Chapter Text
THE FOLLOWING TEXT HAS BEEN FAITHFULLY TRANSCRIBED FROM NAVARRIAN INTO THE MODERN LANUAGE BY KIM EUNJI, CURATOR OF THE SCRIBE QUADRANT AT BASGIATH WAR COLLEGE. ALL EVENTS ARE TURE, AND NAMES HAVE BEEN PRESERVED TO HONOR THE COURAGE OF THOSE FALLEN. MAY THEIR SOULS BE COMMENDED TO MALEK.
CONSCRIPTION DAY IS ALWAYS THE DEADLIEST. maybe that's why the sunrise is especially beautiful this morning — because jimin knows it might be the last one he ever sees. he tightens the traps of his heavy canvas rucksack and trudges up the wide staircase of the stone fortress he regularly calls home. his chest heaves with exertion, his lungs practically burning by the time he reaches the stone corridors which leads down to his fathers office, general park. this is what six months of intense physical training has handed him - the ability to barely climb six flights of stairs while carrying a pack that has to weigh at least thirty-pounds. he's so fucked and he's rightfully aware of that fact.
the thousands of twenty year old's waiting outside the gates to enter their chosen quadrant for the service are the smartest and strongest in navarre. hundreds of them have been preparing for the riders quadrant, the chance to become one of the elite, since birth. jimin has had exactly six months and he's barely got anything to show for it and the though alone causes a wave of embarrassment to wash over him.
the expressionless guards lining the wide hallway at the top of the landing purposefully avoid his eyes as he passes but that's nothing new. besides, he can't really bring himself to feel bothered by it; being ignored is the best possible scenario for him right now. basgiath war college isn't known for being kind to . . . well, anyone, even those of us whose fathers are in command.
every navarrian officer, whether they choose to be schooled as healers, scribes, infantry or riders are molded within these cruel walls over a three year timeframe, honed into weapons to secure the mountainous borders from the violent invasion attempts of the kingdom of poromiel and their gryphon riders.
the weak don't survive their time here, especially not in the riders quadrant . . . the dragons make sure of that. "you're sending him to die!" a familiar voice filters through the generals thick wooden door as he approaches, causing his eyes to widen and a small gasp to escape from his plump lips. there's only one person on the continent foolish enough to raise their voice to the general and that's his older brother, eunwoo. his eyebrows furrow a little, his brother was supposed to be on the border with the eastern wing, he shouldn't be here.
there's a muffled response from the office as he reaches for the door handle. "he doesn't stand a chance," eunwoo shouts as jimin forces the heavy wooden door open and the weight of his pack shifts forward, almost sending him stumbling down onto the floor but he manages to catch himself before reaches the floor, grabbing onto the back of the crimson-upholstered couch. a curse from his father reaches his ears and he winces, his embarrassment from earlier coming back tenfold. "damn it, dad! he can't even handle his rucksack," his older brother snaps as he rushes to jimin's side. "i'm fine," his cheeks heat with mortification and he quickly forces himself upright, his older brother has been back for five minutes and is already trying to save him . . . probably for good reason but he wouldn't admit to that out loud.
he didn't want this, he doesn't want any part of the riders quadrant. he doesn't have a death wish, he would have been better off failing the admission test to basgiath and going straight to the army with the majority of conscripts but he didn't fail, he quite practically aced it so he can handle his rucksack and he will handle himself.
"jimin," worried brown eyes look down at him, strong hands bracing his shoulders. a smile tugs at the corners of his lips, one he isn't able to hold back. "hi hyung," he greets softly, wondering if the older male was here to say his goodbyes and even so, he couldn't help but feel glad at seeing his brother for the first time in years, in one piece at that. the older males eyes soften and the fingers on his shoulders flex, almost like his brother might pull him into a hug but he doesn't, instead stepping back and turning to stand at his side, levelling their father with a look. "you can't do this," eunwoo says firmly, his eyes narrowing.
a silence passes over the room and he shifts nervously, ignoring the weight of his pack that seems hellbent on trying to knock him down like a domino. "it's already done," his father replies with a shrug, the lines of his fitted black uniform rising and falling with the motion. he scoffs, unable to hold the sound back as any hope of a reprieve gets thrown out of the window. he really hadn't been expecting much though, he knew he wouldn't be getting an ounce of mercy from a man who's been made famous for the lack of it.
eunwoo makes an unimpressed noise, "undo it." he seethes, "he's spent his entire life training to become a scribe, he was never raised to be a rider." the youngers eyes flick back and forth, knowing this conversation would amount to nothing - his father wouldn't be changing his mind on this. "well," he watches as his father braces his hands on the immaculate surface of the desk and leans in slightly, pushing himself up and out of the chair he was sitting in. "he certainly isn't you, is he, lieutenant park?" he finishes as he looks both of them over with narrowed, appraising eyes that mirror the dragons' carved into the furniture's massive legs.
jimin swallows and he doesn't need the power of mind reading to know exactly what his father sees in front of him. at twenty-six years old, eunwoo's a younger version of their father. he's tall with strong, powerful muscles which are toned from years of sparring and hundreds of hours spent on the back of his dragon. his skin practically flows with health and his golden-blonde hair is sheared short for combat, in the same style as their fathers. aside from looks, he also carries the same arrogance, the unwavering conviction that he belongs in the sky without a shred of a doubt - he's a rider through and through, everything jimin isn't and with the way their father shakes his head, the younger knows he agrees as well.
the younger is too short, too frail. what curves he does have, should have long since turned to muscle but they haven't, not even a little, not even with the six months of training he had managed to achieve. his traitorous body makes him embarrassingly vulnerable, especially in a quadrant such as the riders.
he watches as his father walks towards them, his polished black boots gleaming in the mage lights that flicker from the sconces. his father eyes his hair and a low scoff leaves him and jimin has to stop himself from shrinking into himself - he doesn't have the same striking blonde hair as his brother or the dark chocolate brown his father sports. instead, the locks are a steely metallic silver and his father never fails to express a dislike for it.
"pale skin, pale eyes, pale hair." it feels like his gaze siphons every ounce of confidence from his body, down to the very marrow of his bones. "it's like that fever stole all your coloring along with your strength," grief flashes through his eyes as he speaks, his brows furrowing. "i told her not to keep you cooped up inside that library." jimin fights the urge to avert his eyes, knowing that action would be met with another lecture. it isn't the first time he's heard his father curse the sickness that almost killed his mother while she was pregnant with him or the library his mother had made his second home once their family had been stationed at basgiath, his father as an instructor and his mother as a scribe.
he blinks, "i love that library." he counters. more than a year has passed since his mothers heart finally failed and the archives are still the only place that feels like home to him in the giant fortress, the only place where he can still feel his mothers presence. "spoken like the son of a scribe," his father says quietly and the younger catches a glimpse of the man his father used to be when their mother was alive — softer, kinder . . . at least towards his family. "i am the son of a scribe," he quips back as he finally gives into the demands of his back, allowing the heavy pack to slip from his shoulders, guiding it towards the floor. he finally takes his first full breath since leaving his room, the pain ebbing away from his back just a little.
his father blinks and suddenly, the softer man is gone, leaving only the general behind. "you're the son of a rider, you are twenty years old and today is conscription day. i allowed you to finish your tutoring but like i told you last spring, i will not watch one of my children enter the scribe quadrant." his father lectures and he blanches, the speech nothing new to him. he's talking before he can even stop himself, "because scribes are so far beneath riders?" he knows perfectly well that riders are the top of the social and military hierarchy . . . their dragons help that by roasting people for fun.
the customary composure his father usually carries around with him slips, "yes. and if you even think of walking into the tunnel toward the scribe quadrant today, i will rip you out of it and personally put you on the parapet myself." jimin barely holds back a wince as his father finishes, cringing at the thought and the embarrassment that would come from such a thing. before he can say anything, his older brother beats him to it. "mother wouldn't want this," eunwoo argues, color flushing up his neck — he'd stand here all day arguing if he could.
"i love your mother but she's dead," the general replies, saying it so casually, almost like he's dishing them a weather report. "i doubt she wants much these days." the younger male sucks in a breath but keeps his mouth firmly shut, knowing arguing will get him nowhere, it won't change his fathers choice; his father has never listened to anything he's had to say before and today is definitely no different.
eunwoo throws out his arms, eyes flaring. "sending jimin into the riders quadrant is tantamount to a death sentence and we both know it." he regularly finds his older brother locked into heated arguments with his father and the most frustrating thing about it is that their father respected him for it — the double standard had never been more glaringly obvious. "he's not strong enough for it. he's already broken his arm this year, he sprains some joint every other week and he's definitely not tall enough to mount any dragon big enough to keep him alive in battle."
his fingernails bite into his palms as his hands curl into fists once his brothers words register in his head. he already knew that his chances of survival were minimal but to have his brother casually throw his inadequacies in his face was another thing entirely. "are you calling me weak?" he questions, trying to shove the feelings of hurt away. his brother reaches for his hand and squeezes, "no. you're just . . . fragile." that isn't any better but he keeps his mouth firmly shut. dragons don't bond with fragile people, they incinerate them instead.
the general scans him up and down, taking note of the generous fit of the cream belted tunic and pants he had selected this morning for his potential execution. "so he's small," the younger male has to hold back a scoff at that, were they just choosing to list his faults now? "i never said it was a fault," his father speaks as he turns to level a look at eunwoo. "jimin deals with more pain before lunch than you do in an entire week. if any of my children is capable of surviving the riders quadrant, it's him." jimin's eyebrows rise as his fathers words sounded an awful lot like a compliment but he could never be too sure when it came to the general.
"how many rider candidates die on conscription day? forty? fifty? are you that eager to bury another child?" the temperature in the room suddenly takes a dive and he shivers, knowing it was the courtesy of the generals storm-wielding signet power in which he channels directly through his dragon, idreos. the youngers chest tightens at the memory of his brother, no one has dared to mention yejun or his dragon in the five years since they both died fighting the tyrrish rebellion in the south. the general might simply only tolerate him and respects eunwoo but he loved yejun, as did their mother - her chest pains had started right after yejun's death and he always thought she had died of a broken heart at losing her first child.
jimin watches as their fathers jaw tightens and his eyes threaten retribution as he glares at his second oldest son and eunwoo swallows but doesn't back down, choosing to hold his own in the staring competition. "dad," the younger of the two starts, "he didn't mean—" his words die in his throat and he swallows, the generals voice raising above his. "get out lieutenant," the words are soft puffs of steam in the frigid office, "before i report you absent from your unit without proper leave." eunwoo immediately straightens his posture and nods stiffly, pivoting with military precision as he strides towards the door without uttering another word, grabbing a small rucksack before leaving the office entirely.
for the time time in months, the younger is alone with his father. their eyes meet and the temperature finally rises to what it was before as his father takes a deep breath, no doubt reigning the power back. "you scored in the top quarter for speed and agility during the entrance exam. you'll do just fine, everyone in this family does just fine." his father skims the backs of his fingers down the youngers cheek, just barely grazing the skin. "so much like your mother . . ." the general utters before clearing his throat and backing up a few steps; guess there are no meritorious service awards for emotional availability.
"i won't be able to acknowledge you for the next three years," his father says, sitting back on the edge of the desk. "since, as commanding general of basgiath, i'll be your far superior officer." jimin nods but it's the least of his concerns considering the general barely acknowledges him now, being in the riders quadrant wouldn't make any changes to their relationship. "you won't get any special treatment just because you're my son, either. if anything, they'll come after you harder to make you prove yourself." the older male arches an eyebrow and he nods again, already aware of this.
suddenly, he was glad that he had spent the last several months training ever since his father made his decree. of course, he would have rather spent those months back in the archives reading but alas, once the general had made a decision on something, there was no point trying to go against it.
his father sighs and forces a smile, "then i guess i'll see you in the valley at threshing, candidate. though you'll be a cadet by sunset, i suppose." or dead but he keeps his mouth firmly shut, not wanting to press any buttons that definitely never needed to be pressed.
"good luck, candidate park." his father moves back behind the desk, effectively ending the conversation while also simultaneously dismissing him. "thank you, general." he speaks softly and grabs his pack, hefting it back onto his shoulders before he walks out of the office and a guard closes the door behind him. "he's batshit crazy," eunwoo speaks and he startles, his eyes falling onto his older brother who is stood in the center of the hallway, right between where two guards are positioned.
he shakes his head and heaves out a sigh, "they'll tell him you said that." he says, knowing the guards definitely wouldn't keep that to themselves. "like they don't already know," the older grinds out through clenched teeth before shaking his head, "let's go. we only have an hour before all candidates have to report, and i saw thousands waiting outside the gates when i flew over." the older male turns as he speaks, starting to walk down the hallway and jimin is quick to follow, slowly walking down the stone staircase and through the hallways that lead to his room. well . . . it was his room before he left for his fathers office.
in the thirty or so minutes that he had been gone, all of his personal items have been packed into crates that now sit neatly stacked in the corner. he gawks at the sight as his stomach plummets to the hardwood floor, his father had his entire life boxed away. "he's fucking efficient, i'll give you that." the older male mutters before he turns, his gaze passing over his younger brother in open assessment.
"i was hoping i'd be able to talk him out of it, you were never meant for the riders quadrant." jimin sighs and crosses his arms, ignoring how his rucksack almost has him toppling over with the action. "so you've mentioned," he pauses and raises an eyebrow at his brother, "repeatedly." he may have been trained for a completely different quadrant but he was getting really tired of people pointing that out and acting like he wasn't capable of being placed in another quadrant.
his brother winces, "sorry." the older male shrugs off his pack and drops to the ground, opening the small flap and preceding to empty the contents. he watches his brother in confusion, unsure as to what was happening. "what are you doing?" he finds himself asking, eyeing the things the male was removing from the pack. "what yejun did for me," the reply has grief lodging in his throat and he thickly swallows, trying to dislodge it.
a beat of silence passes before the older male breaks through it, "can you use a sword?" jimin thinks for a moment before shaking his head, remembering how badly he had struggled to even swing a sword during the six months of training. "no, it's too heavy. i'm pretty quick with daggers though," what he lacked in strength was easily made up for with speed. his older brother nods, a thoughtful looking crossing over his features. "i figured as much. alright, drop your pack and take off those horrible boots." the male orders, sorting through the items he had removed from the pack, sliding the younger new boots and a sleek black uniform. "put these on."
the youngers eyebrows furrow, "what's wrong with my pack?" he drops the rucksack anyway, grateful to have the weight lifted off his back. his brother doesn't answer as he yanks the pack forward and rips it open, immediately dumping out everything that had been carefully packed in there the previous night. jimin gawks at his brothers actions, completely floored. "hyung! that took me all night to pack," he wasn't lying either.
he had spent most of the night debating on what to pack, what books he wanted to bring into the riders quadrant with him. the older male shakes his head, "you're carrying way too much and your boots are a death trap. you'll slip right off the parapet with those smooth soles, i had a set of rubber-bottomed rider boots made for you just incase and this, my dear brother, is the worst case."
books start flying, landing in the vicinity of the stacked crates. "i'm allowed to take what i can carry and i want those!" the younger male whines and quickly lunges for the next book before his brother has the chance to toss it, barely managing to save his favorite collection of dark fables.
"are you willing to die for it?" eunwoo sighs out, eyes turning hard. "i can carry it," the younger is quick to quip back, unable to shake how this entire thing feels so wrong. he's supposed to be dedicating his life to books, not throwing them in the corner of his room to lighten his rucksack. the thought has him cringing, his grip on the book tightening just a little.
"no, you can't. you're barely thrice the weight of the pack and the parapet is roughly eighteen inches wide, two hundred feet aboveground." the older male pauses, "and last time i checked, those were rain clouds moving in. they're not going to give you a rain delay just because the bridge might get a little slick, jimin. you'll fall and you'll die," there's nothing pause, his brother wetting his lips. "now, are you going to listen to me? or are you going to join the other dead candidates at tomorrows morning roll call?"
there's no trace of his older brother in the rider before him. this man is shrewd, cunning and a touch cruel. this is the man who survived all three years with only one scar, the one his own dragon gave him during threshing. "because that is all you'll be. another tombstone, another name scorched in stone. ditch the books, jimin." the younger of the two frowns a little, pressing the book against his chest. "mom gave this one to me," he explains and maybe it's childish, maybe it's just a collection of stories that warn us against the lure of magic and even demonize dragons, but it's all he has left.
eunwoo gives him a knowing look. "is it that old book of folklore about dark-wielding vermin and their wyvern? haven't you read it a thousand times already?" he feels his cheeks heat at that, "probably more." he admits quietly, "and they're venin, not vermin." he corrects, having memorized the entire story. his older brother laughs, shaking his head. "mom and her allegories," the male utters, "just don't try to channel power without being a bonded rider and red-eyed monsters won't hide under your bed, waiting to snatch you away on their two-legged dragons to join their dark army." he retrieves the last book that was packed from the rucksack and hands it to the younger, "ditch the books, jimin." the older repeats, "mom can't save you. she tried, i tried. decide, little brother. are you going to die a scribe? or live as a rider?"
jimin glances down at the books clutched in his hands and makes his choice, "you're a pain in the ass." he mutters as he turns, putting the fables in the corner but keeping the other one firmly in his hands as he turns back around, facing his brother. "a pain in the ass who is going to keep you alive. what's that one for?" the older questions, nodding towards the book. "killing people," he answers simply and hands the book back to him, knowing he would probably have to kill someone at some point during his time in the quadrant — no one leaves the riders quadrant without blood on their hands. "you can keep that one. now, get changed while i sort through the rest of this mess."
the bell rings high above them signaling that they only have forty-five minutes left before conscription day fully commences. he dresses quickly but he can't help but feel like the clothes belong to someone else even though they were obviously tailored to his exact size. his tunic is replaced by a tight fitting black shirt that covers his arms and his breezy pants are exchanged for leather ones that hug and cling to every curve. eunwoo then laces him into a vest-style corset which sits snugly over the shirt, "it'll keep it from rubbing." the male explains, almost like he can feel the youngers confusion.
"this is just like the gear riders wear into battle," jimin notes and he has to admit, the clothes are pretty badass, even if he feels like an imposter wearing them. he feels like a child again, messing around with his fathers uniforms which were always way too big on him whenever he decided to model them, much to his parents and siblings amusement. "because that's what you're doing, going into battle."
the combination of leather and a fabric he doesn't recognize covers him from the collarbone to just below his waist, wrapping over his chest and crossing up and over his shoulders. his fingers are quick to find the hidden sheaths that are sewn diagonally along the rib cage and he looks at his brother in a silent question. "they're for your daggers," the older male supplies an answer and his lips part, "i only have four. that's not enough to fill each sheath." he speaks as he bends down, picking the four daggers from the floor, sliding them into the sheaths as though his ribs themselves have become weapons.
"you'll earn more," his brother mutters but the younger is too busy admiring the design of what the older male has placed him in. the design is ingenious, between his ribs and the sheaths at his thighs, the blades are all easily accessible. he barely recognizes himself in the mirror as he gawks at his reflection . . . he looks like a rider but he still feels like a scribe.
minutes later, half of what he had packed is piled onto the crates. eunwoo made quick work of repacking the rucksack, discarding anything deemed unnecessary and almost everything sentimental all while word-vomiting advice about how to survive in the quadrant. then the older male surprises him by doing the most sentimental thing ever — telling him to sit between the males legs so he can trim his hair to make sure it keeps out of his eyes. it's almost like the younger is a child again instead of a full grown man but he complies anyway.
jimin sits settles between his brothers legs, "what's this?" he questions as he tests the material just above his heart, scratching at it with his fingernail. "something i designed," eunwoo explains, tugging at his hair as he starts cutting, only sniping off small portions of the silver locks. "i had it specially made for you with xaman's scales sewn in so be careful with it," his eyes widen at the older males words, "dragon scales?" he jerks his head and looks at his brother, narrowly avoiding the scissors. "how? isn't xaman like, huge?" he hadn't seen the older males dragon much but he remembers the first time he had, he had almost passed out the second his eyes landed on the huge beast.
a small devious smile splays across eunwoo's lips, "i happen to know a rider whose powers can make big things very well," the males smiles widens as he continues, "and smaller things . . . much, much bigger." the younger's face scrunches up in disgust as he rolls his eyes, his brother has always been vocal about his taste in people. there's been many things he's heard that he very much wishes he hadn't, much to the amusement of the older male. "how much bigger?" he can't stop himself from asking and his brother laughs, choosing not to answer as he pushes jimin's head forward with his empty hand. "we need to finish this before we have to leave," the male utters, continuing to snip away. "you need to keep it short and out of your eyes, it's a liability in sparring and in battle. not to mention it makes you an even bigger walking target, no one else has hair that's silver like this."
"you know very well that any natural pigment seems to gradually abandon it," jimin sighs out, he was simply stuck with the color his hair currently was, there was no fixing it. his eyes were just as indecisive, a light hazel of varying blues and ambers that never seemed to favor either actual color. "besides, other than everyone else's concern for the shade, my hair is the only thing about me that's perfectly healthy. doing anything besides cutting it would feel like i'm punishing my body for finally doing something well, and it's not like i feel the need to hide who i am." it would be impossible to hide his true identity, his hair would be the dead give away even if he did ever decide to adopt a new name. his father also wouldn't approve of him choosing to hide behind a different name and he'd rather avoid as many lectures as possible.
"you're not," eunwoo yanks his head back and their eyes lock, "you're the smartest person i know, don't forget that. your brain is your best weapon and you need to use it. outsmart them, jimin. do you hear me?" the younger nods and the older male gently pushes his head forward again, quickly finishing cutting the last section before he's pulling the younger to his feet as he continues to summarize years of knowledge into fifteen harried minutes.
"be observant. quiet is fine, but make sure you notice everything and everyone around you to your advantage. you've read the codex?" jimin nods at the question, he made sure to read it a few times so he could memorize everything. the rule book for the riders quadrant is a fraction of the length the other divisions have and he assumes it's because riders have trouble obeying the rules set out for them.
his brother is silent for a moment before nodding his head, "good. then you know that the other riders can kill you at any time, and the cutthroat cadets will try because fewer cadets means better odds at threshing." the male pauses, grabbing his own pack. "there are never enough dragons willing to bond, and anyone reckless enough to get themselves killed isn't worthy of a dragon anyway." jimin knew this, even if you survived until threshing, there was no guarantee that you would bond with a dragon.
"except when sleeping. it's an executable offense to attack any cadet while they're sleeping, it says so on article three—" the older male interrupts before he can finish, "yes, but that doesn't mean you're safe at night. try and sleep in this if you can," eunwoo reaches out and taps the youngers stomach of the corset. the young male glances down, eyeing his newfound outfit again.
"rider black is supposed to be earned. are you sure i shouldn't wear my tunic today?" as he speaks, his hands skims over the leather, feeling at the material. "the wind up on the parapet will catch any spare cloth like a sail," his brother starts explaining, handing him his own much lighter pack before continuing. "the tighter your clothes, the better off you are up there and in the ring once you start sparring. wear the armor at all times and keep your daggers on you at all times." he gestures towards the sheaths he has going down his own thighs.
jimin looks at the sheaths for a moment, eyeing the daggers safely tucked away in them. "someone's going to say i didn't earn them." you earn a lot going into the riders quadrant, including weapons. "you're park jimin," the older male answers, almost like that answer is enough, "fuck what they say." he shakes his head at his older brother, voicing yet another concern. "you don't think the dragon scales are cheating?" he doubts anyone else is going to have armor filled with dragon scales. "there's no such thing as cheating once you climb the turret. there's only survival and death."
before anymore words can be spoken, the bell chimes — only thirty minutes left. his stomach dips, nervous energy immediately taking hold of him. "it's almost time. ready?" eunwoo questions, the older male looking equally as nervous, like he was about to walk the parapet too.
jimin is silent for a moment before he shakes his head, "no." he admits truthfully, he wasn't ready to risk his life to reach a quadrant he never wanted to be apart of. a wry smile lifts across the corner of his brothers mouth, "neither was i." the older male pauses, shifting. "and i'd spent my entire life training for it." the males words don't make him feel any better but he appreciates the effort of them.
"i'm not going to die today," he slings the pack over his shoulders and he realizes he can breathe a little easier than this morning, the pack is infinitely more manageable.
—
the halls of the central, administrative part of the fortress are eerily quiet as they both wind their way down through various staircases while the noise from outside grows louder the lower they descend. through the windows, he spots thousands of candidates hugging their loved ones and saying their goodbyes on the grassy fields just beneath the main gate. from what he's witnessed every year, most families hold on to their candidates right up to the very last bell. he notices that the four roads leading to the fortress are clogged with horses and wagons, especially where they converge in front of the college.
however, it's the empty ones at the edge of the fields that make him nauseous. they're for the bodies.
just before they round the last corner that will lead to the courtyard, eunwoo suddenly stops and he has to stop himself before he rams into the older males back. "hyung, what is—oof." he's suddenly cut off as his brother swirls around and yanks him forward, hugging him tight in the relative privacy of the corridor. "i love you, jimin. remember everything i've told you, don't become another name on the death roll." the males voice shakes and the younger frowns, wrapping his arms around his brother, squeezing tight. "i'll be alright," he promises and the male nods, the action causing his chin to bump against the top of jimin's head. "i know, let's go."
that's all his brother says before pulling away and walking into the crowded courtyard just inside the main gate to the fortress. instructors, commanders, and even their father are gathered informally, waiting for the madness outside the walls to become the order within. out of all the doors in the war college, the main gate is the only one no cadet will enter today since each quadrant has it's own entrance and facilities. the riders even have their own citadel like the pretentious, egotistical fucks they are.
jimin quickly follows after his brother, catching up with a few quick strides. "find hansol vernon chwe," the older male suddenly says as they both cross through the courtyard, heading for the open gate. "vernon?" jimin can't help but smile at the thought of seeing vernon again and his heart rate quickly starts jumping. it's been a year and he's missed his friends soft brown eyes and the way the male would laugh, the way every part of vernon's body would join in. he's missed their friendship and the moments where he thought it might turn into more under the right circumstances. he's missed the way vernon would look at him, like he was someone worth noticing.
"i've only been out of the quadrant for three years but from what i hear, he's doing well and he'll keep you safe." eunwoo explains before narrowing his eyes, "and don't smile like that." the younger males smile quickly falls away as his brother chides him, "he'll be a second year and you don't mess around with second years." the older male pauses, skirting around a guard. "if you want to get laid, and you should"— the male lifts a brow — "often, considering you never know what the day brings, then screw around in your own year. nothing is worse than cadets gossiping that you've slept your way to safety."
jimin pulls a face but he can't help but grin, "so i'm free to take any of the first years i want to bed. just not the second or third years." his brother laughs and shoots him a wink, "exactly." he doubts he's going to be too focused on who to take to bed considering once he's in the riders quadrant, his survival will be his top focus. he will not die in there.
they cross through the gates, leaving the fortress behind as they join the organized chaos beyond. each of navarre's six provinces has sent this years share of candidates for military service. some of them volunteer, some of them are sentenced as punishment while most are conscripted. the only thing they have in common at basgiath is that they passed the entrance exam — both written and an agility test he still can't really believed he passed — which means they won't end up as fodder for the infantry on the front line.
the atmosphere is tense with anticipation and eunwoo leads him down the worn cobblestone path toward the southern turret. the main college is built into the side of basgiath mountain, as if it was cleaved from a ridgeline of the peak itself. the sprawling, formidable structure towers over the crowd of anxious, waiting candidates and their tearful families, with it's stories tall stone battlements — built to protect the high rise of the keep within — and defensive turrets at each of its corners, one of which houses the bells.
the majority of the crowd moves to line up at the base of the northern turret — the entrance to the infantry quadrant. some of the mass heads towards the gate behind him — the healer quadrant that consumes the southern end of the college. he can't help the feeling of envy that clenches his chest when he spots a few taking the central tunnel into the archives below the fortress to join the scribe quadrant. the entrance to the riders quadrant is nothing more than a fortified door at the base of the tower, just like the infantry entrance to the north but while the infantry candidates can walk straight into their ground level quadrant, all rider candidates will need to climb.
jimin and his brother join the riders' line, waiting to sign in and he makes the mistake of glancing upwards. high above, crossing the river-bottomed valley that divides the main college from the even higher, looming citadel of the riders quadrant on the southern ridgeline is the parapet, the stone bridge that's about to separate rider candidates from the cadets over the next few hours. he shivers, his stomach flipping . . . he was minutes away from climbing it. "and to think i've been preparing for the scribes written exam all these years," his voice drips with sarcasm, "while i should have been playing on a balance beam."
his brother ignores him as the line starts moving forward and candidates start disappearing through the door. "don't let the wind sway your steps," the older male mutters and before he can reply, a woman's cry breaches his ears as her partner all but rips her away from a young man before the couple break from the line, both retreating in tears as they walk down the hillside toward the crowd of loved ones lining the roads. he swallows, noticing there are no other parents ahead of them, only a few dozen candidates moving toward the roll-keepers. "keep your eyes on the stones ahead of you and don't look down," eunwoo continues, the lines of his face tightening. "arms out for balance. if the pack starts slipping, drop it. better it falls than you."
jimin looks behind himself where it seems hundreds have filed in within the span of minutes, "maybe i should let them go first." he whispers as panic clutches at his body, the reality of everything sinking in again. what the hell was he doing? "no," eunwoo answers, "the longer you wait on those steps" — he motions toward the tower — "the greater your fear has a chance to grow. cross the parapet before the terror owns you." the line moves and the bell chimes again, it's eight o'clock.
the younger looks around and the crowd of thousands behind him has separated fully into their chosen quadrants, all lined up to sign the roll and begin their service. "focus," the older male snaps and he whips his head forward, eyes wide. "this might sound harsh but don't seek friendships in there, jimin. forge alliances who whoever you can." there are only two ahead of him now — a man with a full pack, whose high cheekbones and sharp face remind him of amari, the king of gods. his dark brown hair is slicked back and it's just long enough that it touches the base of his neck, standing out against his tanned skin. the second is a muscular blond man who had the woman crying over him, he's carrying an even bigger rucksack.
jimin looks around the pair and towards the roll-keeping desk, his eyes immediately widening at what he sees. "is he?" he whispers out quietly, almost like he's scared of anything else hearing him. eunwoo glances in the same direction and curses, "a separatists kid? yeah. see that shimmering mark that starts on the top of his wrist? it's a relic from the rebellion." the youngers eyebrows lift, surprise etched onto his face. the only relics he's ever heard of are when a dragon uses their magic to mark the skin of their bonded rider, connecting them together. those relics are a symbol of honor and power, usually in the shape of the dragon who gifted them. these marks are swirls and slashes and they feel more like a warning than a claiming.
he swallows and forces his eyes away, "a dragon did that?" he questions his older brother, wondering how anyone could survive that; it must have been painful. his brother nods, looking grim. "father says general ki-yong's dragon did it to all of them when he executed their parents but he wasn't exactly open to further discussion on the topic. nothing like punishing the children to deter more parents from committing treason."
it seems . . . cruel but the first rule of living at basgiath is never question a dragon, they tend to cremate anyone they find rude. "most of the marked children who carry rebellion relics are from tyrrendor, of course, but they are a few whose parents turned traitor from the other provinces—" the older males words suddenly die off as the color drains from his face, gripping the straps of the youngers pack as he forces their eyes to meet. "i just remembered something," eunwoo's voice drops and the younger leans in, heart leaping with the urgency in his brothers tone. "stay the hell away from jeon jungkook."
the air rushes from his lungs; that name . . . "that jeon jungkook," the older male confirms, fear lacing his gaze and tone. "he's a third year and he will kill you the second he finds out who you are." a shiver goes down his spine because he doesn't doubt the words spoken to him, he knows his brother is right. "his father was the great betrayer, he led the rebellion." he says quietly, nodding to himself, even though the movement is jerky. "what is jungkook doing here?" his eyebrows furrow, wracking his brain for some kind of answer. "all the children of the leaders were conscripted as punishment for the crimes of their parents," eunwoo informs as they shuffle sideways, moving along with the line.
"father told me they never expected jeon to make it past the parapet. then they figured a cadet would kill him, but once his dragon chose him . . ." the older shakes his head, "there's nothing much that could be done then. he's risen to the rank of wingleader." jimin feels a wave of anger wash over him, "that's bullshit." he seethes, face twisting. "he's sworn allegiance to navarre but i don't think that will stop him where you're concerned. once you get across the parapet—because you will make it across—find vernon. he'll put you in his squad, and we'll just hope its far from jeon." the older males grips on the straps tighten, "stay away from him."
"noted," jimin nods, he could definitely stay away from someone who would rather see him mauled by a dragon. "next," a voice calls from behind the wooden table that bears the rolls of the riders quadrant. the marked rider he doesn't know is seated next to a scribe he does know, captain bumsoo's silver eyebrows rise over his weathered face. "park jimin?" the younger nods, picking up the quill and signing his name on the next empty line on the roll. "but i thought you were meant for the scribe quadrant," captain bumsoo says softly. envy spikes through him at the captains cream-colored tunic, unable to find any words.
"general park chose otherwise," eunwoo speaks for him instead and for the first time, he's thankful for that. "pity, you had so much promise." were the captains last words before the rider next to him gasps, leaning forward in his place. "by the gods, you're park eunwoo?" the riders jaw drops and the younger can practically smell his hero worship from where he stands. "i am," the older male nods, "this is my brother. he'll be a first year." he has to stop himself from stomping on his brothers foot for bringing even more attention onto him. "if he even survives parapet," someone snickers behind him, "the wind will probably just blow him right off." he has to stop himself from spinning around, choosing to block out the snickers instead.
the rider behind the desk completely ignores the introduction, attention focused solely on the older male. "you fought at strythmore," the riders words leak with awe and the younger can't be too surprised, his older brother had gained quite the reputation. "they gave you the order of the talon for taking out that battery behind enemy lines." the snickering ceases almost instantly and his lips twitch, a small smile appearing on them. "as i was saying," his brother speaks again, placing a hand on the small of his back. "this is my brother, jimin."
"you know the way," captain bumsoo nods and points towards the open door that leads into the turret. it looks ominously dark in there and jimin fights the urge to turn on his heels and run like hell. "i know the way," eunwoo assures the captain before leading jimin past the table, allowing the snickering asshole behind them to sign the roll. pausing at the doorway, the older male turns, offering a small smile. "don't die, jimin. i'd hate to be an only child," with that being said, the older male turns on his heel and walks away, sauntering past the line of gawking candidates as word quickly spreads of who exactly he is and what he's done.
jimin sighs and shifts on his feet, suddenly feeling out of place now that his brother isn't by his side. "tough to live up to that," the male ahead of him says from just inside the tower and he startles a little, he hadn't expected anyone to speak to him. "it is," he mutters as he grips the straps of the rucksack, heading into the darkness. his eyes are quick to adjust to the dim light coming in through the equidistant windows carved along the curved staircase. "park as in?" the male speaks up again, looking over his shoulder as they begin to climb the hundreds of stairs that could very well lead to their possible deaths.
"yeah," there's no railing so he keeps his hand firmly on the stone wall as climbs higher and higher, his heart threatening to stop beating at each step he takes. "the general?" it's the blond guy that speaks up this time, entering the conversation with ease. he doesn't startle this time, simply nodding his head as he musters up a small smile, "the same one."
silence wraps around them and jimin focuses on the stairs, ignoring the slight burn that was starting to form within his thighs. it wouldn't be long until he was at the top where he would come face to face with the parapet, another matter entirely. "i wonder how many candidates have fallen off the edge of the steps and died before they could even reach the parapet," the brown haired male asks, glancing down the center of the staircase but doesn't risk holding up the line by stopping the climb upwards.
"two last year," his reply is almost instant and he tilts his head back when the male glances back, their eyes meeting for a moment. "well, three if you count the girl one of the guys landed on." the males brown eyes flare wide but he quickly looks away, focusing on the stairs instead. "how many steps are there?" he asks after a moment of silence passes and jimin shakes his head, lips twitching. "two hundred and fifty." he doesn't even need to think about the answer, he had long since memorized the number.
no more questions are asked as they continue to climb and he doesn't dare to remove his hand off the stone wall, not wanting to risk falling and taking those behind him with him. "not too bad," the brown haired male says, a bright boxy smile taking over his face as they near the stop of the stairs, the line coming to a quick halt. "i'm kim taehyung, by the way." the male introduces himself before the blond male enters the conversation, "minho." he introduces himself with an enthusiastic wave.
the young male thinks for a moment before his lips are parting, "jimin." he gives both males a tense smile of his own, blatantly ignoring his brothers earlier suggestion that he should avoid friendships and only forge alliances. "i feel like i've been waiting my entire life for this day," minho utters, shifting his pack on his back. "can you believe we actually get to do this? it's a dream come true." jimin barely has time to hold back a wince, he's the only candidate that isn't excited to be here. this is the only quadrant at basgiath that doesn't accept conscripts — they only accept volunteers.
"i can't fucking wait," taehyung's smiles widens. "i mean, who wouldn't want to ride a dragon?" he stops another wince from appearing on his face because while it does sound fun in theory, the odds of surviving until graduation sours his stomach. "do your parents approve?" minho asks, "because my parents have been begging me to change my mind for months. i keep telling them that i'll have better chances for advancement as a rider but they both wanted me to enter the healer quadrant." the blond hair male explains and he nods, listening intently.
"mine always knew that i wanted this so they've been pretty supportive," taehyung answers, the attention shifting to him. "besides, they have my sister to dote on. karina's already living her dream life, married and expecting a baby." he glances back at the younger, smile still in place. "what about you? let me guess, with a name like yours, i bet you were the first to volunteer this year."
jimin laughs under his breath, "i was more like volun-told." his answer is far less enthusiastic than the two males had been. the male nods, giving him a look that almost looks like one of sympathy which he chooses to ignore. "and riders do get way better perks than other officers," he says to minho as the line moves upwards again. the snickering candidate from earlier finally catches up, sweating and bright red; look who isn't snickering now. "better pay, more leniency with the uniform policy." he continues, paying no mind to the person behind him. no one cares about what the riders wear as long as it's black, the only rules that apply to the riders are the ones he's already memorized from the codex.
"and the right to call yourself a supreme badass," taehyung adds and he laughs, nodding his head in agreement, unable to stop himself. "pretty sure they issue you an ego with your flight leathers," he mutters, which earns him a small laugh from the brown haired male. "i've heard the riders are allowed to marry sooner than the other quadrants," minho adds and he nods again, "right after graduation." if they even survive to see graduation. "i think it has something to do with wanting to continue bloodlines," he adds as an afterthought, the most successful riders tended to be legacies.
"or maybe its because we tend to die sooner than the other quadrants," taehyung muses and the blond male scoffs, shaking his head. "i'm not dying." the words drip with confidence as minho tugs a necklace from underneath his tunic, revealing a ring dangling from the chain. "she said it would be bad luck to propose before i left, so we're waiting until graduation." he kisses the ring and then tucks the chain back underneath his collar. "the next three years are going to be long ones but they'll be worth it." jimin keeps his sigh to himself though he can't help but think that might have been the most romantic thing he's ever heard someone say.
"you might make it across the parapet," a voice sneers from behind and he tenses, muscles locking into place. "this one here is a breeze away from the bottom of the ravine." the voice continues and taehyung is quick to intervene, "shup up and focus on yourself." the male snaps back, feet clicking against the stone as they climb.
the top soon comes into sight, the doorway full of muddled light. jimin can't help but think that his older brother was right; those clouds are going to wreak havoc once they open up, they all need to be on the other side of the parapet before they do otherwise the causalities may just reach an all time high. his eyes flicker down as he walks, catching onto taehyung's feet.
"let me see your boots," he keeps his voice low so the person behind them can't overhear their conversation. the male's brow puckers and confusion fills his brown eyes but he lifts his feet anyway, showing the soles of the boots. the youngers stomach sinks; they're smooth, just like the ones he was wearing earlier before his brother ordered him to take them off.
the line starts moving again, pausing a few feet away from the opening. "what size are your feet?" he asks, an idea quickly starting to form inside his head. "what?" taehyung questions, blinking in obvious confusion. "your feet. what size are they?" he asks again, a little more urgency slipping into his words. "eight," the brown haired male finally answers, two lines forming between his brows.
"i'm a seven," jimin says quickly, "it'll hurt like hell but i want you to take my left boot. trade with me." he has a dagger stored away in the right one, leaving only the left available. "i'm sorry?" the brown haired male looks at him like he's suddenly lost his mind and maybe he has; his brother would definitely think so. "these are rider boots, they'll be able to grip the stone better. your toes will be scrunched and generally miserable but at least you'll have a shot at not falling off if that rain hits."
taehyung glances toward the open door—and the darkening sky—then back to the younger. "you're willing to trade a boot?" he doesn't think twice before nodding his head, "just until we get on the other side." as he speaks, he looks through the open door, noticing that three candidates are already walking across the parapet, their arms stretched out wide for balance, a stance he'll soon be copying. "we have to be quick, it's almost our turn." taehyung purses his lips in debate for a second before nodding in agreement and they both quickly swap left boots.
a rush of relief washes through jimin; he may have just given the browned haired male more of a fighting chance of survival. he barely finishes lacing up before the line suddenly moves again and the person behind him shoves at his lower back, sending him staggering onto the platform and into the open air. "let's go. some of us have things to do on the other side," the voice grates on his last nerve, replacing the relief with pure annoyance. "you are so not worth the effort right now," he mutters, regaining his balance as the wind whips at his skin, the midsummer morning thick with humidity.
the top of the turret is bare, the crenelations of stone rising and falling along the circular structure at the height of his chest and doing nothing to obscure the view. the ravine and its river below suddenly feel very, very far. how many wagons do they have waiting down there? five? six? he knows the stats. the parapet claims roughly fifteen percent of rider candidates. every trial in the quadrant—including this one—is designed to test a cadets ability to ride. if someone can't manage to walk the windy length of the stone bridge, then they sure as hell can't keep their balance and fight on the back of a dragon. and as for the death rate? he assumes every other rider thinks the risk is worth the glory—or has the arrogance to think they won't fall. he isn't in either camp.
nausea grips at his stomach in a tight grip and he breathes in through his nose and then out through his mouth as he walks the edge behind taehyung and minho, his fingers skimming the stonework as all three males wind their way toward the parapet. three riders wait at the entrance which is nothing more than a gaping hole in the wall of the turret. one with ripped off sleeves records names as candidates step out onto the treacherous crossing and another, who's shaved all his hair with the exception of a strip down the top center, instructs minho as the male moves into position, patting his chest like the ring hidden there will bring him luck.
the third turns in jimin's direction and his heart simply . . . stops. the rider is tall with windblown black hair and dark brows. the line of his jaw is strong and covered by warm honied skin and dark stubble, and when he folds his arms across his torso, the muscles in his chest and arms ripple, moving in a way that makes the younger swallow. and his eyes . . . his eyes are the shade of gold-flecked onyx. the contrast is startling, jaw-dropping even — everything about the rider is.
his features are so harsh that they look carved and yet they're astonishingly perfect, like an artist worked a lifetime sculpting him and at least a year of that was spent on his mouth. he's the most exquisite man that jimin has ever seen and living in the war college means that he's seen quite a lot of men. even the diagonal scar that bisects the riders left eyebrow and marks the top corner of his cheek only serves to make him hotter; flaming hot, scorching hot, gets-you-in-trouble-and-you-like-it level of hot.
suddenly, jimin can't remember exactly why his older brother told him to not fuck around outside his year group. "see you two on the other side!" minho calls out over his shoulder with an excited grin before stepping onto the parapet, arms spread wide for balance. "ready for the next one, jeon?" the rider with the ripped sleeves asks. jeon jungkook? "you ready for this, park?" taehyung asks, starting to move forward.
the black haired rider snaps his gaze to jimin's, turning fully toward him and his heart thunders for all the wrong reasons. a rebellion relic, curving in dips and swirls, starts at the males bare left wrist before disappearing underneath his black uniform just to appear again at his collar, where it stretches and swirls up his neck, stopping at his jawline. "oh shit," jimin whispers and the riders eyes narrow, almost like the male can hear him over the howl of wind that rips towards them.
"park?" jungkook steps toward him and he looks up . . . and up. he swallows as he realizes he doesn't even reach the males collarbone. the male is massive, he has to be more than four inches over six feet tall. suddenly, jimin feels exactly like what his older brother had called him earlier that morning—fragile—but he nods the once, taking aback when the shining onyx of the riders eyes transformers to a cold, unadulterated hatred. he can almost taste the loathing wafting off the male like a bitter cologne.
"jimin?" taehyung questions, moving forward but pausing almost as quickly. "you're general parks youngest," jungkook's voice is deep and accusatory but he doesn't flinch, "you're jeon dongmin's son." he counters back, the certainty of this revelation settling in his bones. he lifts his chin and does his best to lock every muscle in his body, fighting the urge to start trembling away.
his brothers words bounce around his head, fear spiking in his throat and making it hard to swallow properly. he will kill you the second he finds out who you are.
he can't help but think that male is about to pick him up and throw him over the edge before he even has the chance to walk the parapet, he'll die being exactly what his father has always danced around calling him—weak.
jungkook sucks in a death breath and the muscle in his jaw flexes once, twice. "your father captured my father and oversaw his execution." jimin barely holds back a sound, like the older male has the only right to hatred here? "your father killed my older brother, seems like we're even." it's silent for a moment, no one daring to utter another word or even move. "hardly," jungkook finally breaks it, his glaring gaze strokes over the younger, almost like he's trying to memorize every detail or looking for any weakness. "your brother is a rider, guess that explains the leathers."
"guess so," jimin holds his glare, as if winning this staring competition will gain him entrance to the quadrant instead of crossing the parapet that lay before him. either way, he will be getting across alive; eunwoo isn't going to lose both siblings. jungkook's hands clench into fists, body tensing like a bowstring. he prepares for the strike, making sure he doesn't look away. the male might throw him off the tower but he definitely isn't going to make it easy. "you all right?" taehyung speaks up again, his gaze jumping between jungkook and jimin, obviously confused.
jungkook levels the brown haired male with a look, "you're friends?" the younger has to keep the offended scoff to himself when the male seems genuinely surprised at that fact. "we met on the stairs," taehyung says, squaring his shoulders and shuffling on his feet. the black haired male doesn't say anything for a moment as he looks down, noting the mismatched shoes, his brow arching as his hands relax by his sides, "interesting."
jimin lifts his chin another inch, "are you going to kill me?" their eyes clash once again as the sky finally opens and rain falls in a deluge, soaking his hair, his leathers and the stones around them in mere seconds. he mentally curses once he realizes he's going to have to cross the parapet while it's raining, he wasn't lucky enough to make it before the rain started.
a scream rends in the air and he startles, jerking his attention to the parapet just in time to see minho slip. he lets out a small gasp, his heart jolting into his throat and staying there while he watches as the blonde haired male catches himself, hooking his arms over the stone bridge as his feet kick beneath him, scrambling to find a purchase that isn't there.
"pull yourself up, minho!" taehyung shouts, looking both parts horrified and scared. "oh gods," jimin's hand flies to cover his mouth before the blond male loses his grip on the water slick stone and falls, disappearing from view. the wind and rain steal any sound the males body might make in the valley below, it also steals the sound of jimin's muffle cry too.
jungkook never takes his eyes from the younger, watching silently with a look he can't interpret as he brings his horrified gaze back to the riders. "why would i waste my energy killing you when the parapet will do it for me?" a wicked smile curves the males lips, "your turn."