Onyx Storm Best Quotes

In a life without magic, the best medicine is time,

You do some of your best work on that throne.

The best leaders are the ones who never want the job.

Ridoc bedhops like a fucking frog, but no, let’s give me crap.” We make it a few steps before none of us can smother our laughs. “A frog?” Ridoc grins from Sawyer’s left. “That’s the best you can do? A frog?” “Tara and I are old news.” Rhi shrugs. “Leadership is hard on both our schedules. We’re together when we have time, but it’s not like we’re seeing other people.” She shoots a sideways glance my way. “But he’s right, you and Riorson bicker like you’ve been married fifty years and neither of you wants to do the dishes.” “That is not true,” I protest as Sawyer nods. “Agreed,” Ridoc says. “And it’s always the same fight.” He lifts his hand to his chest. “I’ll trust you if you stop keeping secrets!” He drops the hand and scowls. “It’s my secretive nature that attracted you, and why can’t you just stay out of harm’s way for five fucking minutes?” Rhi laughs so hard she nearly chokes. I narrow my gaze on Ridoc. “Keep talking, and I’ll plant my dagger somewhere that prevents all frog-like activity.

Sometimes the best gift the god of luck can give is his absence. —Zehyllna: Isle of Zihnal by Major Asher Sorrengail

When push comes to shove, I’m not the best of us. She is.

Maybe you should talk to Garrick, because any advice I give you would be poisoned by my own grief. You have to do whatever’s best for you.

You can govern the province you love during the day, then slide into bed with me at night. Or I can always join you in the Assembly chamber. You do some of your best work on that throne.

When this is over, we should take as much leave as they’ll give us and spend it all in Aretia. We can figure out what life is supposed to look like without the daily threat of death. You can govern the province you love during the day, then slide into bed with me at night. Or I can always join you in the Assembly chamber. You do some of your best work on that throne. —Recovered Correspondence of Cadet Violet Sorrengail to His Grace, Lieutenant Xaden Riorson, Sixteenth Duke of Tyrrendor

Swear you’ll sound the alarm if I go too far, that you’ll keep it safe, even if it’s from me.” “What—” I start, but the gym door opens, and I look over my shoulder to see Garrick waving a rolled parchment. “The Earl of Lewellen said you’d be in here. Orders aren’t optional, Riorson, even for nobility. We need to go.” “Promise me,” Xaden says, stroking his thumb under my ear and completely ignoring his best friend. “You’re leaving?” I swing my gaze back to Xaden’s, realizing that’s why the messenger had tracked him down. “Now?” He leans in, blocking out the rest of the world. “Promise me, Violet. Please.” He’ll never go too far, never lose his soul, so I nod. “I promise.” Xaden’s eyes slide shut for a heartbeat, and blatant relief shines from their depths when he opens them. “Thank you.” “I know you can hear me.” Garrick raises his voice. “Let’s go.” “I love you.” Xaden kisses me hard and fast, and it’s over before I can even process it’s actually happened. “I love you, too.” I grab his hand as he withdraws. “Tell me what the king gave you.” He takes a deep breath. “He gave me back my title and the seat in the Senarium.” Holy shit. My lips part. “Not just Aretia, either…he gave me Tyrrendor,” Xaden says slowly, like he can’t believe it, either. And he doesn’t want it. My chest clenches. “Xaden—” “Don’t wait up.” He presses a kiss to the inside of my wrist, then strides toward Garrick. “I’ll be back by eight a.m. to sign that accord,” he calls back over his shoulder. “Try to stay out of trouble while I’m gone.” “Be careful.” He’s the Duke of Tyrrendor.

When I look up, everyone is staring at me. “What? I kept the gryphons close and paired dragons with similar flight strengths”—my gaze finds Xaden’s, and he’s not amused with my group pairings—“except for ours. Tairn and Sgaeyl have the best chance of staying in contact when separated if the rest of these islands have the same level of magic. It’s better for the group if they split for the day.” He arches his scarred brow. “Just you and me today, honey bear.” Garrick swings his arm over Xaden’s shoulder. “Don’t worry,” he leans in and whispers. “I’ll take good care of you.” He flashes a dimple.

Did you two ride a lot when you were younger?” Xaden asks as we pass by a tavern, and more than one mug of ale spills onto white tunics at the outdoor tables at the sight of us. My jaw drops and my head whips in his direction. Leather creaks, and when I glance back, sure enough, Mira is leaning forward in her saddle. “What?” Xaden looks at me, then lifts his brows and glances back at the others. Cat stares at him like he’s grown another head. Dain’s wearing two lines between his brows like he can’t quite figure out if this is a trick question, and Ridoc grins like he’s got front-row tickets to a play. Xaden’s gaze jumps to mine for a second before returning to the road as we take the fork to the right, leading to the market and port according to the rather remarkable signage jammed between the cobblestone and a large tree. “Am I not allowed to ask about your childhood?” “No,” I blurt. “Of course you are.” “It’s just that you usually act like I didn’t grow up with her,” Dain answers casually. “Like we weren’t best friends.” “I’m so fucking glad I got on this horse,” Ridoc says, gripping his reins tighter.

It seems like everyone’s life has been or will be connected to darkness of some kind. Sometimes it’s a deep shade of pure onyx — a complete and total absence of light. Other times it has more grey undertones, with sunshine begging to come out from behind storm clouds. Sometimes there are people who go through the worst of the worst and come out the other side determined to make themselves better because of their traumas. Some come out the other side broken, beaten down, bloody, and can barely manage to pick themselves back up again. Sometimes just pulling yourself off the dirty ground is enough of a win. It’s enough to tell those storm clouds to suck your fucking dick, that they won’t get the best of you. Other times, it’s okay to lie there in a pool of blood and let the icy rain wash it all away, to take the beating that the storm gives you until you can manage to get up and limp through the next thunderstorm. Yet, there are days when your best just isn’t enough to make it through the storm. — Bo Reid, A Reaper Christmas

It seems like everyone’s life has been or will be connected to darkness of some kind. Sometimes it’s a deep shade of pure onyx — a complete and total absence of light. Other times it has more grey undertones, with sunshine begging to come out from behind storm clouds. Sometimes there are people who go through the worst of the worst and come out the other side determined to make themselves better because of their traumas. Some come out the other side broken, beaten down, bloody, and can barely manage to pick themselves back up again. Sometimes just pulling yourself off the dirty ground is enough of a win. It’s enough to tell those storm clouds to suck your fucking dick, that they won’t get the best of you. Other times, it’s okay to lie there in a pool of blood and let the icy rain wash it all away, to take the beating that the storm gives you until you can manage to get up and limp through the next thunderstorm. Yet, there are days when your best just isn’t enough to make it through the storm.

He’s getting me back because I won the last round.” He flashes a grin. “I bought enough itching powder to fill a bucket, then dropped it between his scales on the back of his neck right after flight maneuvers a few weeks ago. He had to submerge his entire body in the river to avoid everyone in the Vale knowing I’d gotten the best of him.

It is in the realm’s best interest to ally with Poromiel, even temporarily.

Securing Basgiath and the wards has come at great cost, including General Sorrengail’s life. Strategy must adjust. It is in the realm’s best interest to ally with Poromiel, even temporarily. —RECOVERED CORRESPONDENCE OF GENERAL AUGUSTINE MELGREN TO HIS MAJESTY KING TAURI

Sometimes diplomacy is best served at swordpoint. —Journal of Captain Lilith Sorrengail

Sometimes diplomacy is best served at swordpoint.

Or I can always join you in the Assembly chamber. You do some of your best work on that throne.

Trager draws a card from the center and hands it to Calixta. “The arrow!” She holds it high, revealing a painted arrow, then turns it to the audience. The men translate, and the crowd falls silent. Trager staggers backward. Time slows to a crawl as he turns toward us with three fumbling footsteps. His gaze lurches for Cat, and then he falls to his knees and sways. An arrow protrudes from his heart. He’s dead before Ridoc and I can catch him. Sometimes the best gift the god of luck can give is his absence. —Zehyllna: Isle of Zihnal by Major Asher Sorrengail Chapter

When this is over, we should take as much leave as they’ll give us and spend it all in Aretia. We can figure out what life is supposed to look like without the daily threat of death. You can govern the province you love during the day, then slide into bed with me at night. Or I can always join you in the Assembly chamber. You do some of your best work on that throne.

The best leaders are the ones who never want the job. This is your mission because Andarna chose you. Tairn chose you.

No wonder he’s best friends with Xaden. They’re both excellent at dodging questions.

No. I’m just here because Halden can’t control his temper and Violet didn’t just bond one of our most terrifying battle dragons, but also an irid—the seventh breed. Dark wielders are spreading. People are dying as we sit here. Every day we’re gone could change the battle map in ways we can’t begin to predict. And my kingdom is full of assholes who won’t take refugees under king’s orders, so tracking down the irids is our best hope of not only adding to our numbers but maybe figuring out how we beat the venin six hundred years ago.

No wonder he’s best friends with Xaden. They’re both excellent at dodging questions. “You have a second signet, don’t you?” And like Xaden, he hid the strongest one.

Tell her she’s been the best part of my life—” Her mouth curves and she glances past me. “You don’t count, Cruth. You became my life.