Chapter 7: Fear

Some will try to scare you into obedience, but your mind is your strongest weapon. If you can conquer fear there, the rest will follow. Stay steady, even when you feel the ground shift. You are as beautiful as your mother but, you are your father's daughter.

Excerpt of recovered correspondence of Lieutenant Xaden Riorson to Thana Valaren.

~

The library was quiet, save for the soft rustle of pages turning and the scratch of pens on paper. Thana sat across from Liam at one of the long wooden tables, her notebook open in front of her. The ink from her pen smudged as she absentmindedly sketched the sight of Liam sitting opposite her, his brow furrowed as he scribbled notes into a thick, leather-bound notebook.

He was invested in his studies, his eyes flicking between the page and the open text before him. But something about his posture seemed off, his usually steady hand faltering occasionally. His foot still tapped softly against the floor in a rhythmic pattern, though it lacked its usual energy. Thana watched him for a moment, her pen stilling mid-stroke.

"You're quiet today," she asked, her voice softer than she intended, a hint of concern threading through her words. She studied him closely, watching the way his shoulders tensed.

Liam didn't respond right away, his eyes lingering on the page before him, but his hand stilled as though he'd been caught in the act of overthinking. Thana's gaze softened, her hand resting on the table, fingers tracing the edges of her notebook.

"Everything okay?" she asked, her voice gentle, trying not to sound too insistent.

Liam hesitated, exhaling slowly, then met her gaze. His eyes were tired—more than usual—and there was a weariness in his expression that caught her off guard.

"I—" He paused, then sighed. "I've been writing to Sloane." He looked around to make sure he was out of earshot of others. "Xaden's been sending the letters to her."

Thana blinked, not expecting that response. Liam rarely spoke about his sister, not since they'd both arrived at Basgiath. She had been there in the background of his conversations, but never at the forefront.

"Writing to her?" Thana echoed, tilting her head slightly. "What about?"

"Everything. The trials..." Liam said, his voice tinged with a sadness that made Thana's chest tighten. "How to survive them. How to survive. I have to, Thana, I have to do what I can to make sure that she makes it across the parapet because if she doesn't I..."

Thana's heart ached for him. She had never truly understood the bond between siblings like the one Liam and Sloane shared, but she could see it now in the quiet pain that seeped into his confession. It reminded her of the way she'd felt when her father died—helpless, unable to do anything but watch the people she cared about suffer.

She shifted her notebook aside and leaned forward, her fingers brushing the edge of the table. "Liam," she said quietly, her voice carrying the weight of everything unspoken between them. "She's stronger than any of us. She's going to make it. You're gonna see her again."

Liam looked at her, his blue eyes bright with a mixture of gratitude and doubt. Then, without a word, he reached across the table, his hands wrapping around hers. The pressure of his grip was firm, almost desperate.

"I just... I need to believe that," he murmured, his thumb brushing across the back of her hand.

Thana gave his hand a gentle squeeze and repeated, "You're gonna see her again."

The words hung in the air between them, a quiet promise to one another. Thana held her composure, her steady gaze never leaving his. She could feel the weight of his worry, and for a moment, she let herself believe that everything might just be okay—if only for this moment.

Liam finally broke the silence, a faint but genuine smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "I love you."

She swallowed the lump in her throat and leaned down to place a kiss on the back of his hand. "I love you too."

~

Thana craned her neck to take in the obstacle course carved into the cliffside. It stretched up and up, switchback after switchback, an impossible series of challenges leading to the ridge that separated the citadel from the flight field and the vale beyond. Her stomach twisted as she traced the path with her eyes, each ledge more intimidating than the last. She couldn't shake the feeling that the course itself was taunting them, daring them to try and fail.

Liam, on the other hand, seemed unfazed, practically bouncing on his heels in excitement. "Finally," he breathed, grinning as he took in the daunting course.

Thana swallowed hard, trying to focus on the memories that rose unbidden. She thought back to the obstacle courses her father used to set up and the walls he'd made her climb back at Riorson House. It was as if he'd been preparing her for this moment, training her without her even realizing.

"I still don't know why they call it the Gauntlet," Ridoc muttered, arms crossed as he surveyed the course with a mix of disdain and nervousness.

Garrick leaned close to Thana, his voice a low murmur, "It's to weed out the weak before Presentation. You'll see."

Garrick had asked her and Liam to come out early to get a feel for the Gauntlet before it was time for their squad to make their first attempt. She wished he hadn't. She struggled to push away the haunting image of watching others fall from the Gauntlet. The thought of it being her—plummeting to her death—made bile rise in her throat. But the thought of it being Liam was too much to bear.

Xaden stood with his arms crossed, talking with the other wing leaders, his expression unreadable as he watched the remaining cadets of the quadrant. She could only imagine the pressure he felt, bearing the responsibility of the lives around him.

Her thoughts were interrupted by an argument nearby—Ridoc and Tynan were at it, their voices raised and indignant. Ridoc must still be fuming over getting humiliated by Rhiannon on the mat. Sawyer tried to calm them down, his tone serious. "Look, you could be the best at the challenges and still get passed over by a dragon. Happened to me last year."

Professor Emetterio's voice cut through their bickering. "Listen up. The Gauntlet got its name because this cliff guards the vale. And, yes, if you're wondering—like an actual gauntlet, it's slippery as hell."

The cadets stilled, some of them wide-eyed as Professor Emetterio continued. "Hand-to-hand combat is on hold for the next two and a half weeks. You've got nine attempts to master this before Presentation. You've got one hour before the next squad goes. Now pay attention, because each ascent is designed to mimic challenges you'll face in battle."

Thana took a deep breath as she and Liam moved to the edge of the line. She glanced up, watching Violet's squad attempt the Gauntlet. The challenges were brutal—one cadet after another slipping, grabbing for the ropes, each grab costing them time. And still, they pushed forward. Thana's stomach clenched. This couldn't be the worst of it.

Her gaze shifted, catching sight of Dain standing off to the side, watching Violet with an expression that could only be described as terrified. She nudged Liam. "Dain's ridiculous, isn't he?"

Liam laughed under his breath, glancing over at Dain. He scoffed, "I don't need any convincing."

After what felt like forever, it was their turn. Thana's heart hammered as Professor Emetterio addressed their squad, his voice echoing down the cliffside. "Remember, there are ropes every six feet. Grabbing one costs you thirty seconds, but death will cost you more. Let's move."

Thana steadied her breathing, eyes fixed on the ropes stretching up the cliff, each turn steeper than the last. She watched a few cadets go before her, and then Liam stepped up, his stance confident as he dashed forward onto the spinning log, crossing it with ease. Thana's nerves tightened as she watched him.

When her turn came, she squared her shoulders and sprinted across the log, feeling it shift beneath her. She tried to focus on the memories of her father's training—the logs he'd make her cross at the edge of the garden, the ropes he'd hung from trees over the creek. But this was harder. The course was relentless, and each new challenge was more grueling than the last.

She swung from bar to bar, her grip aching, her focus narrowing to the few feet in front of her. Liam was up ahead, light on his feet as if the obstacles were mere stepping stones. She drew strength from his determination, forcing herself to keep up.

But as she neared the final stretch, the ramp looming just ahead, she watched in horror as the girl in front of Liam lost her footing. She slipped, reaching for the rope but missing, and fell halfway down the cliff. The sight was seared into Thana's mind, and she staggered backward, pressing herself against the rock wall.

Liam caught her arm, his hand grounding her. He tilted her face up, his eyes gentle but firm. "Focus, Thana. You've done this before. Just breathe."

When she caught her breath, he let go, running up the final slope and calling back to her, his voice steady. "Come on, you've got this!"

She swallowed hard, blinking away the stinging in her eyes as she took a shaky breath. She couldn't fall now. Not after everything. Summoning the last of her strength, she sprinted up the ramp, her feet slipping against the steep incline but catching just in time. She stumbled as she reached the top, collapsing to her knees, her breaths ragged as she fought to keep her composure.

Liam was beside her in an instant, his arm around her shoulders as she tried to catch her breath. She made it. It was over... for today

The following morning, they gathered in formation, the air somber as Captain Fitzgibbons approached to read the death roll. Thana's stomach twisted as he began, his voice solemn and unwavering.

"Calvin Atwater. Elizabeth Stimer. Seraphine Mungo."

Thana felt a pang in her chest as Seraphine's name echoed through the air. Seraphine was her bunk buddy. Just a few days prior she had told Thana how scared she was for the Gauntlet. Thana had tried to reassure her, to tell her she'd be fine. But it had been a lie. She hadn't been fine at all.

There was nothing remarkable about that morning. The first trial had only lengthened the list of the fallen, each name a reminder of the precariousness of their lives. Corilus Rickman. She remembered him—kind, a bit odd, but nice enough.

She slipped her hand into Liam's, and he squeezed it tight. She didn't know what she'd do if she ever heard his name on that list.

There was a dark cloud over Basgiath that day.