Morning came too fast. The festival's warmth still clung to the air, but it felt empty without the music. My head was heavy, my body sore, but the silence was worse than both. I sighed, "I miss her.."
Malik was already waiting in the courtyard, leaning against a post with the kind of grin that said sleep was optional. Leilani stood beside him, stretching her shoulders, eyes sharp and ready as always.
"So," Malik said, spinning his blade lazily, "how shall we conquer destiny this time?"
Doesn't matter.
Leilani replied "If the trial's about stealing a flame, we need stealth. A distraction, maybe two."
Malik scoffed. "Sneaking is for thieves. We're warriors."
"We need to be smart about this. " she said, rolling her eyes. "Our strength may not pull through in a head-on battle."
I don't care. "We won't know till we try, lets just fight"
She gave me a look somewhere between amusement and disbelief. "You call that plan?"
"Worked so far."
Malik laughed. "Ah, the beautiful simplicity of brute force. Refreshing."
He tapped the hilt of his weapon against his shoulder. "Still, Leilani's right. A team wins this, not one stubborn fool. Which reminds me — there are two others who passed the second trial. We'll need them. I already arranged a meeting."
Will we?
We went to meet them near the upper training yard, where the cliffs curved like stone waves and the air shimmered with heat from the morning forges.
They were a muscular guy and a girl, waiting for us.
The first, Tanoa, was solid muscle wrapped in calm. Ash markings trailed his arms like veins of charcoal. The kind of man who didn't talk much because his fists did it for him.
Beside him stood Mikaia, leaner, quicker, with sharp eyes and a scar nicking the edge of her jaw. She looked at me the way someone looks at an unexpected storm.
"So you're the outsider," Mikaia said flatly. "Our friend was supposed to win that match — he would've joined us in the Rite."
I guess she means the one I fought in the final round. The one I barely beat.
"He was strong," I said quietly.
That answer made her hesitate, just for a second.
Malik clapped his hands. "Well, now you have me, Leilani, our mysterious foreigner, and with you two island prodigies. We'll be unstoppable."
Tanoa's voice rumbled low. "Only if you can keep up."
What started as sparring collapsed into something rawer.
Steel rang. Sand kicked up. Five bodies moved at once — circling, striking, retreating. No rules beyond staying on your feet. No pauses to think. Only instinct.
I nearly forgot we were meant to stop.
Then Malik laughed.
"Well," he said lightly, stepping back as if bored, "this has been delightful, friends."
He rolled his shoulders, weapon lowering at his side. "But allow me my closing act."
The air changed.
He moved — not fast, not slow — but certain. His stance settled, weight sinking, breath aligning with the island itself. When he swung, it wasn't toward any of us.
It was toward the ground.
The strike carved forward in a pale arc, the stone splitting cleanly as a crescent of force tore across the plateau. The shock rippled through the sand, throwing us back on instinct alone.
Silence followed.
Even the wind seemed to hesitate.
I didn't thinkhe was the strongest — I felt it, in the way no one stepped forward.
Tanoa broke the stillness first, voice low.
"Already… the first form?"
"Impossible," Mikaia muttered, breath uneven.
Malik straightened, satisfied, and gestured lazily. "Do carry on."
He stepped aside.
The fight resumed — smaller now, tighter.
Leilani went for Tanoa first, not with power but precision. She circled him, baited his weight, struck at joints and balance. Twice she nearly had him — once even forced him to step back.
But the earth doesn't fall easily.
One mistimed kick. One caught wrist. Tanoa twisted, grounded, and sent her skidding across the sand. She rose instantly, jaw tight, but the exchange was decided.
I faced Tanoa next.
I didn't get hit.
That was the worst part.
Every strike slid off. Every angle failed. I moved, dodged, redirected — but nothing stuck. My knuckles burned. My lungs screamed. His stance never broke.
Eventually, I stopped.
He tilted his head slightly, as if acknowledging the effort. I stepped away, frustrated but intact.
Leilani met me without a word.
Our fight was cleaner. Faster. We knew each other now.
Steel clashed. Footwork tightened. For a while, it was even — strike for strike, breath for breath. Then the air shimmered.
Her spirit answered.
The spectral tail unfurled, shifting her balance, extending her reach just enough. She disarmed me in seconds.
I hit the sand, breath knocked out of me, staring up at the sky.
Last was Mikaia.
She came at me with fury — knives flashing, angles sharp and relentless. I didn't try to overpower her. I ran. Sidestepped. Let her anger overextend.
One missed throw. One step too far.
I swept her legs.
She hit the ground hard, stunned more than hurt. I backed away, hands raised — breathing like I'd stolen the victory rather than earned it.
By the time the moon rose, we were sprawled on the ground in uneven silence, watching the stars appear.
Malik was still smiling. "A fine showing, my friends. I remain undefeated. As nature intended."
Leilani groaned. "You're insufferable."
"Charming," he corrected.
Tanoa just grunted, unimpressed. Mikaia kept to herself, twirling a dagger in her hands.
Malik drifted closer to Mikaia, voice lowering, posture changing in that way of his.
Whatever he said made her stiffen — then relax. She looked away, annoyed with herself.
Leilani noticed. Of course she did.
I stayed quiet. Watching them, listening to their banter — it felt distant, like I was behind glass. The pecking order was clear enough. No one argued it.. We decided to rest for the day after Leilani shared her strategy with the team.
When I returned to Granny Nivara's hut, the air was heavy with incense and seawater. She was mending nets by the window, humming softly.
"How was your new team?" she asked without looking up.
"They're strong enough," I said, dropping onto the mat.
"Strong enough?" Her voice had that tone that meant she didn't believe me. "This trial won't be easy."
I exhaled. "I already beat one of these Oath guys. Darin, the fire-forger or whatever. How hard can it be?"
She chuckled — low, knowing. "Just don't underestimate what's ahead of you."
"Yeah… you're right." I rubbed my neck. "I need rest. Big day tomorrow."
"Tomorrow?" she said, setting the net aside. "Child, the Rite begins at midnight."
"…What?"
She smiled faintly. "Don't worry about it. The island ensures the trials are fair."
Was sparring a mistake? We were all tired now. I muttered something like "okay" and laid back.
Sleep came quickly — or maybe the island took it from me.
When I opened my eyes again, the world was blue.
No voice called me, but something did — an instinct, a tug. It didn't speak, but I understood it anyway: it's time.
I walked. My steps felt lighter than they should've, the aches from training gone. The air was warm, carrying the hum of the earth beneath my feet.
The path led to a cave carved into the cliffside, glowing faintly like the mouth of some great beast.
They were all there already — Malik, Leilani, Tanoa, Mikaia — gathered by the entrance, faces caught in the moonlight.
"You look alive for someone who got pummeled yesterday," Leilani said.
"I don't feel tired," I admitted. "Even the bruises are gone."
Malik said something to Mikaia under the moonlight. I didn't catch it — or didn't care to.
She rolled her eyes, then failed to hide the hint of a smile.
Some people cope with pressure by sharpening their blades.
Malik copes by being Malik.
Leilani rolled her eyes. "Focus. We should move."
The cave was larger than I'd expected — warm, echoing, the air thick with the scent of sulfur and salt. We walked single file, torches flickering along the walls as if the stone itself breathed.
Tanoa led the front, steady and silent. Leilani followed, alert. Mikaia kept near Malik. I took the rear, listening to their footsteps fade into the rhythmic drip of water.
No one spoke to me. I didn't expect them to. Guess I'd always be an outsider in some eyes. Didn't matter. I had bigger problems ahead.
We walked for a while then the tunnel widened, and suddenly the world opened up — a vast chamber of crimson stone and molten light.
At its center burned a great flame, rising from a basin carved with ancient runes. Before it stood a man.
He was tall, scarred, his hair the color of burnt gold. His expression was calm, but his presence pressed against the air like heat itself.
He didn't move.
Didn't raise his weapon.
The flame behind him burned steady, unchanged.
Then he spoke.
"I am the guardian of the flame," he said. "And I will be the one to test your worth."
Malik's grin faltered, eyes widening in realization.
"...Fuck" he whispered.