Everyone rushed one way.
Like ants chasing sugar, the other challengers stormed toward the obvious paths—the cliffs with ropes, carved handholds, and faint trails. Safe routes. Predictable routes.
Kael also followed the crowd. But it wasn't my place to worry for him. He had to find his own way.
Then I saw it.
A glimmer of red against the stone. A single Keahi Blossom, blooming high on a sheer cliff where no path led, where no handhold had ever been carved. Its petals swayed in the breeze, bright as flame against the gray wall.
That was the path calling me.
I tightened the wrappings around my palms and pressed a hand to the cliff. Smooth. Treacherous. Impossible—at least for most of them. But not for me. I had the gecko's gift. My hands clung where others slipped, my toes gripped where stone betrayed footing.
"Everyone else can chase each other," I muttered under my breath. "I'll make my own way."
The climb began. My breath steady at first, chest close to the rock, blood thrumming with exhilaration. The island taught us the trials chose us as much as we chose them—and this cliff was mine.
Halfway up, my palm slid against smooth stone. My stomach lurched, but instinct clung fast—fingers catching, spirit holding. A reminder: one slip meant the end.
That's when I felt it.
A presence.
"…You've got an unusual rhythm."
The voice was calm. Carefree. Not strained like someone clinging for their life.
I turned my head—and nearly lost my grip.
He was floating. Upright, hands buried lazily in his pockets as if standing on invisible ground. Long dark hair shimmered faintly where sunlight touched it. Slender, but steady. His face… smooth, sharp, unfairly beautiful. To my annoyance, my face grew hot.
And behind him—wings.
Not ordinary wings.
Lines of runes pulsed across glowing feathers, edges humming faintly, like light strung into sound. They shimmered as though every movement was part of some invisible song. His spirit was alive, radiant, magnificent.
Meanwhile, mine was… a gecko.
I frowned, clinging tighter. "What are you doing here? The trial is individual."
"Flying," he said simply, lips curling into a lazy smile. "And you? Crawling?"
I gritted my teeth and climbed. "Climbing. Earning it."
He drifted higher, keeping pace with me like this was a game. "But why struggle? Wouldn't it be easier to follow the others?"
"Everyone makes their own path," I snapped. "And besides—climbing is easy for me."
"Is that so?" He tilted his head, amused. "Then I'd better hurry and take the flower."
Damn it. I pushed harder, muscles burning. As if reading my thoughts, he slowed again until we were level.
His gaze lingered on me. "Tell me—what song do I look like to you?"
"What kind of question is that?" I muttered, hauling myself higher.
"A simple one." His tone was relaxed, but his eyes were sharp. "Everyone carries a rhythm. How does mine sound to you?"
I risked a glance, mouth dry. He didn't look like anyone from the island. Too untamed. Too free. "You don't belong here."
He chuckled. "Maybe."
We continued—me climbing, him floating—until at last he stretched out a hand and plucked the blossom without effort.
"Not fair…" I muttered through gritted teeth, still meters below.
He didn't answer. Just waited. Patient, calm. Watching as I clawed my way upward, every muscle burning. Finally, I dragged myself over the ledge, panting, sweat stinging my eyes.
He was already seated, cross-legged, twirling the blossom between his fingers.
"So," he asked, voice lilting, "what's your motive? Why climb this far?"
I wiped my brow and forced myself upright. "Because it's a warrior's dream. To join the Order of the Ember. To protect our island. To be one of the strongest."
"Mm." His smile was faint, unreadable. "Admirable. But… predictable."
I glared. "What's yours then?"
His eyes lit with something I couldn't place. "My dream? To hear it all—the music of the outside world. Every rhythm, every song, every sound. To feel what can't be felt here."
"That's it?"
Instead of answering, he tossed the blossom to me. I barely caught it, blinking down at its petals.
"Why… give this to me?"
"You earned it," he said simply, standing. His wings spread, glowing brighter.
And then he rose into the sky, vanishing into light.
I stared, clutching the blossom to my chest. Why? No one would throw away such a chance. I didn't even get his name.
Elsewhere
The boy's hand closed casually around another challenger's throat, lifting him as if he weighed nothing. The man thrashed, kicked, clawed—but the grip never wavered.
With a flick of his wrist, the boy plucked a Keahi Blossom from the pouch of the mans belt and tossed the challenger aside. The body hit stone with a dull thud.
He turned the blossom over between his fingers, smiling faintly.
"Her rhythm…" he murmured. "It was different."