A month had passed since training ended. I could feel it in my muscles—the way my reflexes were sharper, my endurance stronger—but even with all that, I couldn't shake the tight knot of nerves in my stomach as I approached the trial site.
The mountain air was colder than I remembered, and the trail ahead was shrouded in mist. Below, the village looked smaller than ever, swallowed by the dense forest. Dawn streaked the sky with gold and crimson, casting the world in a surreal glow that made my heartbeat pound even faster.
Aria was waiting at the edge of the clearing, her cloak flickering in the wind. She gave me a small nod. "Kael," she said, "the trials begin today. Remember what you've learned."
Ah, yes—the dreaded day had come. I tried to focus only on the first trial and took a steadying breath. I'd spent the last month pushing myself harder than ever—running, sparring, meditating—but standing here, facing the reality of the trial, everything I'd done felt fragile against what awaited me.
"I have to go for the opening ceremony now. Stick with Leilani—she should be able to keep you out of trouble. Okay, bye!" Aria turned and left, her movements brisk. I supposed the title of champion carried more responsibilities than just fighting.
I made my way toward the other challengers. The clearing was crowded, filled with people moving quietly, sizing each other up. Some faces I recognized—the elders—were positioned atop the highest points of the clearing. I guessed that was where Aria would go.
Their eyes flicked toward me as I moved through the crowd, and I could feel their wariness, their judgment. I wasn't exactly welcome here—but that was expected. Who wanted a newcomer disrupting the balance before the trial even began?
I quickly spotted Leilani and made my way over to her.
"You ready for the trial?" I asked, trying to keep my voice steady.
"Yeah, I've been training for a while—unlike someone else," she teased. "Speaking of, how are you feeling?"
It was nice to hear someone cheering for me. Having someone familiar by my side made the trial feel a little less daunting.
"I'm a little nervous, yeah," I admitted, "but I haven't been just sleeping lazily this past month either. I reckon I've got a chance."
"Yeah. If only the odds weren't so stacked against you…" she muttered with a small smile. I guess I really made a friend here.
"It's fine," I said, trying to keep my confidence steady. "I've got a feeling I'll pull through somehow."
"That's good. You know, my mother always says—a warrior's will to fi—"
Her sentence was cut short by the booming voices of the elders shouting from above.
"Our island's youths! Gather and witness the beginning of this year's trial!"
The air vibrated with their calls. My stomach tightened. This was it—the trial was officially starting. The shark-tooth elder that I recognized spoke;
"For the Trial of the First Bloom each challenger will have to go up the mountain's cliff and pick one Keahi Blossom each, I will advise you all to be quick and not waste any time, there isn't enough to go around."
"Shall we stick together?" I asked.
"I don't know.. but don't worry, I won't fight you… It's just that I have a plan for this trial, sorry."
"No, it's okay, don't sweat it." Can't deny I was a little disappointed, but I couldn't always rely on others.
The murmurs around the clearing hushed as Aria stepped forward, her cloak shifting in the wind. She carried herself like the warrior she was, but when she spoke, her voice was calm, almost gentle.
"Today," she said, her gaze sweeping across the gathered challengers, "you stand on the edge of a tradition older than any of us. The Trial of the First Bloom is not just a climb—it is a test of your spirit. Each step you take is a step toward becoming warriors of this island. Fight with honor, climb with courage, and may the flame of your will guide you."
A hush fell over the challengers, the weight of her words sinking into all of us. My chest tightened—I wanted so badly to prove myself here.
Then Aria's tone shifted, rising with sharpness. "The rite begins now! Go!"
Her shout cracked the air like thunder. Instantly, the challengers surged forward, a wave of bodies pushing toward the mountain's base. Gravel crunched, voices shouted, and the mist-shrouded cliff seemed to loom higher than ever.
I ran with them, feet pounding against the earth, but something caught my eye. To my right, Leilani wasn't following the rush. Instead, she darted off toward a narrower trail that curved away from the main climb. Her hair snapped in the wind as she disappeared into the fog.
I wonder what her plan is…
I hesitated only a second before following the main group. I couldn't afford to lose time, and besides—my path was my own. The cliff face rose like a jagged wall before us, sharp and unyielding. My heart hammered as I reached the first ledge and pulled myself upward, stone scraping my palms.
The trial had begun.
Mist clung to the mountain's face, thick enough that every breath burned cold in my lungs. The path ahead was narrow and slick, winding upward like a snake through the rock. I could hear the others—grunts, boots striking stone, the faint clatter of weapons—but none of them were close enough to see. That was both a relief and a threat.
The elder's words echoed in my mind: "there isn't enough to go around"
My hand crawled into a fist. I wasn't naïve enough to think everyone would play fair.
The first stretch was a blur of movement—pushing past uneven slopes, leaping across gaps where the path had crumbled, forcing my legs to move faster than my doubts. My breath came ragged, but every time I wanted to stop, I reminded myself: If you fall behind, you won't make it to the flower at all.
By the time I reached a flat ridge, my arms were trembling. I crouched low, trying to steady my breathing, when I felt it—eyes on me.
Too late.
A shadow moved from behind a jagged boulder, and a challenger lunged. His hands shoved hard into my chest.
The world tilted.
I staggered backward, boot slipping on the wet stone, the cliff edge yawning behind me. Instinct roared through my veins—I twisted, slamming my foot against the rock to stop my fall, and shoved back. My shoulder drove into him, knocking him off-balance instead.
He cursed, scrambling to regain footing, but I was already moving. A flash of Leilani's stance came to mind—low, coiled, ready to spring. I mimicked it clumsily, feet spread, knees bent, arms loose.
The boy rushed me again, this time swinging a fist. Sloppy. Desperate.
I ducked under it and rammed my elbow into his side. He wheezed, folded over, and I shoved him hard to the ground.
For a second, we locked eyes. His were wide, more fear than fury. He hadn't expected me to fight back.
"Guess I'm not easy prey," I muttered to myself, and ran.
The mountain stretched higher, mist swallowing the next bend. My pulse thundered, but one thought steadied me—
That was just the first. There will be many more to come.
The path narrowed again, just wide enough for one person at a time. Roots jutted from the earth, slick with morning dew, and every step threatened to trip me if I lost focus. My lungs burned from the climb, and sweat stung my eyes.
The forest around the trail was eerily quiet—no birds, no insects, only the distant sound of shifting rocks as other challengers fought their way upward. Somewhere above, I swore I heard the ring of steel.
I pushed on, hopping over a fallen log and pressing myself against the cliff wall where the path dipped dangerously close to the edge. The mountain wasn't killing us outright, but it was testing us every step of the way. And then there was the real danger: the challengers themselves.
A faint crunch echoed behind me.
I spun, but too late—a spearhead glinted in the mist, thrusting straight at my chest. I twisted, the point grazing my sleeve instead of skewering me. The attacker stepped fully into view, a lean boy gripping the shaft with both hands, his stance shaky but aggressive.
"You're not getting that flower, outsider," he hissed. His knuckles were white against the wood.
Before I could answer, another shadow cut me off from the front. Broad shoulders, a body coiled like a spring, faint glowing lines pulsing across his arms. Body Arts. His eyes locked on me with the same hunger.
My throat went dry. Two of them.
The spearman jabbed forward again, wild and impatient. I barely managed to sidestep, my boots skidding across the dirt. The second boy lunged in the same heartbeat, fist cocked back and glowing faintly.
I ducked, the punch sailing past my head with enough force that the wind stung my cheek. Stone cracked where his fist landed. He was strong, but I didn't feel the same pressure from him like the one I felt from the body temperer I fought when I first got here.
Panic surged. I couldn't win this head-on. My only chance was to make them trip over each other.
I dropped low into a stance I'd seen Leilani use countless times during training, knees bent, body light. My movements weren't perfect—too stiff, too hesitant—but it was enough to keep me moving.
The spear jabbed again. I twisted aside, but the shaft clipped my arm and sent me stumbling. The boy grinned, emboldened, and drove forward in a flurry of thrusts. Each strike forced me backward until my heels scraped dirt at the cliff's edge.
The other one wasn't idle—his muscles pulsed with light as he dashed in. A kick slammed into the ground where I'd been standing a moment earlier, showering me with dirt and stone fragments.
Two-on-one. They weren't giving me room to breathe.
My arms trembled, but I raised them anyway, mimicking Aria's guard—sharp angles, chin tucked. If I thought too hard about how sloppy I looked, I'd freeze.
The spearman lunged, overextending. I slipped left, narrowly avoiding the point, and shoved the shaft aside with my forearm. Pain stung, but momentum carried me in. I snapped a kick at his shin. He yelped, grip faltering.
The body arts user roared and swung a glowing fist at my head. Too fast. I couldn't block.
I dropped flat, the punch whistling above me, and rolled. His strike cracked into the spearman's shoulder with a dull thud. The spear-boy howled and staggered.
For the first time, I felt an opening.
"Don't stop," I muttered to myself.
I lunged forward. My fist smashed into the spearman's gut, sloppy but fueled by desperation. He doubled over, and I yanked the spear from his hands before tossing it into the brush.
One down.
But the body-arts fighter was still on me. He bared his teeth, glowing veins flaring brighter. His next punch tore a chunk from the rock wall itself.
I couldn't fight him head-on. My bones would snap.
So I moved. Just like Aria had shown me—never where your enemy expects. I ducked, slid, sidestepped, every muscle screaming as I forced my body to keep up. His strikes grew wilder, each miss throwing him further off balance.
Then I remembered something else—Leilani's footwork. The way she circled, never static, always behind you before you realized it. I imitated that dance, rough but fast enough.
He charged, overconfident. I pivoted at the last moment. His own momentum carried him past me. I slammed my shoulder into his back, sending him stumbling forward onto his knees.
Breath ragged, chest burning, I backed away.
The spearman was groaning on the ground, clutching his ribs. The body-arts fighter struggled to rise, fury in his eyes, but he was too battered to keep going.
I didn't wait to see if they recovered. I bolted.
My legs screamed as I sprinted further up the trail, but a strange exhilaration coursed through me. I'd survived. I'd fought back.
And somewhere, hidden in the mist, I heard voices. Whispering. Watching.
They saw me fight.—and somewhere higher up, I could sense the next challenge waiting.