Fourth Wing

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To Aaron.

My own Captain America.

Through the deployments, the moves,

the sunniest highs, and the darkest lows,

it’s always been you and me, kiddo.

Here’s to the artists.

You hold the power to shape the world.

The following text has been faithfully transcribed from Navarrian into the modern language by Jesinia Neilwart, Curator of the Scribe Quadrant at Basgiath War College. All events are true, and names have been preserved to honor the courage of those fallen. May their souls be commended to Malek.

A dragon without its rider is a tragedy. A rider without their dragon is dead.

— ARTICLE ONE, SECTION ONE

THE DRAGON RIDER’S CODEX

Conscription Day is always the deadliest. Maybe that’s why the sunrise is especially beautiful this morning — because I know it might be my last.

I tighten the straps of my heavy canvas rucksack and trudge up the wide staircase of the stone fortress I call home. My chest heaves with exertion, my lungs burning by the time I reach the stone corridor leading to General Sorrengail’s office. This is what six months of intense physical training has given me — the ability to barely climb six flights of stairs with a thirty-pound pack.

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