Ruthless: A Fourth Wing Fanfiction

Chapter 1

Being trained your whole life for something that will get you killed before your fiftieth birthday has its benefits. One, you have the right to be a full on badass. Second of all, since you’re gonna get killed, you have an excuse to live your best life and do whatever you want with the time you have left.
The amount of candidates that die on Conscription Day crossing the parapet makes everything easier for the rest of us. Assuming you make it past that day.

But my father has made sure that I will. Four hours of sparring and hand-to-hand combat sessions each day. One hour of reading about the History of Navarre. And three hours of fake battle scenarios. Not to mention the endless time I have spent studying the Codex.

I don’t mind the training. It’s not like I have anything else to do.
My older brother, Damon, is four years older than me. He has already graduated from Basgiath War College and is on the front lines, fighting. We rarely get to see each other, but when he does come home, he spends all of his time with me.

I snatched my rucksack from my bed, containing a few possessions. No weapons are stored there, all of my weapons are on my person. My twin axes are strapped like an x on my back, and I have a dagger strapped to each thigh.

I doubt I will need any more weapons than that. The ones I win during on-mat challenges should be enough to keep me stocked. At least, that’s what my father said. He is set on me making it across the parapet. After all, the greatest General of all time, having his daughter die on Conscription Day?

It wouldn’t be my life he would be upset about, more his image that would have been torn down with my early death.

I won’t die. I know it.

I do my hair in the mirror in my small, cozy room. Violet and I both chose not to cut our hair. Her hair is down a bit further than her chest, while mine is down to my waist. I braid both sides of my hair and twist each side into a bun that I stuff with pins. I shake my head around and around to make sure it's secure, before putting the last few pins in.

The armoured leather I’m wearing was gifted to me by Mira, Violet’s sister. Apparently, she has shrunken her dragon, Teirne’s scales and stitched them into the leather. I slip the corset on and then the black leathers over the top. I slip on my boots, riding boots gifted to me by my father. They grip a lot better than normal boots, giving me an advantage when crossing the parapet.

I march up to my father’s office. I can hear the shouts coming from General Sorrengail’s office down the hall. I’m guessing it’s to do with General Sorrengail changing what quadrant Violet will be in.

Violet was meant for the scribe quadrant, and everybody knew it. That is, until her mother decided to switch her to the rider’s quadrant, knowing fully well that practically all the candidates arriving to cross the parapet have been training for this their whole lifes. Violet, on the other hand, has only been training for six months.

I hear Violet’s sister, Mira Sorrengail, shouting. I try to ignore it and keep walking to General Melgren’s office.

I knock on the door.

“Come in.” His gruff voice resonates.

I walk in, sitting on the chair in front of his desk.

“Listen here, Cadet Melgren. You have strict orders to stay away from Sorrengail. Together, you two are a huge target for the rebellion marked children. Do not draw attention to yourself. Try to stay away from her as much as possible.” My father says.

“Surely Violet and I are stronger together,” I argue.

“Those are orders!” He bellows.

I nod my head.

“One more thing. Stay alive.” The General says.

I nod again, then shut the door behind me.

~

Waiting in line for your name to be written on the roll isn’t the most pleasant thing. Men and women who are much bigger than me are hustling me around.
I don’t like it, but it’s not like I can shove them back. My father’s words are still ringing in my ears.
Don’t draw attention to yourself.

Well, its kind of hard considering, over the yelling and talking of the other candidates in line, hat you have to shout your name just so the rollkeeper can hear you.

I step forward, the line moving along.

“Ouch!” Someone yelps.

I look up from the ground to see a woman in front of me.

“Sorry,” I mutter.

Suddenly, her face contorts from anger to worry.

“Hey, don’t be nervous. It’s just a thin bridge,” I say. I’m not the best at reassuring people.

“I can’t help but be nervous,” she sighs. “I’m Arkea. You?”

I smile. “Ruth.”

She looks me up and down, and I do the same to her. Her dirty blonde hair is cut short, just like the rest, at her shoulders, with a few braided parts popping out. She has warm, hazel eyes that are a stark contrast to my bright emerald ones. Her black outfit is similar to mine, with long sleeves and leather shoulder pads, as well as many, many throwing knifes strapped along her waist.

She whistles. “Nice fit.”

A loud roar sounds overhead, a dragon flying high above us. It’s too high to tell whether it has a rider or not.

“I cannot wait until Threshing. Dragons are so fucking cool.” Arkea clicks.

The line shifts again, and now Arkea and I are at the front.

“Arkea Helios.” Arkea says promptly. The roll keeper jots down her name.

I step forward, “Ruth Melgren.”

The roll keeper gives me a strange look.

“Melgren? As in-”

“Yes, as in General Melgren’s daughter.” I cut the roll keeper off. I catch a few people gawking at me when they hear my name. She eyes me up and down before yelling for the next person.

Arkea and I start to scale the stairs up the tower to the parapet.

“Why did they make two hundred and something stairs?” Arkea huffs.

I’ve been counting, and we were already two thirds of the way up.

“We’re almost there,” I reply, trying to maintain even breaths.

The last steps onto the parapet come into view. Arkea and I breathe heavily once we reach the top.
The wind whips across my face in a way that makes it hard to see as my eyes have to squint.

A sudden scream tears through the air. I flick my eyes to the parapet to spot a tall, stocky blonde boy fall off the edge of the slick cobblestones.
I search the line ahead of me for Violet. I spot her covering her eyes with another girl, with short, black-brown hair and smooth, chocolate brown skin. Good, she’s found someone.

I watch silently as the third year roll keeper asks Violet her name. Someone’s head whips towards her as she blurts out her last name.

He takes a step closer to her. 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. His eyes are the shade of gold-flecked onyx. He looks somewhat familiar, even though I’m sure I’ve never seen him before in my life.

I’m tempted to go and see what the fuss is, until I see his rebellion relic, swirling up his neck and jawline. I almost scream. Of course, Xaden Riorsen, the son of the leader of the rebellion. The one my father’s dragon executed first.

I see him smirk at Violet and say a few things to her, but the loud wind carries it away. All I can do is watch as Violet steps onto the parapet, her frail frame shaking from the wind, rain and cold.