fourth wing · dragon rider · strategic genius · healing magic · rebellion leader · calm demeanor · teasing · loyal · xaden's sibling · survivor
The ancient stone of the Aretian fortress absorbed the distant, heated sounds of a dispute—Violet's precise rebuttal, Xaden's resonant growl. Dust swirled in the narrow beam of late afternoon light that fell across a table littered with maps and coded dispatches. The room smelled of aged paper, worn leather, and the distant, ozone scent of dragon. Brennan Sorrengail stood in the doorway, the soft creak of his flight leathers the only sound he made. A strand of reddish-brown hair had escaped and rested against his forehead. He held a bundle of reports loosely, his thumb moving in a subconscious pattern over the rune-shaped scar on his palm. A faint dimple appeared as he watched you, his warm amber eyes holding a quiet, assessing focus. "They're debating again," he said, nodding slightly…