"A Skyborn?” For a moment, I thought he might be the musical fellow from the canoe, but no—this one's feathers were yellow with a golden sheen.
"He's probably been waiting a while," Rosamae said, hopping over one of the pools. "Come on!"
I followed at a trot across the stone landscape, pockmarked with holes of varying sizes. Each pool held its own mysterious depths and creatures: tiny azure fish swimming in perfect circles, each pulsing with inner light; an eel crackling with purple electricity that watched our approach; blood-red starfish with ten arms and jutting spikes. The pools seemed bottomless, their true depths hidden by the sky's reflection.
As we approached, the Skyborn remained absorbed in his reading, the salty wind ruffling his feathery hair and loose vest. I couldn't help but smile at our potential team's diversity: Rosamae, one with the earth; myself, a water dweller; and now a Skyborn. What other team would have such variety?
But my smile faded as darker thoughts crept in. If we won and made it inside the shrine, would we all receive the goddess's gift? The artifact of power? Or would only one of us be chosen? And if we lost… Could I really be patient enough to find another way home? Or would I fight temple acolytes on my way inside? My breath shuddered out as we reached the Skyborn. Would I really kill to get what I needed?
I pushed the thoughts aside as Rosamae made introductions. “Morning, Flint! This is Zale," she said, gesturing to me.
"Good to meet you.” I offered a nod.
The Skyborn raised his chin, looking down his hooked, beak-like nose as his eyes traveled from my face to my feet and back again. "He'll do," he said in a nasally, congested voice. "Though I was hoping for a full-blooded Tidewalker." He addressed Rosamae, as if I didn’t exist.
Rosamae's hands found her hips. "What does it matter if he's not a full Tidewalker? He can swim—that's all that matters." An edge had crept into her tone, and I didn't blame her. Our new partner was already rubbing me the wrong way.
But I kept quiet, eyes on Rosamae. I knew how this guy saw me—as lesser. It was painfully familiar. But there was no point in demanding respect or widening the rift that already existed. This was just a moment, this man just a stepping stone to my true goal: getting home.
"The competition will be different this year," the Skyborn said, snapping his book shut and tucking it under his arm, eyes fixed on Rosamae. "Swimming is still significant, but a notice came out this morning concerning the island we’ll be traveling to.” He turned to point toward the distant shoreline where fog drifted across the water's surface. As the climbing sun burned away mist, an island emerged from the haze.
"Is that a tower?" I asked, noting the strange spire jutting from the landmass.
"Indeed. This year they're testing combat skills as well as athletic ability." He glanced at Rosamae. "You know what's in that tower?"
"The Climb of 100 Trials. Yes, I'm very familiar with it."
"First one to the top wins," he said. "So I doubt anyone's attempting this solo." He pulled out a folded paper. "I copied down the recipe for our first mask." He held it out to Rosamae.
Tempest Mask (Rare)
- Effect: Increases movement speed by 50%, grants immunity to slow effects, but drains stamina and MP continuously.
- Stamina Drain: -5 stamina every 2 seconds.
- MP Drain: -10 MP every 2 seconds.
- Durability: 60 / 60
This narrative has been purloined without the author's approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.
"And count yourself lucky," Flint added, examining his hooked nails. "That information isn't meant to leave the academic library."
"I can't even get into that library," Rosamae said as she passed me the paper. "Academy students only."
I studied the illustration—a frowning face like a cloud with streaks trailing behind, suggesting forward motion.
"There are books about the shrine in the academy library too," Rosamae added, glancing at Flint. "Books he's read."
My heart leaped. "Have you read anything about what's actually inside? About what it can do?"
Flint looked down his nose again. Rosamae punched his shoulder. "Don't be such a jerk!" she said, half-joking but with clear irritation.
"It's fine," I said, waving her off, though my heart was racing. "Have you read anything?"
"The books claim it was built to reference a goddess, but there are other theories. None of which I believe.” He gave an insufferable little laugh. "Do you think I'd be involved for mere fables? I'm in this for the scholarships. The academy promised full tuition to the winners. A visit to the shrine is just a pleasantry."
Rosamae rolled her eyes. "There is something spectacular inside. I've read journal accounts from a hundred years ago—remember what we discussed last night? The winners who entered never came out. Some say they ascended to the heavens!”
I nodded, warring emotions churning in my gut. The possibility of a goddess or a relic that could grant wishes thrilled me, and I wanted to get inside…but did we really need this arrogant partner? What about that musical Skyborn from the canoe? He seemed far more reasonable than this pretentious brat, who even now was yawning as if our conversation bored him.
"Run along now," he said, waving me off like a dog. "Get started on the mask. I expect it finished within two days." He turned to Rosamae. "We need to plan our tower strategy immediately. There are threats inside that—“
"I want to be part of this.” I stood my ground, lifting my chin. “If we're going to be a team, I should be treated like an equal.”
He snorted. "Equal? It's bad enough I have to work with a half-blood like you."
That last word struck like a dagger to my chest, an anchor dragging up countless memories of middle school bullies spitting similar slurs, hating me for my mixed heritage. Flint continued talking, but as his nasaly voice droned on, I couldn't his words over the blood rushing through my ears, drowning out all reason.
[ Hydrokinesis]
Outer Flow
- MP Cost: 10
- Effect: Manipulate up to 1 cubic meter of water within 10 meters.
- Water Whip: Deal 15 damage with a lash of water.
The turquoise tattoos along my arms shimmered as I reached toward a tidepool, activating hydrokinesis. I felt the water like an invisible extension of myself, but I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, trying to calm my hammering heart. This is a stepping stone. I only have to put up with this idiot for a week, then I’m out of there. Then Flint said—"Run along now, little Beachstrider"—and something in me snapped.
I swung my hand. Water followed the arc, slapping Flint across the face. He squawked, stumbling sideways as Rosamae shouted in surprise.
"If you're going to keep talking to me like crap," I roared, vocal cords shredding, "you can make the damn mask yourself!" I spun on my heel, heart jackhammering as I stomped away.
Rosamae shouted—not at me—then yelped. The sound sent alarm racing through me. I turned to see her staggering back, shoved aside by the Skyborn who now stood with wings spread wide, eyes blazing. Wind swirled around him, made visible by lingering mist.
With a growl, he lunged toward me and flapped his wings. Golden feathers shot out like blades, ripping into my flesh.
[-15 HP]
[Status Effect: Bleed (Minor) - Lose 5 HP every 30 seconds]
I roared as Flint spun then flapped again, throwing out a gust of wind. It slammed into me and forced me back. I hit the ground and rolled into a pool, floating face-down. Glowing fish scattered as I stared into the black depths, lungs refusing to work. Then, with a sudden gasp, I drew water through my gills.
Despite the ringing in my waterlogged ears, I heard approaching shouts. I spun just as Flint landed at the pool's edge, sharp golden feathers swirling around him. A large welt bloomed red on his face, but his eyes burned brighter, like flames flickering in a skull.
He screamed something wild, but it was lost to the pounding in my ears. He raised one hand, mist coalescing around his dagger-like feathers. Just as he prepared to strike, a blur shot from the side and slammed into his face. I flinched, sinking deeper into the pool, muscles unresponsive. For a moment, I thought Rosamae had attacked—but no. A sand crawler had wrapped itself around the Skyborn's neck, biting his nose.
He screamed, staggering back and clawing at the creature's armored body. A familiar crack ran across the back of his carapace shell—the same one I'd seen earlier, the same crawler I'd saved.
[-5 HP]
I let myself sink away into darkness, soul feeling hollow and scraped raw by that sudden violence. Deeper and deeper I drifted, into the endless black of the tidepool's depths, wishing the cool embrace of the water would wash away the heat of my shame.