Only the fool will jump off the cliff.
That's what I tell myself, over and over, like a chant to keep my heart from bursting out of my chest. I'm trying to be logical, to keep my thoughts neat and orderly, but logic starts to slip when the wind claws at your clothes and the ground with Bermuda looks like a dream you might never touch again. I hate heights, have always hated them. The kind of hate that comes from a memory too old to name, but enough to make my legs feel hollow just standing near the edge.
A candidate with square glasses steps back, slowly, as if the air itself might grab him. He starts calculating the drop and thinks it's around 150 to 200 feet.
Next to him, a girl stares straight ahead, as if her mind has already left her body behind.
Others aren't nearly as rattled. Some laugh, forced and too loud. I see a group of boys pushing one of their own toward the edge, pretending like they'll shove him. Classic defense mechanism. Fear disguised as fun. No one wants to be the first to crack.
"What do they expect us to do?" someone behind me mutters.
Lee folds her arms, squinting at the rocks below. "There must be a rope. A stair. Something."
I hope she's right. Gods, I really do.
"There's nothing," Zoren says, sounding too calm. "I checked both sides while you were staring."
Of course, he did. His hair's windblown now, and he says the height made him dizzy. I haven't even looked over the edge yet, but I believe him. The sound of the ocean below is enough.
"Listen up," a versatile voice of a man heard behind us.
We turn as someone steps through the same bushes we emerged from, not a candidate this time, but taller and broader. And build like someone who doesn't hesitate when told to leap. He's wearing the same black cadet uniform as the woman back at the chamber door. He stops at the front, just before the cliff's edge, and scans the crowd. Us. Then he speaks.
"I'm Cadet Felix. One of the division leaders has been assigned to oversee your progress. And in case any of you are still confused…" He gestures to the drop. "Yes. This is part of the trial."
A few candidates exchange glances. Others are just standing still there. Someone at the back coughs.
Lee leans in and whispers, "He's…hot."
"Yeah…" Subconsciously, the word slips from my lips.
Buzzcut, sharp jaw, that kind of tanned skin looks like he lives outside, and those greenish-blue eyes that pin you in place like you've done something wrong. I wonder how many girls he brought back to his dormitory. How many of them got fall asleep tucked into those damn biceps.
Damn it, Lee's right. He is hot. Hotter the sun right now.
"Reaching the campus isn't just a matter of walking through gates. You have to earn your way in. The cliff is your first filter," Felix says, and I hear a few sharp intakes of breath.
First filter. As if this isn't even the trial yet. Just the barrier to entry. Just the door.
"But… is it safe to jump?" one of the boys asks, pointing down. "Even with the water? That's a long fall."
Felix's chin up slightly, looking at that guy with a straight face. "Why don't you try and see?" he says, and the guy goes silent.
"He sounds like the kind of guy who sleeps in his uniform and calls it discipline," Zoren whispers behind, and I hold back my smile even though I'm a bit too tense to mean it.
Felix continues, looking around again. "Let me make this clear...those who hesitate to jump are not destined for this division. If you're doubting yourself now, do everyone a favor and step aside. The military doesn't need passengers."
"He really said jump or leave," Lee whispers.
Yes, he did. And the worst part, he meant it. He meant every word since the lovely lips of his spoke. That buzzcut, that sun-bronzed skin—he could've been carved from stone by the gods but that voice, that command? It was real. No softness there.
A girl near the front mutters, "This is insane" Someone beside her agrees, and it would be nice for them if they didn't open their mouth. Felix hears it.
"Insane?" he repeats, not rising his voice. He doesn't need to. The tone alone stills us. "What did you think this was? A written exam?" His eyes sweep over the group. Calm, exact. Like he's sorting us already—who will jump, and who won't. "You chose Military," he continues. "That means grit. Action. No one's going to hand you a safety rope."
The air goes still. Not just around me—but inside me. Like everything is pausing for the decision we're all too scared to make.
Then Felix steps forward, a half step toward the edge, his arms loosely folded behind him.
"I need a first jumper. Who's going?" he asks.
"Me." The word leaves my mouth without warning. Too late to stop it. Everyone's eyes on me, including Lee's.
"Wait—you?" she blurts, eyes wide.
Zoren, who's been standing behind us, speaks, "You sure about that?"
The truth is…I'm not sure. I just want to leave this cliff and finally proceed to the trials. I nod, hoping the motion looks firmer than I feel.
"Someone has to go." The words feel bigger than they are. Like saying them makes it true, even if my gut's twisting. Standing here too long feels worse than jumping.
Lee's brows draw in, her eyes flicking toward the edge. "At least wait until someone tests the water first," she mutters. "What if it's rocks down there?"
I want to tell her I'm scared, too. That maybe I should wait. That maybe she's right. But if I stop now, I won't go at all. And I can't afford to be that version of myself again.
Then Felix speaks, and just his voice makes everyone still. "Step forward."
He's looking straight at me. And something else too—like he's measuring if I'll hold up or fold. I do as he says. One foot, then another. Each step feels like walking deeper into something I don't understand. I don't look at anyone else. I keep my eyes forward, on him.
"Closer," he commands.
The wind's stronger here. The sea louder. I feel every stare behind me—some silently begging I mess up first. My heart's thudding so hard it might bruise my ribs from the inside.
"Name?" he asks.
I open my mouth, then stop. It's such a simple thing. My name. But it's stuck. I didn't expect to hesitate now, not with something so basic, but…now I'm really looking at him. Up close.
Damn. I don't even reach his shoulder. He has to be more than six foot two, easy.
"Is telling me your name the hard part?" He lifts one brow and his tone isn't mean—but it nudges me that I'm standing at the edge of a cliff, in front of less than hundred candidates, and silence isn't helping.
"Ella," I swallow.
"Alright, Ella." He steps to the side, just far enough to clear the path. The edge is open now. "Whenever you're ready."
I take a step toward the cliff's edge and I see the ocean below churns, gray-blue and merciless, but still strangely quiet from up here. The wind picks up again, cold against my skin. I can feel it push against me like it's daring me to move. This moment, reminds me of my high school.
The height isn't as extreme, but the feeling and helplessness are the same. I was fifteen. I remember standing on the edge, the concrete still warm under my sneakers, while three girls pushed and jeered behind me. It was supposed to be a joke.
However, this isn't then. This isn't that rooftop. No one's laughing. I'm not frozen this time. I'm here. I chose this.
"Fuck memories." I jump off the cliff.
Gaps from behind follow.
The air grabs me first.
It rushes past my ears like a scream I didn't let out. My stomach lifts, flips. For a split second, I forget which way is up. The wind roars, and the world becomes motion. Sky, sea, and light, spinning into blur as I'm falling so fast. Then, impact. Cold slams into me like a wall. The ocean doesn't cushion. It takes. I plunge deep, water rushing around my limbs, stealing the breath from my lungs.
I kick. I rise.
When I break the surface, I suck in air like it's the first breath of my life. My arms move, treading water. The salt burns in my nose, and my dress clings heavy to my skin.
"She made it!" someone yells.
"Ella! You're crazy!"
I tilt my head back and squint against the light. From this angle, they're all just shadows lined up at the cliff's edge. I spot Lee's outline. Zoren's beside her. And Felix…just watching.
I grin, wide and free. The kind of grin I haven't felt since before fear took up space in my ribs. Then I laugh. Real, loud, and unfiltered.
"Still alive!" I shout.
After the successful fall, I turn to the shore. I'm treading water, heart still pounding, but lighter now. The water carries me until my feet finally find the ground. Salt stings my lips, and my breath comes in bursts. Then, a hand reaches out to me.
I blink the water from my lashes and look up. Blonde hair pulled tight, not a strand out of place. Eyes like polished steel.
The cadet at the chamber door.
I take her hand, and the moment our fingers lock, she turns her head and shouts. "First Jumper, Ella Sanford!"
My heart stutters. She didn't even ask. Not like Felix did. She already knew.
"Welcome to the real test," she says.
The real test.
We pass a line of jagged rocks, slick with seaweed, and head toward a clearing of sand. Two other cadets are standing there, one tall, dark-skinned with a short journal tucked under one arm, the other paler with a sharp, angular nose, holding a second logbook and writing something down. Neither speaks, but both look up as we approach.
To our left, ten upside down canoes. Long enough to hold five, maybe six.
I wipe water from my face with the back of my sleeve, and suddenly, a shout—distant but falling fast. Then, splash.
Another body crashes into the sea, this time with a little more chaos than mine. I turn quickly, squinting back toward the water. A second jumper.
Zoren? I smile, small and instinctive.
I wait, watching the surface. Sure enough, a shape breaks through—head rising, arms moving in the water. He doesn't shout. Just floats for a moment, like he's catching his breath.
The blonde cadet steps forward again, raising her voice toward the line of rocks. "Second Jumper!" she calls. "Name!" No response from the water. She doesn't wait. Her voice rings out like a bell: "Thalric!"
The name slams into my chest. My smile drops. I go still. That name…It can't.
He walks out of the sea like it's nothing. Drenched, grinning. He doesn't look at the cadets. He looks at me. That same scar, just below his left eye, thin and sharp like a brand burns into view. I put it there. Now, my feet won't move. I can't look away as my hand curling into a fist. He smirks, brushing water from his face as he steps closer, eyes never leaving mine.
"Didn't think I'd let you run that far ahead, did you?"
Thalric Dornevale.
He's here.
He found me.
And he's walking straight into the trials.