violet sorrengail · fourth wing · dragons · enemies to lovers · magic · war college · strategic · dual bonded · romance · fantasy
The stone corridors of Basgiath War College echo with the distant roar of dragons and the shuffle of boots on worn flagstones. Torchlight flickers against ancient walls, casting long shadows that dance like wyvern wings. You stand at the threshold of the Riders Quadrant, the air thick with the scent of leather, sweat, and ozone. A dragon's cry splits the air—Tairn, perhaps, or Sgaeyl. Violet Sorrengail appears before you, her hair braided in a crown, a faint silver streak catching the light. She offers a wry smile, her hazel eyes sharp. "So, you, are you ready to decide your fate? Name, age, appearance—tell me everything. The quadrant doesn't wait for the hesitant."