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Then he was soaring across the gorge, a shout of glee echoing in his wake.

There was a stunned silence before Cal shook his head.

‘Do you ever wonder if he’s a touch mad?’ he asked Thea, staring after Kipp, who was growing smaller in the distance.

‘Only every so often…’

Cal laughed, then, seeing Kipp was safely across and already climbing to the top, he motioned to Thea. ‘Ladies first.’

With trembling fingers, Thea unbuckled her belt, abstractly hoping her pants didn’t fall down halfway across the chasm and fitted it to the rope, yanking down to once again test her weight.

With a final glance at the totem that now gleamed at her right bicep, she launched herself from the cliff.

The icy wind shocked her as it tangled in her braid and whipped her skin, but as Thea soared over the rocks and seabelow, her eyes streamed with joy. Gripping her belt with all her might, she let out a wild laugh at the absurdity of it all.

She could hardly believe it. This was freedom. This wasvictory.

The ledge came into clear view and she braced herself to slow before she crashed into the cliff face. Her boots skidded across the stone and she dug her heels in, bringing herself to an abrupt stop. She’d made it.

Looking back across to the Chained Islands, she could make out Cal’s figure. She gave him a wave with both hands before threading her belt back through the waist of her pants and starting up to the top of the cliff. It only took a few manoeuvres and then she was scrambling over the edge, Kipp’s firm hands hauling her up.

Together, they watched as Cal followed in their wake, soaring across the rope as well. Shortly after, he joined them on Thezmarrian soil and as the sun began to dip, the three of them looked out to what they had conquered; the Chained Islands, the initiation test… Ceremony or not, they were all Guardians of the guild now, protectors of the midrealms —

A shout sounded from below.

They had their weapons drawn in an instant, Cal with his bow and arrow, Kipp and Thea with their swords.

They inched towards the edge of the cliff, to see none other than Sebastos Barlowe on the ledge beneath.

Cal aimed his arrow at his face.

Seb visibly paled, looking around wildly for somewhere to take cover.

There was nowhere. He was exposed and at their mercy.

Thea glanced at Cal’s face and the rage that simmered there.

‘Cal…’ she said quietly.

She didn’t recognise the voice her friend used, dark and full of hatred. ‘Give me one reason why I shouldn't shoot this through the bastard’s eye.’

‘Maybe you should,’ Kipp said, sword still raised. ‘He deserves it.’

Seb panted hard and fast, his hands were raised in surrender, his eyes squeezed shut. ‘Please…’ It came out a whisper.

‘If you don’t kill him, I will,’ Kipp growled.

Thea threw herself between her friends and the ledge. ‘Don’t,’ she heard herself say.

Cal baulked. ‘You know what he did, Thea… You saw us, what he —’

‘I know,’ she said, her whole body wrought with tension as she held out her hands to implore them both. ‘He hurt me, too. But this isn’t you…’

‘Suits me just fine,’ Cal replied, fury still surging in his gaze, his hands trembling around his bow.

‘No, it doesn’t,’ Thea told him, sheathing her sword. ‘This isn’t you, and you both know it.’

A beat of silence followed.