Cresana took a deep, long breath and looked down at the surface of the water. On its surface, the agitated waves and seablown foam reflected the anxiousness she felt inside. Beneath the waters' surface, its inky dark depths called up to her. She edged closer to the side of the cliff, knocking small pebbles off its edge where they cascaded down to the water. She gulped, trying not to count the seconds it took for the pebbles to break the surface.

She looked over her shoulder. Her classmates clustered in groups, some already wet from their earlier jumps, others staring wide eyed at her as they contemplated their own upcoming trial. Behind them, The Evaluators stood stoically, watching her intently. Their impassive expression and dark robes ignited something in Cresana.

'Don't bother coming home unless you earn your steel,' her father had told her the day she'd left home for The Institute. She remembered the hardness in his voice, the threatening tone with which he'd delivered that goodbye.

She felt an iron resolve coil around her jumpy stomach. 'You've already done this,' she whispered to herself. 'If it's in the blood, it's as good as done.'

She planted her left foot behind her, shifting her weight backwards momentarily, only enough to deliver the thrust needed to send her far enough away from the edge so as not to risk hitting the shale cliff face on her way down. She flung herself forward, relishing the feeling of free falling, willing herself to look at the horizon and not down at the roiling water below her.

She fell for what felt like an eternity, the cold bracing wind roaring in her ears and ripping tears out of her eyes. The darkened horizon – perpetually stormy on this part of the True Sea – swallowing her vision.

She collided with the surface of the water with a force that knocked the wind from her lungs. She sank below the surface, the roar of the wind suddenly replaced by the hum of bubbles and a lower, deeper growl of the waves crashing against the rocky shore behind her. As she sank into the dark, she instinctively gulped a mouthful of salt water. The urgency of breathlessness overtook her. Before her downward momentum had finished carrying her downward, she began grasping towards the surface. She could see weak rays of light above her, so she knew that was up.

At first her grasping was fruitless, but as she eventually counteracted the sinking momentum, she began to swim towards the light. Each stroke was stronger, more determined. She fought the urge to panic and flail as she began to see spots in her vision. She knew she only had a few moments before passing out, but she needed to retain coordinated strokes if she hoped to reach the water's surface. Her limbs were on fire and it took all of her willpower not to inhale more water. Even though she knew this would only facilitate her loss of consciousness, her body's instinctive drive grew more pressing with each passing moment.

After an agonizing few more strokes, her head broke above the surface. Dazed, with her throat and chest seared from the salt water, she gasped and coughed for several moments. The waves made it difficult to stay confidently above the water, but Cresana was a good swimmer, and she buoyed easily on the water's surface.

She looked up at the cliff she had jumped from. At the top (an imposing distance, she realized with a self-satisfied grin), she saw The Evaluators looking down at her. Although their expressions had hardly changed from before, she knew that she had passed the trial. All that was left was to climb the cliff – a small feat after jumping from it but unnecessarily cruel, she thought – and receive her judgment.

Cresana swam to the rocks at the base of the cliff and clambered out. She sized up the cliff face. She had seen her classmates before her choose a path that started directly above a dark bed of kelp lapping at the rock face. Although she hadn't been able to see the path from above looking down, she saw now a few hand holds that looked well worn. She began her ascent.

Cresana had always been a good swimmer, and an even better climber. She attributed this to her summers spent roaming the forests outside her childhood home, nestled in the foothills of the Sikurzoi mountains. The foothills had been dotted with rivers, pouring ice cold mountain water down into the farming lands of western Ravka, and yielded their fair share of hills with rock scrambles. Since she had been old enough to speak, Cresana had known that she would one day go to The Institute, as all in her bloodline before her had done. Her father had encouraged her to spend days, even weeks, at a time alone in the foothills to learn self-sufficiency, survival skills, and how to read the land. Although she had often longed for an easier childhood, one without the burden of ancestral greatness or familial duty, she now threw a silent thank you up to the Saints for her father's diligent if harsh preparation.

As she climbed over the cliff edge, The Evaluators met her in a semi-circle, her classmates clustered behind. The next trainee – a boy named Olariv, she thought – had assumed the starting position at the cliff edge just as she had done, but he wouldn't jump until The Evaluators had given Cresana her judgment. She straightened, trying to control her breathing, and bowed her head, awaiting The Evaluators.

'Cresana Militova, pass.'

The oldest Evaluator – a man they called Dreigo – delivered her judgment. Cresana let her breath – which she'd realized she had been holding in expectation – silently escape her chest.

'It's done,' she thought to herself, feeling her shoulders relax slightly. She raised her head, making eye contact with Dreigo, and nodded in gratitude. His impassive expression did not change, but he returned the gesture with the slightest tilt of his chin. The Evaluators returned their attention to Olariv, who looked a pale shade of green. Cresana accepted a warmed towel from one of the equerries who had accompanied the class to the cliff. She wrapped it around her shoulders gratefully, rubbing the salt water out of her eyes, and took her place next to her classmates to observe the remaining trials. She felt a rare state of calm settle in, and she realized she was one step closer to becoming the sixteenth generation of Militovas to serve in The Blades.