"Do you think maybe one day..." the boy began, but then stopped. He knew it was no louder than a whisper. He knew she hadn't heard.

He knotted his fingers and looked down. His small everything shoes- as he had called them- were starting to rot. Black solid sneakers that he had wore to school, church, and everything else was what he had grown use to. His pants hardly differed. Raised by a single mother, not knowing even the identity of his father, the whole cliché poverty story. He was the epitome of it.

The girl beside him was looking forward. Her eyes were set on the holographic image in front of her. She wore casual clothes with a conservative amount of makeup. Her black shirt matched the color of her hair. She wore flats with her kaki pants. Her hair was up, a rooster tail made of it. She puckered her lips brielfy, before running her hand through her hair.

She felt his stare and turned to look at him.

"What?"

"N-Nothing," he blurted out. He was making a clown of himself.

"Was there something on my face?" She asked, a bit of edge to her tone.

"No, no," he said, waving his hands in front of him. He gave a crooked smile.

She resumed her attention on the image. She scrolled up the page, using her fingers to navigate.

He was for a loss of words and breath. Being this close to her made him lose his nerve. She was beautiful. She had no real use for him. Most girls would have had him do their work or write a report. She was on a whole different level.

She spoke a couple languages, opposed to his one.

He had recently applied and been accepted to the company of her father. It was the new technological dream house for 'urds' under privileged nerds. He didn't have the luxury of knowing what it was to be normal.

Of course, neither did the girl to side of him.

She was a new up and coming protégé.

He was just average at most. He felt so out of place in her home. He never thought he'd live to ride in a hovercraft, as he had done the day before to walk into her grand house for the first time.

He pulled out his holo - pad. It was old tech compared to what she had. It was sorely obvious. He was embarrased to be there. Luckily for him, she hadn't commented on what he wore or how he looked. She seemed to carry a very unbiased opinion of him except when it came to his work.

"The system will have to be checked for bugs every so often," she said, bringing him out of his depressed state.

"O-of course!" He sputtered out.

She raised a brow at him before going back to working on her screen.

"There is no need for you to be shy about anything here. My father is paying you to work, not be shy."

He felt his heart sink. That's why she needed him. Work, that was all. In that moment, he dedicated his time to work only and nothing else. He had to work, become better.

♤♡♢♤♡♢♢♤♢♢♤♡♡♢

Malachi's mouth filled with sand once again as he crashed face first into the ground.

"Move! Move!" Yelled one of the Arns intructors.

Malachi rushed to his feet and kept running.

Ahead he saw several other Arns candidates run.

His body had refused to give up. He had tried everything to stop himself from continuing.

Oddly, the islanders had the same metric system he was used to knowing. It was odd blending their form of time and system of measure.

A cycle contained roughly 248 days, or 248 skies. A complete Sky was equivalent to to a month, their week was also 7 days, week being being the being the same being the same word used. Their form of time was oddly variable. It was the name of a currency, another thing he was vaguely familiar with.

A presence contained 10 dimes, same with an absence. A dime contained 36 nickles. Converted to what Malachi knew, it meant a dime contained about 72 minutes, and a nickle contained 2 minutes. It was making more sense to him.

There was also pennies, 80 in a nickle. So half of that would be 40 pennies in a minute. A penny was roughly 1.5 of a second.

He had to finish about 8 kilometers in roughly 20 nickles, and 30 pennies.

He was only on the third kilometer mark when his lungs had started to burn furiously. A kilometer back he had thrown his body on the ground, hoping to stop his legs.

They yielded not, but made him kick wildly at the water washing up on the sandy shore.

He cursed and got back up. Somebody must have done something to my body. It won't stop moving!

He stopped resisting and let his body drive on its own. He kept up with the other candidates, much to everyone else's surprise.

A few instructors barked behind them.

Terx was on scene as a witness. He seemed particularly astounded by Malachi's athleticism, as was Malachi.

Has Agredon possessed my body? Thought Malachi fleetingly.

His legs ran faster. Malachi grimaced and ran forward with wanting to finish as his only priorty. If Agredon has possessed his body, then maybe he would let his body relax when he finished the 8 kilometers.

●□■●□■■●□□■●●●●□●

Hope watched from afar as Malachi attempted to stop his body from moving. He had thrown himself down in hopes of thwarting his legs movement.

Hope was sitting in an opening of some brush, about half a kilometer away from the events of the youngling's entry.

If my dreams are accurate, Hope thought. Then he shouldn't be able to keep up with the other candidates. He was more of a learner, not athletic at all. How is he doing that? Heart alone isn't enough to pass the youngling's entry.

She looked on as his face stopped with grimacing, determination now set on it.

He began to push more and was soon up to par with Banri- the top candidate as stated by a few Arns.

"What do you think his secret is?" Asked a voice beside Hope.

She would have jumped if she hadn't been used to it.

"Must you always attempt to surprise me?" She said, unbemused.

Laughter followed. Hope turned and saw the princess of the island stand beside her. She wore a loose, white dress that came down to her knees, as usual. Her golden hair was loose, except for a braid on the left side of her hair.

She has skill of the Kurrs within her. She had been trained by them when she was younger.

Hope, on the other hand, had training with the Arns.

Yet again another unlikely pairing.

"Has the newcomer caught your interest?" Hope inquired.

The princess, Natalie, laughed.

She covered her mouth with her hand.

"Don't laugh so loud." Hope scorned. "You might give our location away."

Natalie nodded as Hoe removed her hand, winking at her. "I was about to ask you the same thing. Has my deary finally been smitten? I've been waiting for you to find a boy to your liking, my dearest friend."

Hope shook her head. "Those of elder descendants never marry."

"Then wouldn't your line eventually die out?" Natalie asked, a brow raised.

"We've been over this several times, princess. We adopt a new elder every 30 cycles."

"Where do these elders even come from?" Natalie asked, her interest peaked.

Hope crossed her legs and looked out onto the ongoing events.

"The elders have not revealed it to me yet."

Natalie sat down beside Hope and laid her head down on Hope's shoulder.

"When my coronation comes, I shall change that for you. I know you long for a family as I."

Hope gave an indifferent shrug. "I need not your intervention, your highness. I hardly look at the opposite gender. They seem to behave wild and very primitive most of the time."

Natalie grinned. "That boy doesn't seem as primitive as the others, does he?"

"How is Titus?" Hope countered. The faintest of grins almost escaped her as she asked.

Natalie sighed. "I'd rather not lead our conversation down that trail of rough ground. He's been very closed minded. He infuriated me of the talk about executing the outsider."

Hope nodded her head. "It seems we cannot fix ignorance sometimes. Alas, he behaves that way for a reason."

Natalie felt sad at the remembrance. "We were horribly unprepared the last invasion. Titus fears more for the oncoming invasion. Do you really believe this boy is the one to save us from our new threat?"

Hope thought of how to word it. She didn't want to give the wrong answer.

"He has to be that boy. Like many others he has no choice over the matter."

"I hope you're right, Hope. Would you mind if I stayed here for a little while longer?" Natalie asked. "I just wanted a break from all of the council members."

"I suppose so, your highness."

●□■♤♡♢●□♤♤♡♢●

Malachi had crossed the line at third place. Their were 17 candidates in total.

The intructors surrounded them, laughing.

"That was just a warm up!" One jibed.

"This isn't the Kurrs!" Another jeered.

Many of the candidates, including Malachi, leaned forward on their knees for a rest.

Banri was one of the exceptions. He had finished at first and looked to be fine.

"All right, Younglings!" An instructor yelled. "You will now give me 20 pushdowns! It's your lucky day, since we're on sand and not on dirt!"

Did he mean pushup? Thought Malachi. I'm positive that I can manage that.

Malachi saw a few of the other candidates faces fill with determination.

He saw Banri instantly drop down into the planking position, his knuckles on the sand. His face reddened as he dug his knuckles into the sand until the sand reached the top of wrist. He moved sideways, and repeated the proccess on new, undisturbed sand.

Malachi's jaw dropped. Twenty of those?

An instructor saw Malachi's expression and grinned.

"That scare you, boy?" He asked. He wore a red tunic, marking him as an instructor. His hair was green, cut into a mohawk. His arms were ripped, the rest of his body as well. A hideous scar was on his jaw that ran from the right side of his lip to his lower lest chin.

That's scar is very cliché, thought Malachi.

The instructor grinned and came down, punching the sand.

Sand flew everywhere. A few of the candidates stepped back. Malachi closed his eyes, surprised by his sudden action.

Opening his eyes, Malachi saw that the instructor had embedded his arm elbow deep into the sand.

"Imagine doing a hundred of those!" He yelled, a wicked smile on his face.

He pulled his hand out and went on a rampage, scaring most of the candidates.

Malachi simply dropped to his chest and began to do pushdowns.
He was only able to do 12 .

The green haired instructor began to berate Malachi, repeatedly saying he was unable to perform a task a 17 cycled boy could do. Malachi was about 20 and a half cycles old.

Not even the second hour in, and Malachi was being threatened to be washed out.

○●□■♤■□●○

Pre-absence came, the sun setting over the horizon.

The candidates were lined up. The instructors were walking down the line of younglings, mocking them heavily.

Two candidates had already washed out. During the the middle of the sky, they had to swim 500 meters out to shore, then back. An orange floating ball, anchored to the sea floor, was the point of 500 meters.

Malachi remembered momentarily an image of him swimming. A 500 yard swim. He remembered being able to swim it in 11 or so minutes. 500 meters came out to 547 or so yards.
About 22 or so minutes to complete it, he guessed.

When he entered the water, to his surprise it was very cold.

About 300 or so meters out , the water was hot, nearly boiling.

A candidate beside him screamed. Malachi saw him began to panic, then nearly drown. Another Youngling refused to go beyond the cold water. Both were fished out by a very furious instructor.

Malachi was in last place in the swim. As he arrived on shore, he vomited.

He looked at the candidates whose faces were nearly defeated.

Malachi looked at the water. How had he not noticed the steam at the 300 meter mark?

To his shock, he saw an instructor swim out of the water. His tunic was different from the rest, lighter and not made of leather. It consisted of a mesh looking material.

Neoprene lingered in Malachi's head before it disappeared.

His hands were the color of a white hot, then they began to darken to a glowing orange.

He heated up the water with his hands? Malachi thought very puzzled.

A few of the intructors grinned.

"He ain't all he's putting himself up to be. Roast my food tonight with those hands I will!"

A grin cracked at the water intructor's lips. "Bet you couldn't cook as bad as you swim!"

A choir of yells followed.

●■■■♤♤□□■♡♢♧♧♧♢♡■□●●

The rest of the preabscence followed with random sprint races, push downs, lunges, and some grueling abdominal workouts. No others washed out, but few carried their determination as they had earlier in presence.

At the end of the pre-absence, the younglings were shown their barracks.

Malachi instantly fell on his bed. His whole body was sore. He hadn't even introduced himself to his three roommates.

I've made though the first day, he thought. I shouldn't be here. I would have quit on that first run if I had been able to.

Sleep overtook him. He dreamed. In that dream, he was accepted. He was royalty. The next presence would prove how far from reality that was.

End Of Chapter

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