The Human Anomally
Fourth Wing x Reader
Series Masterlist
The moment they landed in Aretia, the mission dissolved back into what was their reality.
Reports. Supply counts. Flight logs. Patrol schedules.
The war waiting patiently for absolutely no one.
For a brief moment, Violet watched Y/n and Sloane walk ahead of them through the courtyard.
The two first-years were deep in conversation.
Sloane was gesturing animatedly about something, and Y/n was listening with that infuriatingly attentive expression she always seemed to wear.
Then Y/n glanced back.
Caught Violet looking.
And casually waved goodbye.
Like they hadn't spent the last two days unraveling twenty years of mysteries around her existence.
"See you later, Sorrengail."
Then she turned and continued walking beside Sloane.
Just like that.
Normal.
Gods, she was normal.
That somehow made everything worse.
Violet sighed.
Then immediately pivoted.
As she walked back to Brennan's office, the only thing she would tell anyone that she encountered was,
"Meeting."
Xaden didn't even ask.
He simply changed direction, and the others followed.
One by one.
Bodhi.
Imogen.
Garrick.
Ridoc.
Sawyer.
Rhiannon.
Dain.
Mira.
Eventually, they spilled into the office, and once the door shut, only silence followed. Everyone looked at Violet, waiting for any elaboration.
Violet dropped into a chair.
"Okay."
She rubbed her forehead.
"Good news and bad news. We have new information, but very few answers and so many new questions."
And so she told them.
The fireside conversations
The questions.
The answers.
Every detail she could remember.
No matter how small.
No matter how insignificant it seemed.
Because at this point, they were surviving on insignificant details and unsaid interpretations.
When she finished describing Y/n's explanation regarding her training, Garrick nodded immediately.
"Tracks."
Everyone looked at him.
"What?"
"The mentor thing."
He leaned back.
"That's basically what she's told me too."
Ridoc raised his hand.
"Same."
That earned several surprised looks.
"What?" Ridoc said defensively.
"I talk to people."
Imogen snorted.
"You annoy people."
"Both aren't mutually exclusive."
Violet ignored them.
Because everyone was thinking.
Rapidly.
Connecting pieces.
Trying to force a picture from fragments.
Then Violet carefully mentioned the part about Y/n's mother.
And Dain immediately went pale.
The reaction was so obvious everyone noticed.
Rhiannon frowned.
"Aetos?"
Silence.
Then:
"You breathing?"
Dain stared at the table.
For several seconds he didn't answer.
When he finally did, his voice was quieter than usual.
"My mother disappeared when I was younger."
The room went still.
"What?"
Dain swallowed.
"Just a few years after my sister was born. I think I could have been 6 or 7."
Nobody spoke.
Not even Ridoc.
"I haven't heard from her since. No one has. My father basically erased any record of her existence after that so..."
His jaw tightened.
"So hearing Y/n talk about her mother like she's alive is..."
He looked away.
"...weird."
That was putting it mildly.
Violet exchanged a glance with Mira.
Who looked equally unsettled.
Because if Y/n's mother was alive and seemingly present—
And Dain's mother had disappeared—
Then there were implications there nobody was ready to touch.
Not yet.
The room fell silent again.
Everyone digesting.
Processing.
Thinking.
Then suddenly—
Rhiannon sat up.
Eyes bright.
The look she got whenever a puzzle clicked.
"Wait."
Everyone turned.
Rhiannon pointed excitedly.
"Are there books on fighting styles?"
Violet blinked.
"Yes?"
Rhiannon laughed.
Actually laughed.
"There!"
She pointed at the table like she'd discovered gold.
"If we identify her fighting style—"
Bodhi immediately caught on.
"We can identify the regions she spent the most time in."
Rhiannon nodded vigorously.
"Exactly, and there we know where to look. We have riders and flyers from all across the continent that can provide something."
Imogen sat straighter.
"Each regional mentor had to follow some sort of ancient teaching or something like that."
"Yes!"
Now everyone was following.
Rhiannon practically bounced in her seat.
"If she learned from different masters, then some of her techniques have to originate somewhere."
Violet nodded.
"We can cross-reference."
A thoughtful expression appeared on her face.
"According to what she said, she spent a good amount of time in Tyrrendor. We can start with the archives here."
Bodhi immediately added:
"And if she spent time in Poromiel—"
He pointed toward the flight fields.
"The fliers could bring some light to that."
Now everyone was nodding too finally feeling like they could be getting somewhere.
"Someone has got to recognize something."
Sawyer leaned forward.
"Combat styles don't appear from nowhere."
Exactly.
Amongst so many things happening, so much darkness and uncertainty, Violet felt something click.
Finally.
They had lead.
An actual lead.
Not a theory.
Not speculation.
A lead.
The mood in the room shifted immediately.
Hope.
Momentum.
Direction.
Then Xaden ruined it.
Naturally.
"We'll do that when we have time."
Everyone groaned.
Ridoc threw his head back dramatically.
"There he goes."
"The responsible one."
"The tyrant."
"An enemy of fun."
Xaden didn't even look at him.
"We are still fighting a war."
That shut everyone up.
Unfortunately.
Because he was right.
The venin hadn't disappeared.
The wards still needed work.
Supply lines still mattered.
People were still dying.
Their mystery remained exactly that—
A mystery.
Not a priority.
At least officially.
Then Violet spoke.
Quietly.
Thoughtfully.
"What if it is correlated?"
Everyone turned.
"What?" Brennan asked.
Violet looked around the room.
"What if figuring out what happened to Y/n leads us to some answers?"
A pause.
"What if it connects to the venin? Or-or to the feathertails?! She spent some time in the Isles too? I mean, that has to amount to something. After all, no one can speed growth naturally. Memories can be blocked and pulled but not completely altered and erased, so what if? We all know leadership can't be trusted, and we all know that the Isles might have something that can help our wards and our fight. If figuring out what happened to Y/n can help us, it might be more of a priority than we think."
The room grew thoughtful again.
Because stranger things had happened.
Brennan had come back from the dead.
Venin existed.
Andarna existed.
Nothing was impossible anymore.
Then Dain spoke.
Softly.
"What if it leads to more enemies?"
Silence.
The words landed differently coming from him.
Because everyone could hear the grief beneath them.
The exhaustion.
The fear.
Violet looked at him.
Really looked.
And suddenly realized something she'd been avoiding.
For months.
She'd been so focused on her own connection to Y/n.
Her own confusion.
Her own grief.
That she'd forgotten something obvious.
This was Dain's sister.
Not hers.
His.
The little girl he'd loved, protected, lost, and mourned. She knew how Dain was. Where she was good at compartmentalizing her emotions, Dain just went with the motions. He would work until he couldn't ignore his feelings anymore.
And now—
Found.
Only to discover she didn't know who he was.
Gods.
That had to hurt.
More than any of them understood.
Violet opened her mouth.
Ready to say something.
Anything.
Then—
Knock.
Everyone froze.
Another knock.
Brennan frowned.
"Come in."
The door opened.
And every single person in the room looked surprised.
Sloane Mairi and Aaric Greycastle stepped inside.
The first-years immediately noticed the crowd.
The tension.
The fact that half the room looked guilty.
Which, admittedly, wasn't helping their case.
Slowly, she closed the door behind her.
Then, both crossed their arms.
"Wow."
Ridoc winced.
"What?"
"You all look incredibly suspicious for being some of the most feared or respected riders of this generation"
Nobody answered.
Sloane sighed.
Then looked directly at Violet.
Then Dain.
Then Xaden.
And suddenly her expression shifted.
Becoming serious.
"I think there are a few things you'll all be interested in."
The room immediately straightened.
Every ounce of attention locking onto her.
Sloane pointed a finger.
"But."
Ah, there it was.
The condition.
"I am only doing this out of concern and genuine care for my friend. You have to swear you didn't hear them from me."
Ridoc immediately leaned forward.
"Oh, this is good."
Imogen kicked his chair.
He ignored her.
Brennan folded his arms.
"Well, go on, what kind of things?"
Sloane glanced between Aaric and the closed door.
Both had agreed to do this because they were honestly concerned about Y/n. They had seen the group's fascination and curiosity with their friend, and that added to what the girl would occasionally tell them was enough to guarantee this.
Then back at the group.
Her gaze briefly lingering on Dain.
Long enough for everyone to notice.
When she finally spoke, her voice was lower.
Careful.
Measured.
"The kind that made me realize Y/n's background holds something much darker than she lets on."
Silence.
Complete.
Absolute.
Then Aaric added:
"And it should be something that holds our attention."
And suddenly every person in the room forgot about exhaustion.
Forgot about reports.
Forgot about sleep.
Because after months of questions...
They might finally be standing in front of their first real answers.
The room remained silent long after Sloane started speaking.
Not because nobody had questions.
Because every sentence somehow made things worse.
Or perhaps more accurately—
Sadder.
Sloane stood near the door, arms crossed, looking at each of them as she spoke.
"Y/n talks."
Ridoc blinked.
"That's not groundbreaking information."
Sloane shot him a look.
"She talks when she trusts people."
That immediately shut him up.
Because trust was clearly not something Y/n handed out freely.
"She's mentioned things that might have been random at first, but when you sit and think about them, you realize that it isn't normal. Not that any of us have a true definition of normality, but they are odd. And the worst part is, I think she doesn't even realize that they are strange."
Violet leaned forward.
Listening carefully.
Everyone was.
"I mean, she was never allowed, friends."
The room stilled.
Sloane shrugged.
"Or at least that's what it sounds like."
"What do you mean?" Mira asked.
"She said that her family raised her to believe that people weren't worth the risk."
Sloane frowned.
"As if that's normal."
It wasn't.
Not even remotely.
"She doesn't remember a good portion of her life. Firstly, because her early childhood years seem like a blur, and she can't identify a single solid memory. And the rest...she sometimes says she feels as if her brain blocked some of it cause it was too painful to revisit. Strangely, she finds peace with that. In her mind, as long as it isn't there, it can't hurt her."
Sloane continued.
Violet felt something cold settle in her stomach.
Her father had once told her that memory was strange.
That sometimes the mind protected itself.
She remembered him saying that after Brennan died.
After she'd had nightmares for months.
But nightmares and years of missing memories were two very different things.
"And although she is well traveled, she was also very... sheltered."
That wasn't the word she'd wanted.
Everyone could tell.
"Protected?"
Brennan offered.
"No."
Sloane immediately shook her head.
"Not protected."
Her eyes narrowed thoughtfully.
"Controlled."
That landed differently.
Much differently.
"How controlled?" Xaden asked.
His voice had gone dangerously neutral.
The kind that meant he was paying very close attention.
That's when Aaric looked at him.
Then answered.
"It seems as if her family would do extensive background checks on anyone she ever interacted with."
That earned immediate reactions.
"What?" Bodhi asked.
Sloane nodded.
"Everyone."
Aaric continued, "Apparently, everyone who interacted with her had to be searched extensively. Whether it was teachers, neighbors, merchants, city officials, kids, women, quite literally anyone who could hold any chance of being around her."
The silence grew heavier.
"Not even royalty is guarded like that." Aaric finishes.
That wasn't protection.
That was surveillance.
Then Sloane dropped the next revelation.
And the room somehow got quieter.
"She said that she was glad that in Basgaith there was a rule that no one could get attacked in their sleep cause maybe she could finally sleep an entire night. Apparently, part of her training had been ensuring she was ready for defense at any given moment, so peace was a luxury."
Violet froze.
Garrick's expression immediately hardened.
"The fuck...even Basgaith grants you some sort of mercy on that."
Sloane nods.
"In her case, they called it training. They wanted her alert all the time. Ready to fight..."
Her voice carried bitterness now.
"And kill at any given moment ."
Nobody spoke. Violet's mind went back to Y/n's words in the fire pit...
" I've trained my whole life...ever since I can remember" "To be a soldier?" "No...not exactly...more like a general" Violet knew that the word general wasn't the correct one. The hesitation, the pauses to think and find something safe to say, the rise in Y/n's voice at the end of her sentence- it had been to cover the reality of her life. "She was raised to be an assassin..." Violet says out loud, and the reality of her statement dawns on all of them.
Sawyer slowly leaned back and let out a puff of air.
"That...is...oh shit"
Because everyone in that room knew exactly what kind of training produced that result.
And none of it was kind.
None of it was healthy.
None of it was something a child should endure.
Sloane swallowed and looks down.
Then continued.
"The worst part is that her excellence came with a cost."
Nobody answered.
Because nobody wanted to hear it.
"Apparently, anytime she failed to end the fight, she would get the 'hesitation' trained out of her."
That made Brennan sit straighter.
"What?"
Sloane nodded.
A pause.
"Cruelty was rewarded, whereas kindness was punished. "
The room fell silent.
Nobody asked what kind.
Nobody wanted specifics.
The implications were bad enough.
"They never gave her special treatment because she was a child."
The words echoed.
Child.
Child.
Child.
Because every new detail forced them to remember the same thing.
Y/n hadn't been taken at sixteen.
Or eighteen.
Or twenty.
She'd been twelve.
Twelve.
Gods.
Mira looked away first.
Then Brennan.
Both siblings suddenly finding the walls very interesting.
Because they remembered her at twelve.
They all did.
The tiny girl who used to chase dragons.
The girl who climbed trees.
The girl who hid sweets in her pockets.
The girl who couldn't possibly have deserved any of this.
Violet's chest tightened.
Aaric coughs and catches everyone's attention. He looks at Violet, trying to relay a silent message as he speaks his next words.
"I have no idea of how much this could help, but the people she grew up with weren't soldiers."
Everyone blinked.
"What?" Sawyer asked.
Sloane nodded.
"Apparently not."
"Then who were they?" Dain asked with a sort of quiet desperation.
Aaric looked at Violet once again and then at Xaden. Violet exchanged confused gazes.
"Her 'family' consisted of a group of merchants, gamblers, thieves, and mercenaries."
That last word held weight.
Silence.
Absolute silence.
Even Ridoc had nothing.
Because somehow that made the picture even stranger.
Not military.
Not government.
Not Navarre.
Not Poromiel.
Not rebels.
Not leadership.
Nothing fit.
Nothing.
Violet felt frustration begin to bubble within her. She could understand a little bit of what Aaric was trying to tell her between the lines. He had done research as well. He might have been some help. Y/n always spent her time with Sloane, and Aaric would join them sometimes. Growing up, she had heard both in the castle corridors and at the various military bases of rogue bandit groups. They had all types of groups of people from all parts of the continent. For the most part, they were harmless, just organized people who didn't affiliate with any political figure...and yet....she mentally noted to ask Aaric later cause he was trying to tell her something, but there were too many people around. She was of the few that knew his real identity so maybe when they were in private, she could-
"I ma not just telling you this because its fun or because I want to be a terrible friend."
Sloane crossed her arms.
And looked directly at all of them.
One by one.
Making sure they listened.
Making sure they understood.
"Quite the contrary, I am telling you this because I am her friend and I am concerned."
The room remained quiet.
"Y/n is a great person; she is kind, and funny, loyal, and sweet. She is one of the few people that has made this entire hellhole feel...decent. She doesn't deserve to be treated as an anomaly or a weapon cause she has had her fair share of that already. She is a human being, probably just as traumatized as the rest of us, if not more in some aspects."
The statement was immediate.
Certain.
Protective.
And for a brief moment, Violet saw Liam. She felt her throat close and her heart tug.
Not physically...never physically.
But in the way Sloane stood.
The way she defended the people she loved.
The way she refused to back down.
The way she cared.
"I found a real friend."
Sloane continued.
"And honestly?"
She looked around the room.
"You all observing her like she's some strange creature is freaking us out."
Ridoc visibly winced.
Brennan looked guilty.
Dain looked devastated.
Violet looked away.
Because she couldn't exactly argue.
Sloane was right.
Entirely right.
"She's human."
The words cut cleanly through the room.
"Treat her like it."
Nobody spoke.
Because there wasn't anything to say.
Then Sloane hesitated.
Just for a moment.
Before adding:
"I'm worried about her."
That got everyone's attention.
Immediately.
"What do you mean?" Xaden asked.
Sloane swallowed.
"Last night."
Her eyes flickered toward Violet.
"She said she found a way out."
"What?"
"Out."
Sloane repeated.
"Out of where she lived."
Nobody moved.
Nobody breathed.
The implications arrived instantly.
Slowly.
Horribly.
"I don't know."
Sloane shook her head.
"Maybe she meant something else."
A pause.
"But..."
Her expression tightened.
"The way she said it..."
Nobody needed her to finish.
They already understood.
It sounded like escape.
Not departure.
Not leaving.
Escape.
And suddenly every piece of information shifted.
Again.
Because if Y/n escaped—
Then someone was probably looking for her.
Or had looked for her.
Or had allowed her to leave.
And all three possibilities were terrifying.
Sloane looked toward the door.
Then back at them.
"She's happy here. "
Her voice softened.
Genuine concern shining through.
"For some messed up reason, being in Basgaith and Aretia has helped her."
Violet thought of Y/n laughing around the fire.
Of her teasing Ridoc.
Of her arguing with Sloane.
Of her smiling at Vivifica.
Gods.
She was.
"All I am saying is, don't ruin that. Investigate all you want; for all we know, it could help us somehow. But don't ruin it."
Sloane said.
Not as a request.
As a warning.
Then she gave them a single nod.
Turned.
And left.
Aaric following at her tail.
The door clicked shut behind her.
Silence followed.
A very long silence.
Nobody knew what to say.
Because every answer had somehow created five new questions.
Finally Ridoc spoke.
Quietly.
For once.
"That's horrible."
No jokes.
No sarcasm.
Just honesty.
And somehow that made it hit harder.
Nobody disagreed.
Not one person.
Across the room, Dain stared at the table.
Mira looked furious.
Dain looked heartbroken.
Mira looked ready to kill someone.
And Xaden...
Xaden looked thoughtful.
Dangerously thoughtful.
The kind of thoughtful that usually preceded a very unpleasant discovery.
Eventually Violet broke the silence.
Barely above a whisper.
"If they trained her that way..."
Nobody interrupted.
"If they spent years turning her into a weapon..."
The words felt wrong.
But true.
Painfully true.
"Then why let her go?"
Silence.
Again.
Because that was the question.
The question.
Had she escaped?
Or had she been released?
And those were very different things.
If she escaped—
Then someone had lost their weapon.
If she was released—
Then someone had deployed it.
The thought settled over the room like a storm cloud.
Nobody liked either option.
Not even a little.
And as Violet sat there, staring at the closed door Sloane and Aaric had disappeared through, one final realization settled uneasily into place.
For months, they had been asking how Y/n was even alive.
How she returned.
How she forgot.
How she changed.
Maybe they had been asking the wrong questions.
Because perhaps the most important mystery wasn't what happened twenty years ago.
Perhaps it was much simpler.
Whoever took Y/n had invested years into shaping her.
Training her.
Protecting her.
Controlling her.
Breaking her down and rebuilding her into something dangerous.
People didn't spend that kind of time and effort on a child without a purpose.
And Violet couldn't shake the feeling that somewhere out there—
Someone was eventually going to come looking for what they had lost.
Taglist: If you'd like to be added, leave a comment or repost
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Author's note: I apologize in advance for the Liam mention. Quite literally, wrote it, edited it, and then read it, devastated myself 3 times.
