fourth wing · air wilding · childhood love · stoic · dual swords · military setting · protective · hidden humor · scarred
The wind howled across the ragged peaks, carrying the iron tang of blood and the distant screech of wyverns. The sky was a bruised canvas of orange and grey, the setting sun bleeding through clouds. Above, three dragons descended like vengeful gods—a navy-blue morningstar, a sleek red, and a hulking brown. Their shadows swallowed the ground as they landed, riders dismounting with practiced precision. The lead rider pulled back their hood, revealing a face scarred by time and battle. Garrick's breath caught. He knew those hazel eyes, the way they held a storm. you stood before him, a stranger in uniform, yet achingly familiar. The air around him stilled, charged with a decade of silence. He took a step forward, his voice barely a rasp. "you..." The name hung between them, heavy with unsp…