𝐒𝐔𝐑𝐑𝐄𝐏𝐓𝐈𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐔𝐒

𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐧𝐚𝐩𝐬

The storm raged on and Isolde's belief that Zihnal was watching over her was lessening by the second. As the wind howled through the narrow crevices of the cliffs, Isolde stood at the entrance of the Parapet, heart racing and eyes narrowed against the gusts. Lightning flickered in the distance, illuminating the jagged stones of the bridge that stretched precariously across the chasm below.

"You've got this," she muttered under her breath, "Just like the balance beam at home." Just without the 200-foot drop included the more pessimistic part of her brain. Today, the stakes felt higher than ever. If her parents found out she would be dragged back home with even more restrictions than before. She grimaced at the thought and shook it quickly out of her mind.

The stone beneath her felt cold and slick as expected by the rain that began to fall in heavy sheets. Each step was met with a sharp gust that threatened to throw her off balance, but she kept her gaze fixed ahead, focusing on the other side where safety awaited.

The wind shrieked around her, drowning out the sounds of the other candidates who had bravely ventured out before the storm hit. She could see a few of them struggling against the elements, their forms swaying as they fought to maintain their footing. Fear flickered in her chest, but she suppressed it, recalling the lessons her mother had taught her about resilience and courage.

As she advanced, a flash of lightning illuminated the cliffs, and for a brief moment, Isolde glimpsed at the sheer drop on either side of the Parapet. The ravine yawned below her like a hungry beast, and the realization sent a shiver down her spine. One misstep—that is all it would take. She forced herself to focus, to breathe, channelling the determination that simmered within her.

Halfway across the bridge, the storm intensified, rain slashing down and battering her armour. Water pooled in the grooves of the stone, making the surface even more treacherous. She could barely see a few feet ahead, the mist rising from the depths swirling with the storm. Her heart raced, pounding in her ears, but she pushed forward, fighting the urge to retreat.

Suddenly, the wind gusted fiercely, and she felt herself sway dangerously. Once again, another gust hit her causing her to crash down onto the parapet. Isolde clenched her jaw, determined not to let fear consume her. "Get up." She spoke aloud to herself. Placing either of her hands at the side of the parapet she rolled through her legs and slowly rose again, making sure to balance the whole way.

A slight breath in confirmed that something had happened to her ribs but now was not the time for her to concern herself over the pain. She had the rest of her life for that, or the next two minutes depending on how the rest of the crossing went.

Once again, she shuffled along the death-defying bridge and managed to gain some speed whilst maintaining balance and keeping her body rigid. Another twenty metres and she could safely call herself a cadet. She started to catch up to the man in front of her before she realised that the candidate in front of him was trying to throw him off. He was around six foot tall and quite muscular if the tightness of his clothing was any indication.