6. CHAPTER 6
The rest of the weekend was boring and restful.
Most of us in the second and fifth squads wandered the halls and outside grounds.
Taking everything in. Monday arrived too fast, and we resumed our formations and physical fitness training.
We spent the majority of weeks three and four in the sparring gym, sparring with each other.
We also received basic medical training. While we had potential Healers among us, they communicated with the rest of us to stabilize the person. During one match, two male cadets were competing against each other when the larger one executed a gnarly armbar that I had never seen before.
I was standing at the edge of the mat when the snap cracked through the room. A scream ripped after it. The cadet with the armbar let go at once, dropping to his knees with apologies. We steadied the injured arm, hauled him up, and they rushed him to the infirmary.
Later, another cadet locked a leg, and the pop of a knee blowing out made my stomach turn. The joint bent wrong, clear out of place.
Over the next two weeks, I sparred seven times.
I won four, lost three. The victories felt sharp, a rush in my chest, proof I belonged here.
The losses stung deeper. Each tap burned with the reminder that no matter how much I trained, someone could still choke me out or twist me apart.
I always chased the throat, because oxygen ended fights.
Still, every time I wound up on my back, chin jammed tight to my chest, I knew how close I stood to the edge.
Winning fed my pride. Losing kept the fear alive.
Week five arrived, and everything began to fall into place.
I wasn't sure if I had been assigned to a platoon with a more lenient drill instructor or what, but Pascal didn't yell at us nearly as much as some of the other instructors.
I wasn't complaining. He still shed tears and tossed our bunks, but over the last few weeks, his behavior had become much calmer.
Our small second squad stayed close, sticking together during the various demanding drills we completed.
Week five, according to my dad, was expected to be another brutal and exhausting week. So far, it hadn't been as challenging as he had warned, but his motto remained, ‘Prepare for the worst, and when it isn't so bad, you'll feel victorious .’
We stood in formation, prepared for our tasks that day. Pascal was in front of our platoon, which now had ninety-eight members.
“Welcome to the Pass of Be?te Noire, you have fifteen minutes to pack your rucks, preparing to be in the field for the next four days,” he yelled across our platoon.
Four fucking days. What were we about to endure? We all rushed to our barracks and started packing. The room was chaotic, filled with various conversations and questions.
“What do we need to pack?”
“What are we going to be eating for four days?”
“This sounds like it will be a miserable time.”
I could hear the worry of some of the cadets, and frankly, I was a little worried too. They all rushed back down to the courtyard and formed up again.
Pascal looked us all over, gave us a worrisome smile, and afterwards he turned and shouted, “Forward March”.
We followed synchronously behind, five cadets in a row. We made it through the courtyard and the outdoor stadium and outside the college walls.
"Right turn,” he shouted. The first row turned and moved forward. The second row marched forward, then turned right and moved forward. I wondered what the view would have been like from the sky. Formations had a unique beauty of formality to them.
"Right turn!” he shouted again as we headed toward the rugged mountains behind the Bravo Wing.
The mountain pass was breathtaking, equally mesmerizing both during the day and when illuminated by moonlight.
As I looked out early that morning, I could see the narrow pathway carved into the steep mountain that zigzagged upward.
It dawned on me that we would attempt to climb this challenging slope.
"Halt, fall in,” Pascal shouted.
"Over the next four days, you will be marching up this mountain.
It will take nearly two days to reach the top and two days to return.
There are traps along the mountain. You will need to watch your steps and work as a unit.
You will be released with your squads staggered based on your obstacle ranking.
There are twelve caves spread out around the midway region.
They are first-come, first-served. You can choose to take the first one you came across or the seventh.
Choose wisely how long you rest. You can pass other squads on the mountain.
While this is a competition, do not intentionally cause harm to any other member.
However, not all of you will return alive.
Watch your steps. You are due back down here by twenty-two hundred, Thursday evening.
Fifth squad, you're up first. The rest of you, rest.”
Everyone broke into their groups and started chatting amongst themselves. We ranked second, which means we would start next.
“Hey, squad two, we want to keep a nice pace. If we go too fast, we will burn out. We also don’t want to go too slow and risk falling too far behind.
Let’s aim for cave eleven or twelve, depending upon which one fifth squad takes.
This will put us further up the trail to start after resting.
I’ll take the lead. Beau will take up the rear. We stick together.” Callum told us.
“Second squad, you’re up.”
“Let’s go,” Callum marched forward, and we all followed, forming a single line.
We started about fifteen minutes after the fifth squad, but we were unsure of the timing for the other groups. We continued to march forward and appeared to be making good progress.
When someone from the eighth squad shouted, “excuse us," behind us, we all turned our backs to the mountain to let them pass, sticking to our plan to avoid overexertion. Moments later, a loud BOOM rang out, followed by frantic screaming.
We increased our pace a little to figure out what happened.
As we got closer, the screaming grew louder, followed by shouting.
That was when we saw one of the cadets from the eighth squad on the ground with both of his lower legs blown off.
He looked unconscious, probably not surviving.
I heard soft wing beats approaching. I wasn’t sure where they were coming from.
Within seconds, Pascal landed on the edge. He tucked his wings in so fast that I barely had time to realize he had wings. Holy shit! They disappeared.
My mind raced in every direction. Within seconds, he grabbed the injured cadet up and took off into the sky. I knew Drusearons had magical abilities, but I didn’t realize they could go without displaying their wings.
“Let’s keep going, second squad. I am watching out for land mines. I am sure there will be more,” Callum shouted back at us. We continued, passing by a shocked eighth squad.
“Also watch for the traps that send arrows shooting out of the cliff," Beau called up.
“How do you know that one?” I asked.
“My brother went through a couple of years ago,” he said.
“Yeah, my dad totally left out this entire mountain quest, while he was trying to scare me not to join.”
“Land mine,” he yelled. “Wide step over it, and you’ll be fine.”
We all moved forward cautiously. I stepped over it, as wide as my legs would go, and marched ahead.
BOOM.
I closed my eyes. It wasn’t loud enough to be the one I just crossed, but I turned around and looked anyway. I think the sound came from above us—fuck—fifth squad. Callum and I shared a look, which told me he thought the same thing. Overall, our two squads were the closest.
“Fifth squad, are you guys okay?” Callum shouted as loud as he could, with his head tilted up.”
“We’re intact. Finn has a nasty gash. We’re okay.” William shouted back .
Whew. A gash was an improvement over what we saw earlier. We kept moving forward, avoiding numerous land mines along the way. We also passed by a few wall traps, which required us to drop to the ground and crawl underneath.
Night began to fall, and we still hadn't reached the caves. We heard so many land mines explode and arrows whizzing through the air. The screams around us made me wonder how many more cadets had been lost on the first day. The sky was filling with stars, and a nearly full moon lit our path. We reached a section so narrow that we had to move sideways. I prayed Callum would spot any traps, especially with the low visibility, and hoped they wouldn’t be cruel enough to set traps in such a thin passage.
“Ahhhhhh.” I heard right beside me, from Nadine.
I turned my head her way, and she was hanging off the side of the mountain.
“Fuck” I yelled. There wasn't enough space or room to move down and assist her. I crouched down the best I could, with my back pressed against the wall. Asher was on the other side of her. He crouched down as well.
“Nadine, you’re going to have to pull yourself up,” I said.
“I can’t. My… My… Hands are slipping.”
“Auriella, if we both grab her hand, do you think you can pull her up?” He looked over at me.
“I can try.” I reached out and grabbed her wrist, and he did the same on his side. Her hands were so sweaty, it felt like gripping baby oil. Fuck, I wasn’t sure we could do this. We had to. We couldn't lose someone.
“Nadine, you’re going to have to work with us here,” I said.
“I can’t… I can’t.” She whimpered.
“Yes, you fucking can!” He snapped back.
“You can do this. We can do this,” I told her.
But I knew her grip was slipping from my hand. I tried to pull her up, but it felt as if she hung there, as if she had given up.