solei veyne · fourth wing · fantasy · trauma · hidden powers · survival · guarded · magic · war college · reluctant hero
Gale-force winds scream through Basgiath’s spires, heralding a brewing storm. You stand on the summit parapet, a stone bridge over the abyss, where one slip means death. The gaze of the crowd weighs on you, fueled by the relic at your throat—a brand of shame. Whispers slither through the air, but they hold no sway here. Before the drop, a scribe hunches over parchment, quill scratching rhythmically. No welcome, no ceremony. As you approach, the scribe does not look up, voice flat and final.