Seems like we’re even.” Vi retorts, rage obvious in her voice.

“Hardly.” His gaze evaluates us. “Your sister is a rider. Guess that explains the leathers.” “Guess so.” I can sense Vi’s glare.

He turns to me, “who are you really?” “Exactly who I said I was.” My hands clench next to my sides before finding the hilt of my dagger. I may not be able to kill him, but I sure as hell can shove him off the platform.

His eyes rake over me, “Interesting. You’re not trained like a soldier.”

“You all right?” Rhiannon asks, her gaze leaping between the three of us.

He glances at her, “You’re friends?”

“We met on the stairs,” she retorts, standing next to me, prepared to fight.

He looks down at our mismatched shoes. “Interesting.”

“Is that your favorite word or some shit,” I glare at him.

“Are you going to kill us?” Vi asks at the same time.

His gaze meets mine as the sky opens, soaking us.

A scream rips through the air, and all of us look towards the parapet, just in time to see Dylan slip.

I can feel Vi stiffen against me and I know I have to think fast. I slip my pack into Rhiannon’s hands and sprint for the parapet, ignoring Vi trying to call me back.

“Drop the pack!” I scream, trying to reach him in time.

I get there just as his hands slip and I grab onto him, hinging my hips so we don’t both go over. He drops his pack and I slide myself over the parapet on the other side, not letting go until he’s on his stomach. Then he pulls me up next to him.

“Thanks Lia, I owe you.”

I just shake my head, making sure he gets back up before making my way back to Vi and Rhiannon.

All eyes are on me, shock on all of them. I glance down, seeing the edges of my relic peeking from under my sleeve and cover it again.

Xaden glances at me, narrowing his eyes. “Your turn.”

#fourth wing #iron flame #the empyrean #fourth wing fanfic #violet x xaden x oc #xaden x oc #violet and xaden #xaden riorson #violet x oc #violet sorrengail #tairneanach #andarna #sgaeyl #dylan #rhiannon matthias

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