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I stand in shock, blinking back helpless tears as he swings his pack over his shoulder without even a backward glance.
With a terse wave, he walks away, leaving me reeling in his wake. I watch his retreating back until he's swallowed by the mountain mists.
And just like that, I’m once more alone.
I've always relied on myself. It's how I've survived this long.
But now I want to give up and cry. To set up camp, feel sorry about myself, eat all my rations in the process, and then use my comm to get the hell off this damn mountain. But I push it down. I push down the nagging wish that circumstances were different.
Wishing won't conquer this trial.
Squaring my shoulders, I start along the branching trail. "You've got this, Iara," I mutter, needing to hear my own voice. "You were born to take on these heights."
One foot in front of the other. I find my rhythm, moving steadily onward. Together or apart, I will endure.
I try to keep my mind busy, but in my heart, I know I've just been cast aside, dumped by a man who was never truly mine to begin with. His abrupt about-face wounds me deeply, even if our bond lived mainly in stolen moments.
But out here, the mountain makes the rules. And its harsh dictates have torn us apart as swiftly as they first threw us together.
Now I must find a way to press on alone as I’ve always done.
As tears roll down my cold cheeks, I angrily blink them back, refusing to allow myself to indulge in heartbreak. Clenching my jaw, I make a silent vow. I will show him I don't need him or anyone else. I will conquer this alone, through sheer force of will.
Scanning the rugged slopes, I begin to climb while scanning for a quicker and more daring route, weaving along narrow ledges and up steep escarpments. I put my skills as a climber to use, pushing myself to take more dangerous shortcuts and quicken my pace.
If he wants to race separately fine by me, I’ll leave him in the dust.My lungs burn with exertion but I keep up the bruising tempo, fueled by the smoldering ashes of his betrayal.
I barely pause to catch my breath as I catch the next ledge, pulling myself up and ignoring all caution in my determination to prove I’m not weak, that I can do this on my own. Rocks skitter under my feet and I scrape my knee against the rock face.
I embrace the pain. It distracts me from the ache in my heart.
Rylan wanted me to give up and fail, but I’ll show him just how strong I can be.
Upward I climb, taking reckless risks in my bid to conquer the course on my own terms. I will make it to the Cradle first and leave my doubts far below in the shadows. Higher and higher Iclimb, continuing my reckless ascent, catching glimpses of Rylan and other competitors through the formations below.
He’s setting up camp. His movements are methodical. He secures his shelter and lights a fire. Part of me wishes to be there, sharing the warmth and camaraderie. But I quickly quash those thoughts.I don't need him or anyone else.
Using my small size and agility to my advantage, I climb higher as darkness falls, leaving Rylan and the others far below. My pack is light now, stripped down to the bare essentials, allowing me to scamper up narrow cracks and risky handholds.
I move swiftly, almost recklessly under the moonlight. My bruised heart urges me upward, farther from the perceived weakness of connections and bonds. Up here, there is only me and the untamed unknown.
The night air chills my skin, the cold numbing the ache inside me.
Finally, just before dawn, I reach the next summit and find my own little cave to shelter in. I’m more than a little impressed by the warmth and safety of a good cave. I can thank Rylan for that. But I don’t even want to think of him.
Using fresh snowpack and some extra bones from the previous night’s cache, I combine my hard tack and some roots and mushrooms I forged into a comfortable stew.
In high spirits, I fall asleep next to my own fire.
In my own campsite.
At the end of the world.
On my own.
17
RYLAN
