Page 12 of The Awakening of Essensia

“Stop fighting me,” he said. “You’ll go headfirst after him if you’re not careful.”

Vaelira could hear his smile in the words, and her hand twitched for weapons that weren’t there. Her Commander had just launched himself into the sea and she failed to find the humour in it. She let out a sharp breath, then reluctantly, stopped fighting him.

He immediately let his hand drop and cold air swept between them as she stepped forward to peer down the sheer rock face. The twisting in her gut wasn’t from the height, she hadn’t feared the cliffs even as a small girl, no, this fear was for Lysander. For the man that had done so much for her when she had done so little in return. She didn’t believe Lysander had thrown himself to his death, logic wouldn’t allow it, but her pulse raced all the same.

She squinted but saw only darkness, the rain blurring the outlines of the rocks and waves below. “This is madness,” she called above the storm. If the trial began by throwing herself from a cliff, what could possibly come next? She glanced at the sky as lightening forked overhead. She turned to Eli, finding a small smirk on his lips.

“Do you trust me?” he said.

Vaelira barely knew him, let alone trusted him. But she did trust her Commander.

Vaelira pictured Freya lying in the Sanatorium, her ruined leg, the tears that had traced her freckled cheeks. Her friend would do anything to be here right now. Vaelira could do this for them both.

Clinging to her crumbling courage, she took a breath and stepped into the open air. For a moment, she was weightless, then her heart lurched as she dropped, her breath leaving her in an instant, her arms flailing as she fought for control. Rock slammed into her sooner than she had expected, and her body rolled instinctively to one side, shoulder grazing wet stone as she leaned away from the drop. Above her, the sky was lost to the overhang, and half her body was suddenly shielded from the rain. The wind howled like a wild beast robbed of its prey.

Someone coughed and she scanned the low cave. An oil lamp illuminated the bare rock, and at the back Commander Lysander crouched, a damp sleeve pressed to his mouth.

“You better move aside,” he said, a forced curve to his mouth, “so Eli can come in from the storm.”

She shuffled inside just as Eli landed on the narrow ledge. He stayed in a low crouch for only a moment before stepping into the hollow behind her.

A ledge. Thank the Gods. No, not the Gods. She should thank herself for letting logic beat out her fear. The Gods had nothing to do with it.

“Directly below us are tunnels,” Commander Lysander began without preamble. “We believe they were once an ancient escape route for Anhaven’s citizen’s and were meant to delay and mislead anyone in pursuit.”

He stepped to the centre of the cave and slid aside a slab of stone, revealing a narrow opening in the floor. It was just wide enough for a person to slip through. Vaelira stepped closer, peering into the black. No sound echoed from below.

“How did they dig through this rock?” she wondered aloud, trailing her gloved fingers along the slick edge of the opening.

Eli watched the movement, his expression unreadable.

“We don’t know,” Commander Lysander said warily. “The tunnels lead to a cavern at sea level. Inside is a marker. Retrieve it and bring it back.”

Vaelira’s hands moved to undo her cloak, but her fingers stilled on the buckle. “How long do I have before the tide comes in?”

“Not long. Focus on reaching the cave.”

“And if I find myself surrounded by water?”

Eli smirked. “Pray Vaerun is feeling merciful.”

The God of Storms and Sea had never shown her mercy before. She wasn’t foolish enough to believe he would now.

“Demons?”

“Not a concern,” Commander Lysander said, looking between her and Eli. “They avoid the tunnels.”

“Why?”

“Don’t concern yourself with those questions, recruit,” Eli said. “Focus on the task.”

She inhaled through her nose, urging the mix of annoyance and anxious tension in her chest down. She trusted the Commander enough to know he wouldn’t send her into a demon’s den. She didn’t trust Eli, but what did that matter? He was only there to observe, and it wasn’t like he would consider her for the Royal Guard after her performance the previous two days.

Pushing the thought aside, she let her cloak fall to the stone. The cold crept in immediately, fingers of ice threading their way through the seams in her clothes. She reached for the blades strapped at her hip, only to remember that she hadn’t worn them. No weapons allowed. She swallowed the knot rising in her throat. Whatever lay down there, she couldn’t turn back now.

Refusing to look at either of the men, Vaelira lowered herself into the darkness, her boots finding footholds carved into the tunnel wall, just wide enough to brace her weight. Little by little, she descended, the light fading with each step, cold stone pressing in on all sides.

She had barely gone a few feet when Commander Lysander’s face appeared above. In the lamplight, his age was clearer than ever, the frown at his brow threatening to undo her resolve.