Chapter 49: The Lost Cadet.

Nightfall wrapped around Callie like a suffocating shroud, the darkness pressing in from every direction. She lay on the riverbank, shivering so violently that her teeth chattered. She curled her knees to her chest, huddling against the bitter cold. *Breathe, Callie. Just breathe.* She forced the air in and out, each breath a battle to keep panic at bay.

“Okay… okay,” she muttered, her breath visible in the frigid air. “What would Talon do?” She clung to that thought, as if summoning his presence could somehow bring her warmth and calm.

Images of Talon flashed in her mind—his steady, unyielding gaze, his quiet confidence in the face of danger. She remembered one of his lessons, the way he’d told her to assess her situation, to keep her emotions in check and focus on what she could control. Slowly, she sat up, her limbs stiff and aching, and began taking inventory of what little gear she had.

A knife, a pistol with two spare magazines, and a small survival kit Talon had slipped her as a last-minute addition. She felt a wave of gratitude and murmured, “Thank you, Talon,” as if he were right there beside her. Her hands trembled as she opened the kit, the simple act of going through the supplies grounding her just enough to think clearly.

*I have to get warm.* She knew that was her first priority. She forced herself to her feet, her body rebelling with every step as she scoured the forest floor for dry wood. The eerie silence of the woods wrapped around her, amplifying every crunch of leaves, every snap of a twig. The isolation gnawed at her, but she kept moving, gathering sticks and bits of bark until she had a small pile.

With shaking hands, she struck a match from the kit, her heart pounding as she shielded the tiny flame from the wind. The flames flickered to life, casting a warm, dancing glow on her pale, damp face. She stripped off her wet gear, laying it out near the fire, and huddled close to the warmth, hugging her knees to her chest.

*You’re okay. You’re okay,* she repeated to herself, staring into the flames. But her thoughts betrayed her, spiraling into doubts she couldn’t shake. *What would Ava think?* She imagined Ava’s disapproving look, the silent question of why she’d been careless enough to get lost on her first mission. *Am I letting her down?*

“Stop it,” she muttered, hugging herself tighter. “You can do this, Callie.” But her own voice sounded small, swallowed by the vast, indifferent woods around her.

The hours crept by, and though she fought to stay awake, exhaustion finally claimed her. She drifted into a fitful sleep, huddled by the dying embers, her body seeking whatever warmth it could. When she woke with a start, daylight was filtering through the trees, casting dappled shadows on the forest floor. She blinked, disoriented, her body aching from the cold, her mind still foggy.

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*I fell asleep.* A surge of panic jolted her awake, but she forced herself to calm down, rubbing her hands together to restore feeling. She glanced at the pale light seeping through the canopy and whispered, “What… okay, what direction?” She closed her eyes, steadying herself as she remembered Talon’s advice: find the sun, find your bearings.

“West,” she murmured, watching as the sunlight broke through in thin beams. “I need to go west.”

She pulled on her now-dry clothes, though the chill clung to her bones. Every muscle protested, but she pushed herself to her feet. Her hand instinctively moved to the knife on her belt and the pistol at her side. Her fingers brushed against the hilt, and for a brief moment, she felt a flicker of confidence. *I’m not helpless. I’ve trained for this.*

As she began walking, she forced herself to focus on each step, counting them to keep her mind from spiraling into fear. The forest was dense, alive with the sounds of nature, the faint rustling of leaves, the chirping of birds high above. *They’re just sounds. They’re not out to get you,* she reminded herself, though her heart raced with every unfamiliar noise.

Her thoughts drifted to Ava and Talon, their voices replaying in her mind like a comforting echo. She could almost hear Ava’s steady reassurance, Talon’s teasing encouragement. She clung to those memories, grounding herself in the thought of them, in the promise she’d made to herself to make them proud.

“Don’t fall apart now,” she whispered, her voice a mix of fear and determination. “Keep it together.”

The day wore on as she trudged through the forest, her steps guided by animal trails, her direction checked with her compass. She stayed vigilant, every shadow and movement in the trees setting her nerves on edge. Her senses strained, sharpening with each passing hour as she scanned her surroundings, her body falling into the rhythm of survival.

Every now and then, her mind wandered back to her training, to the times Ava had drilled her on navigation, on endurance, on the importance of keeping a clear head. *She believed I was ready. She trusted me with this. I can’t let her down.*

As the forest stretched endlessly before her, Callie’s exhaustion began to creep back in, her legs growing heavy, her breath coming in shallow gasps. The memory of Ava’s words—“Never let your body tell your mind what it can’t do”—echoed in her thoughts, and she pushed herself onward, her eyes fixed on the path ahead.

After what felt like hours, the faint outline of a trail appeared in the distance. Her heart leapt—a sign of civilization, maybe even a road. It was faint, little more than a line through the underbrush, but it was something. A flicker of hope stirred within her.

She paused, taking a deep breath as she surveyed the path, her voice barely a whisper. “Alright, Callie. You can do this. Just keep going.”

She adjusted her grip on her knife, her mind settling into a state of cautious determination. The forest felt less like an enemy now, its sounds and sights becoming familiar, even comforting, as she forged onward. She was alone, yes, but she had her training, her instincts, and a heart that refused to give in.

With a final look over her shoulder, she stepped forward, each footfall carrying her closer to home, to the people who believed in her and the strength she’d begun to find within herself.

*This wasn’t the end. This was just the beginning.*