Malachi sat with a look of exasperation on his face.
Hope inhaled, having to stop herself from slapping him with all her might. His care free attitude was the last thing she needed.
"So what's so important?" He questioned yet again.
Hope studied him a bit before answering.
"Your memories have given me a bit of insight to what evil we will be dealing with."
His eyes showed curiosity at her words.
"How did I arrive on this island then?"
"I've only seen random sections of your life," she explained. "I don't have free will to all of your memories. Therefore, I have not yet seen that part nor am I sure that I ever will."
Malachi relinquished all hope for answers then. They needed a solution to a future problem they assumed was going to happened. He doubted that they truly cared for him.
"How was I before?" came his topic of choice. He would surely entertain himself with her response.
"A hard worker, who lacked confidence and a true direction of effort," Hope said.
Malachi raised a brow. Was there a bit of sentiment in her words. Had his life truly been worse than the one here? That is, of course, if he wish to believe her words. She could just be spouting lies. How could he know?
"So who do you propose is the enemy? Any clues?" Malachi asked, leaning forward with more attentiveness.
Hope sighed, then shared her thoughts.
"I'm positive to the point that I'll swear by the skies that the enemy is directly related to you. It must be. That would only make sense for all these dreams, unless I was meant to discover something about you. Have you something you've not shared with us?"

Malachi thought of Agredon and the transformations his first absences on the island. How did the demon fit into all of this?
Quickly exiting those thoughts, Malachi peered up at Hope who had a brow slightly raised.
I totally went into another world with my thoughts, he realized in self notion.
"You certainly seem in mediation over something," Hope said. "In the mood for sharing it?"
He shook his head, almost to quick for in her inquiry. "Just the Youngling's entry, how I'm going to make it."

"You've been doing exceedingly with the task," Hope inquired. "It's almost as if you've been granted special powers. From my memories, you are certainly a timid person. And you lacked physical capabilities of the average person."
Malachi let out a grin. She was a character, one who saw through many things.
"Maybe I've just been lucky," he said. He saw the twitch in her eyebrow. One would have missed it with a blink. Hope nodded her head.
"Be wise with who you trust," she warned. She was a bit disturbed at his attitude, that he was certain.
"I will," he spoke with a look that appeared to have underlying reasons. "After all, never trust those who visualize with their mouth and lie with their eyes."
A second was still in the air. Malachi could see Hope's eyes widen. A flashback ensued, his brain screaming bloody for the last time.

"You think I ever will remember this again?"
He was asking his supervisor a question that had been answered.
The man looked at him, his eyes irate. His crimson pupils stood out on his pale skin and blonder hair. He stood at six feet tall. His muscles showed under his black long sleeved shirt.
"That's a first. Didn't they brief you on that? Nobody will remember these events. You'll get paid for it. You might remember your service, but your actions will probably not be recorded in history."
Malachi nodded. He was in a black jumper, a bullet proof vest underneath with some exo- skeleton gear to hold his daggers.
He finished hooking up the thin fiber optic to his suit. It was indeed a dangerous job. Looking up at his supervisor, he held out his hand.
The man checked the wrist once over before reaching behind him and pulling out a laser arm.
The Mocc-71 gleaned. It looked straight out of a sci-fi movie with a regular pistol grip and thin upper with 7 inch barrel. The end of the barrel was about 1/2 inch wide and 2 inches long and shaped off at a rectangle at the end.
Malachi took the pistol and holstered it to his side.
"Thratz in one shot or maybe two," he mumbled to himself.

Malachi felt the memory fade. Disoriented, he looked forward. A large arm of sand held him down, chest first on the table.
He strained his head upwards, his vision blurry. Somebody was saying something. A second went by and he heard the end of the sentence.
"...I assume your little tirade is done." It was Hope. She had used the morphing ability of the Arns. He saw the large arm of sand ended at her elbow. Below that, everything was normal.

"What happened?" He asked.

"You had a little seizure," Hope responded. "You lashed out in a weird way. I also was able to witness the last bit of your memory. I guess that's a new ability I've discovered of my own."

She pulled her hand off.
Malachi grabbed at his neck, pushing off the table. It had hurt. Looking forward, he noticed the sand colored arm shrink back to normal size, sand falling off to reveal her gray skin underneath.

"That's what happened last time," he said. "I don't remember all of it, but something similar happened before I was put on trial."

Hope crossed her arms, deep in thought. "Her highness said you acted in a a way that concerned her last time. I understand this was probably what happened. How long have you been experiencing these forceful return of memories?"

Malachi thought for a second. She was able to see part of his memory? Did that mean she could obtain the memories of others? Better yet, recover them?

"Since my arrival on this island," he said. "At least to my knowledge."

Her eyes lit up with recognition. "Malachi, how did you arrive on this island exactly? What was your first memory. Did you wake up on this island without a clue?"

"I-I" Malachi grabbed at his head. It hurt trying to remember. An image did show, but he fought the effects. He willed his body to stay composed.

After the episode, he backed up. He seemed to have recalled some of it.
"I was drowning..."

♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤

The darkness of the forest seemed mystical. Titus looked down once more from the limb he was on. The trees there were quite different from the outer parts of the island. They were gnarled and had a darker color. Their size was vast as well. The limbs reached far and high, intertwining amongst each other. The sky above was blocked out, the occasional ray of sunlight peeking through small openings. The roots were no different, covering most of the ground.

He dropped down, his scarf flapping upwards. Before he could hit the ground, he used dark vector. He was zipping through the air, zig-zagging on a thin dark line in the air.

The line faded out under his feet and he jumped down to land on the roots. Another great landing. The art of the dark spiral was indeed mysterious. The abilities were unbeatable. Even the Arns' morphing techniques stood no chance. Though the leader did argue that point.

Titus clenched his fist. Benjamin...
He should be thankful and owe him his life. Yet there was something that he could never forgive. The last invasion Benjamin had cost the king and queen their lives. It was enough to send Titus over the edge. He was much younger then. Nobody had expected him to do what he had done.

Nearly flinching at the memory, Titus jumped up. He spun and used dark spiral, disappearing in the midst of dark ashes that seemed to travel through the air.

It was said a tree would fall even if there was no one present. In that moment, a body fell. Not much was left of it. It had been crushed and burned into an obsidian coal. The echo was loud and even the dark birds atop of the trees scattered at the sound.

Titus barely heard it as he swirled through the air. He knew to put more energy in his ability to get away from the area. Whatever it was, it wasn't worth waiting to discover. He knew better.

♤♡♡♧♤♡♢♧♤♡♢♧

Malachi rubbed his neck continously as Hope led him out of the hut. Hope hadn't said much after the events. She only said to keep their conversations secret and the other actions that occurred.
They walked along the beach in silence. Malachi spotted all of the candidates circled around a makeshift platform. It had been constructed of hardened sand. Another ability of the Arns' he supposed.  Alchemy... The word popped into his mind then left.

He decided not not to think much of it and instead focused on all the ruckus.

Hope stopped a few yards away from all the commotion. She urged him forward to stand with the other candidates. Malachi hesitantly broke away from her and became one with the group.

The platform was a bit smaller than he anticipated upclose. It was 10 yards by 10 yards. Steps led up to it on ether side, and a large wall coming  up 3 yards from behind.

He looked to the left and saw his team nearby. Irvin was talking to the twins, a look of anticipation on all three faces. Even Banri looked a bit worked up to Malachi's surprise. He was about ask what was about to happen, but his answer followed suit.

A dark pillar of ashes formed on the stage, swirling clockwise then coming together to condense the pillar. They dispersed outwards, revealing the princess of the island, Natalie. The ashes quickly faded.

The act was so quick. All of those in attendance dropped to one knee. It was fluid. Malachi was taken by surprise. He made eye contact with the princess. She was stunning. Before he could take take her beauty all in, his body kneeled and his head snapped downwards. Sweat dripped off his forehead. That had been embrrassing. He hated the feeling. Be invisible, he thought. Be like a drop of water among the rain and sea.

It brought back the vague familiar feeling of when he first saw her. Presuming it had to do with his past memories.

Out of his peripheral vision, he saw ashes form at his side. Bare feet came into his so vision, directly in front of him.

His heart pulsed heavily in his chest, the sound clear in his ear drums. This was not supposed to happen.

"Welcome, candidate. I have yet to formally meet the new islander that everyone has spoken of." The voice sounded sweet, caring. The princess has appeared before him.

"Thank you, your highness," he replied. "I am named Malachi, my last name not known. I am indebted to the people here of the island for caring for me without extreme prejudice. I hope to fulfill my duties on this island which is your abode."

"Arise," came her voice. There where gasp and whispers among the candidates.

Malachi's palms were sweating now. He attempted to stand. His knees nearly buckled. His breathing seem labored.
The princess smiled as he finally stood erect. They met eye to eye, standing at the same height.
She placed a hand on his shoulder and spoke with strength as her feeling. "This abode is your abode, these people are your people. This task is your task. From now on, your happiness shall be our happiness and your sadness shall be our sadness."

Malachi fought back the tears that pricked at his eyes. For the entire time he had wanted to hear something half as generous as the words she spoke.

"Thank you so very much," came his reply.