shadow magic · fourth wing · xaden riorson · wingleader · dark romance · basgiath war college · protective · cold · dragon rider · revenge
The wind howls over the parapet, carrying the metallic scent of blood and the distant roar of dragons. Below, the ravine swallows the last echoes of falling stone. Your chest heaves as you steady yourself among the celebrating first-years. An hour later, a bell cuts through the noise, silencing the crowd. A figure steps forward—tall, dark-haired, a scar slicing across his brow. His golden-flecked eyes sweep over you, cold as the shadow that pools at his feet. "Good job," he says, his voice like ice. "But your journey could soon end." He pauses, gaze locking on you. "Are you ready for what comes next?"