Page 80 - Fourth Wing

There’s no approving smile when the colonel’s weary eyes find mine,

only a sigh that fills my chest with heavy sorrow when I hear it. I was
supposed to be his star pupil in the Scribe Quadrant, his crowning

achievement before he retires. How absolutely ironic that I’m now the least

likely to succeed in this one.
“It is the duty of the scribes not only to study and master the past but to

relay and record the present,” he says, rubbing the bridge of his bulbous

nose after finally tearing his disappointed gaze from mine. “Without
accurate depictions of our front lines, reliable information with which to

make strategic decisions, and—most importantly—veracious details to

document our history for the good of future generations, we’re doomed, not
only as a kingdom but as a society.”

Which is exactly why I’ve always wanted to be a scribe. Not that it
matters now.

“First topic of the day.” Professor Devera moves toward the map and

flicks her hand, bringing a mage light directly over the eastern border with
the Poromiel province of Braevick. “The Eastern Wing experienced an

attack last night near the village of Chakir by a drift of Braevi gryphons and
riders.”

Oh shit. A murmur rips through the hall, and I dip my quill into the

inkpot on the desk in front of me so I can take notes. I can’t wait to channel
so I can use the type of coveted pens Mom keeps on her desk. A smile

curves my lips. There could definitely be perks to being a rider. There will

be.
“Naturally, some information is redacted for security purposes, but what

we can tell you is that the wards faltered along the top of the Esben

Mountains.” Professor Devera pulls her hands apart and the light expands,
illuminating the mountains that form our border with Braevick. “Allowing

the drift not only to enter Navarrian territory but for their riders to channel
and wield sometime around midnight.”