Bravos Pathfinder

Sunniva climbs up the cliff after me. She hoists herself up to the small ledge where I'd sheltered to catch my breath until she joined me. She sits down beside me, sucking on a mint lollipop, and hands me a tube of sugared almonds. I pop a handful in my mouth, wondering why she chose these kind of sweets instead of dried fruit and granola bars. Well, we're at the halfway point. Looking down below, the fjord already seems far away, while above our heads, the peak is still far from conquered. But I have to say, the climb has been nice. This kind of training is always cool, especially when the company is as well. Unlike in other pairs, Sun isn't in perpetual showdown mode. It's like she took on all these challenges for herself, not to be better than everyone else no matter what.

At any rate, her technique seems to work. Reconnaissance, orientation, survival… She's top-ranked in quite a few different areas—the instructors' pet, so to speak, while I'm usually languishing in the middle of the pack or at the bottom. Maybe I should ask her for advice? Ahhhh. To think that once we get up there, our torture will just be starting… The Bravos call this place the Chasm, and as I look at the vertiginous canyon, it lives up to the name. Up there we'll have to deal with a whole maze of landings, pulleys, and mechanisms, each nastier than the last. Last time, Sun made it almost three-quarters of the way, while I only managed a third of it. Good thing the Yzmir placed Sigils to slow our fall—it would've been a whole other ball game if every wrong step meant dropping like a stone a couple of hundred feet down…