Interlude
INTERLUDE
T he candles sputtered as a gust of wind whipped through the open window.
“Careful.” One of the hooded figures moved, using their body as a shield against the elements. After a moment, the light steadied, a gentle flickering once more.
The hooded figure holding the rope tugged at the knot they’d made and then nodded, satisfied. “It is ready. Signal the initiate.”
Another member of the Brotherhood came forwards, bearing a heavy iron lantern. Carefully, they positioned it in front of the window, where the light could be seen from below.
The hooded figure with the rope moved to the table, pen scratching across parchment as they recorded the details of the initiation ritual. From their position, they could see the rope jerk and grow taut as the initiate began their climb.
The wind howled, and lightning split the sky. At the same time, the members of the Brotherhood heard the distinct cry of an eagle.
“What is an eagle doing out in this storm?”
“You must be mistaken. That was not an eagle.”
“It was.”
“Silence!” the figure at the table boomed, pounding on the wood. “It is a sign. An eagle signifies victory.” Stepping back from the table, they ran their fingers over the coarse strands of the rope, tracing the knot they’d tied with their own hand.
“Victory. But for whom…” they mused, their words carried away by the raging storm.
Far below, the initiate continued to climb.