Chapter Text
Conscription day.
Rider. I’m going to be a rider. I will cross the parapet and make it. I will get a dragon. I will make it into the Navarrian army, and I will rise the ranks.
I can’t believe otherwise. I take in a deep breath as I finish tying my hair into a braid. Violet wanted to meet me by the stairwell today. Our last meeting before we are both officially conscripted into our respective quadrants. Violet would become a scribe, and I, a rider.
I stand up slowly, doing a once-over of myself, before looking into the mirror, and my own reflection stares back.
Aurelia Raelith. My name.
I am twenty.
I will become a rider.
I keep telling myself that.
Grey eyes, specked with blue stare back at me through the mirror, with black hair twisted low at the nape of my neck. I almost swallow at the sight of myself. Never have I looked as formidable as I do now. I deftly turn around at the sound of my room’s door opening, and the sight of my oldest friend greets me. I smile.
“Hey, Vi. Weren’t you supposed to meet me by the stairwell? I—” My voice abruptly cuts off as my gaze falls down onto her attire. Rider black, hair up in a crown braid.
“Aren’t you supposed to be a scribe?” My brows furrow as my lips purse into a frown. I rake my eyes up and down Violet. A green, dragon-scale corset serves as armor against any blows at her torso. Her leather pants are skin-tight and rough-soled boots cover her feet. Her hair, fading from brown to silver, is pulled up into a crown braid as she grips both straps of her pack tightly.
“Yes, well, my mother certainly thought otherwise. Mira tried to convince her to let me go to the scribe quadrant, but she threatened to report Mira absent from her post without leave. So I guess I have no other choice.” The sentence leaves her in a single breath, causing her to put her hands on her knees, like she’s about to retch.
I blink twice, nodding slowly.
Well, guess I’m not doing this alone after all.
I reach out and grip Violet’s shoulder, steadying her in case she decides to fall. “It’s going to be fine. You still trained for six months. Besides, you’re pretty damn quick with smaller weapons. Just don’t try to become a laughing stock in there by deciding to wield a sword, and you’ll be fine.” I comfort, though it comes out as more of a tease. Violet glares up at me.
“Please never attempt at comforting someone again.” She mutters, and I cringe.
“Yeah. Sure. I’ll try.” I chuckle weakly, making my way to the edge of my bed and grabbing my own pack. It’s quite light, considering I only have a few essentials in there. I sling it over my shoulders, and grip the straps tightly as I turn back to Violet.
“You ready to do this?” I ask.
“No. But life never waits, does it?”
I nod, and we both make our way out of my room, and towards the stairwell, and then to the parapet. And I know, one thing is for sure,
There are only two ways out of Basgiath once you cross the parapet:
Graduate.
Or die.