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Quiet nights at the watchtower with Xaden remind me of home.
This evening every rider is out on a training mission except the two of us and our captain, and he’s at the second lookout point, leaving us alone here. Not sure how we managed to appear trustworthy enough for that, but here we are, eating chocolate candies and scanning the skies.
Back in Aretia we’d be up on the roof of Riorson House, eating chocolate something-or-other, goofing around and admiring the stars.
It’s too cloudy to see stars here, and they’re never as bright as Tyrrendor’s, anyway.
“Don’t you think the scribes get sick of using quills?” I say blandly. Xaden raises his eyebrow at me, that scar apparent even in the low lighting. He’s used to me just spitting out whatever pops in my head. “I bet they go Venin just for the pens.”
His lip twitches, and then we both burst out laughing. It feels so fucking good to laugh. I can’t remember the last time I was able to make him laugh.
“Eyes up!” Chradh’s yell fills my mind and I startle. “A drift approaches!”
“Fuck,” Xaden mutters, getting the same message from Sgaeyl. Our eyes lock for a second, a flicker of worry in his before he locks it down and turns to sprint down the steps.
“Gryphons!” Xaden shouts to the infantry soldiers milling about, and he takes off toward the front gate. I race after him, damn he’s fast.
“Loyal one, we should fly,” Chradh sounds nervous. The dragons never like when we’re on foot. I see him and Sgaeyl approaching in the sky from the resting grounds.
“I’ve got to follow Xaden,” I reply.
“Sgaeyl agrees, you should prepare to mount.”
But we can’t get out the gate fast enough, the drift is suddenly upon us and we’re forced back inside, grounded and cut off from the dragons.
Right away I can tell that this isn’t one of our drifts. It’s a relief and also really fucking terrifying. They’re aggressive as shit, any hope of finagling some plan to get them the daggers they’re here for fades quickly as arrows rain down over us. One skims my arm, another finds its mark in the neck of the soldier beside me.
Xaden starts throwing shadows around, trying to hold them back while the infantry scrambles into assembly behind us. It works to distract them for a few minutes, but then there are gryphons right in front of us, they’ve breached the gate. Xaden and I both draw our swords and manage to injure a gryphon, but shit we’re at such a fucking disadvantage without our dragons.
I’m fighting off a flier when Xaden screams, a gut-wrenching sound filled with anger, pain, terror. Time freezes, ice chills my veins. I whip around to see a gryphon standing over Xaden, screeching, a talon embedded in Xaden’s shoulder.
“Xaden!” I shout. Blood is spraying from his arm, oh gods, it’s too much blood, it’s too much fucking blood! He drops to his knees, a dizzy expression on his face, and then collapses into the dirt.
Gravel and dirt spray up from my feet as I take off running. I’m already halfway to Xaden when Sgaeyl absolutely fucking screams. Xaden moans in agony, holding his good hand over his ear as his dragon’s ear-splitting roar vibrates through his head. My own head hurts from the noise, holy fuck, I can’t imagine how it sounds inside his.
I drop to my knees beside Xaden, my heart pounding, throat tight. I scramble to put pressure on the gash in his arm while holding out my sword toward the fliers and glaring, rage bubbling up inside me. How fucking dare they. They don’t realize this is Xaden fucking Riorson and he’s been covertly supporting them for fucking years. I’m so fucking furious I want to watch Chradh and Sgaeyl rip their gryphons to pieces and eat their fucking intestines. I should cut off their fucking balls and watch them bleed to death. I could -
“Focus on the shadow-wielder,” Chradh interrupts. “Intestines later.” I growl audibly, trying to breathe through my terror and fury.
Seeing that we’re unable to keep up our defense against them, the fliers slink off toward the towers to collect their precious daggers.
“Yeah you better run, you fuckers!” I yell after them, anger continuing to boil inside of me. Infantry soldiers are all around now, trying to hold back the gryphons.
“Save him,” Chradh nudges.
I lift my best friend into my arms, blood soaking my shirt immediately. Shit fucking damnit he’s going to bleed out and I can’t fucking stop it. Terror edges its way into my chest. Xaden is passed out and limp, he’s already lost too much blood.
“Xaden, hang on brother,” I say, holding him close. “Please. Hold on. I need you.” My voice breaks and my head pounds with fear and the tears that threaten behind my eyes.
I race down to the healers, tripping over the uneven ground, stumbling down the stairs.
It’s too much fucking blood.
I skid to a stop in the infirmary, slipping on Xaden’s blood but just able to catch myself without falling.
“Help!” I scream. I’m fucking terrified that I’m too late.
Healers usher me to a bed, I flop Xaden down onto it and they surround him, there’s so many of them, working quickly, sterilizing things, digging into his arm, stitching him together. A sick feeling roots in my stomach. I can’t lose him. I can’t lose him. What will I do without him? Panic makes me shake.
“Lieutenant Tavis, are you hurt?” a healer asks me, a hand on my shoulder.
I’m dizzy, my eyes blur, my ears ring.
I shake my head. “It’s Xaden’s blood,” I hear myself say as though far away. It feels like I’m detached from my body. I sway dizzily and the guy grips my arm, leading me to a chair.
“You’re in shock,” he tells me, checking me over quickly.
“Is he… is he going to…” I stumble. I can’t lose him. I can’t lose him. I can’t let him die. He’s the leader of the fucking revolution. I have to save him.
“I don’t know,” the healer answers. “Sit tight.” He hands me a jug of water. I try to drink but I’m shaking too hard.
“Breathe,” Chradh instructs. “You did well. It’s out of your hands. We wait.”
Riders that were out on patrol are all returning, I can hear dragons and shouting. I bend over and put my head in my hands, trying to calm down, trying to stop trembling.
I lose track of what’s happening. Chradh keeps up his calm encouragement while I re-live the attack in my mind on repeat. Laughing with Xaden, gryphon raid, too much blood, Xaden.
A hand shakes my shoulder. I look up through my fucking traitorous tears and blink to clear my vision. It’s Mira Sorrengail. Her eyes flare in alarm and she kneels beside me.
“Holy shit, Tavis. Are you okay?”
I look up and try to comprehend the scene in front of me.
Xaden’s unmoving on the bed, his face stark white against the blood that covers him. Healers move around, some trying to clean up, some monitoring Xaden with concerned looks, some talking with our commandant.
“Is he alive?” I croak. Mira looks from me to Xaden and back.
“Yes, they’ve got him stable and they’re trying to get word to a mender.”
I stare at Xaden, my hands trembling.
“Listen, Tavis, you’ve got to pull it together. Bagley is going to want to talk to you, hear what happened.” I tear my eyes away from Xaden to look at Mira. She looks concerned.
“Why are you here?” I ask hoarsely.
“My sister’s life is tied to his, remember?” Her gaze hardens.
Fucking hell, if Xaden dies so does Violet Sorrengail. The two most powerful riders on our side. We might as well just give up the fight at that point. I put my head back in my hands, feeling weak.
I can’t lose him. Not Xaden. Not my best friend. I can’t fucking lose him now.
It’s the longest fucking night of my life. I try to recount the attack with Commandant Bagley, but it’s hard for me to form coherent sentences and the healers end up shooing him away from me so I can “rest”.
They try to get me to lie down but instead I pull my chair right next to Xaden so I can watch his chest rise and fall, reassuring myself he’s still alive.
Mira comes back in the middle of the night and pulls up a chair next to me.
“I couldn’t sleep,” she admits. I glance at her and then back at Xaden. We sit in silence for a long time.
“Do you have siblings?” she asks.
“No.”
I wonder if she’s trying to figure out if Xaden means as much to me as Violet means to her.
“Xaden’s my brother,” I amend, and she nods slowly. I put my head in my hands for the hundredth time to try to hide the tears that won’t stop betraying me. “If we lose him, it’s all for nothing.”
She doesn’t get it. Our parents sacrifices, deaths, the hell we went through in foster care and at Basgiath. For what? To lose my best friend to a gryphon attack in a fucking Navarrian outpost.
The mender arrives just before dawn. She’s small and spry, with very little to say. She leaves as soon as Xaden starts to wake.
I watch as the healers tend to him while he reorients, fuss over getting him to drink water, stabilize his shoulder in a sling I know he’ll dispose of the second he gets the chance. Finally they give him some space to breathe, and I stand on wobbly legs to go to him.
“Fucking hell,” I grumble, dragging him up into a hug, avoiding his injured side. I pull him tight against me, hoping he can’t feel how much I’m trembling.
“I’m sorry,” Xaden whispers. His arm is too weak to hug me back, but his head on my shoulder is enough.
“Fucking scared the ever-loving shit out of me.” He’s quiet, breathing. I recenter myself and sync my breaths to his.
Finally I pull back and glare into his dark exhausted eyes.
“Don’t ever fucking do that to me ever again.”
Xaden just nods, and I lie him down, sitting back with a sigh as I look him over. Satisfied that I’m not going to lose him tonight, I move to an empty infirmary bed and pass out.