The wind cut across my face like small blades, slipping through the worn fibers of my hood and raising goosebumps along my neck. It was restless — insistent — as if the Festival were calling me in or pushing me away before I even entered. I don't know. I only know it felt more like a warning than a welcome.
I stepped past the main gate with measured strides. My dark-blue shirt, as old as my patience, thudded against my thin chest. The light-colored pants moved with it, too worn at the folds, and my brown boots creaked with every step, betraying weeks of hard training. My hands? Steady, calloused… yet they trembled at my sides, fingers clenching and opening without permission.
— I can't miss this… — I whispered.
The Red Market
I crossed the cramped market, the air thick with a silence that wasn't silence — it was swallowed fear.
Everyone there clutched something they tried to sell, trade, save.
A hunched old man stretched out a dull stone in his trembling palm.
— It arrived yesterday from the Black State… — he whispered, as if afraid the stone might hear.
Farther ahead, a woman with her arm wrapped in bandages offered a silver necklace for a stone nearly gone dark.
No one looked at her. Then I saw the new vials at Mr. Lano's stall. Shiny. Colorful. A lie, maybe.
But it was the only lie I still wanted to believe.
I stepped closer. He raised his eyes, and the sigh escaped before he even opened his mouth.
— Kid… third week in a row, huh?
I took a blue vial without answering.
— I've told you, Ark. Those are from the south. Same formula as always. They don't cure even a headache.
I turned the vial between my fingers.
The light reflected too beautifully to be true.
— Last week you said something might come from the north — my voice came out hoarse, almost against my will. He lowered his gaze to the cloth he kept wiping over and over.
— I said "might." Maybe it didn't arrive.
Sorry, kid. Only what the Sentinels allow gets in here.
— And if I pay in advance? — I insisted, pulling the last three coins from my pocket.
— Keep it for me if something decent shows up.
He looked at the coins, then at me —
at my sunken face, at the neck my shirt no longer hid from the bones.
— Save that money for food, Ark. You're fading away.
Your sister… does she still recognize you like this?
That hit deeper than any punch in the arena.
— She does — I answered quietly. — For now.
He pushed the coins back into my hand and closed my fingers over them.
— Then spend it on bread. Or on a ticket far from here.
But don't spend it on me.
I don't have what you need.
I returned the vial. My hands were shaking.
Mr. Lano lowered his eyes.
— I'm sorry I can't be useful, Ark. Truly. But I don't have it.
— Good luck, kid — he murmured.
— To both of you… before it's too late.
I took a step back, already turning away.
The roar of the crowd in the square exploded at that exact second — as if the whole world had been waiting for me to hear that.
The arena had begun.
So I followed the path to…
The Square
The stage was still breathing smoke. Heat rose like a harsh warning, and the crowd instinctively shrank back around the man standing firm at the center.
The official presentation had ended. One last figure remained on the wooden stage.
Jion.
He pulled back his black hood, revealing a face carved from stone: firm, cold, precise. Short blond hair reflected the flames. His eyes seemed to choose who deserved to breathe.
— Welcome to the Festival of Chiulrom — he announced. — I am Jion, Sentinel Devanador.
He raised his fist.
No visible tension.
And clenched it in the air.
There was no sound — only impact.
The ground trembled, the wood groaned, the pillars vibrated. A translucent wave crossed the stage, forcing everyone to step back.
My feet took a step back.
The rest of me moved forward.
The air grew heavier, as if something wild had been released there.
I had never seen Chi like that.
The crowd held its breath.
— Those registered, prepare for the Aptitude Test. — Jion crossed his arms. — Good luck. You'll need it.
Typical.
Then screams burst out behind me — a Sentinel shoving people aside, running.
And Jion tried to continue the speech.
I let out a sigh that was too loud.
— Even in the middle of this… a speech. Absolute boredom — I muttered.
A boy laughed beside me.
— Thought I was the only one who thought that.
I didn't answer. Just kept walking.
He murmured, low enough not to be an insult, loud enough to land:
— Wow… that face. You look like you lost someone.
My chest locked up. But I kept going.
On the Way to the Tent
People cheered, argued, feared. I only dodged around them.
A little girl lost her red balloon. It rose slowly, defying weight, gravity, logic — and I stood watching. So light. So… impossible to hold.
I watched for a while, standing there like an idiot.
Someone bumped into me, apologizing. I barely heard it.
I walked a little more.
Then I quickened my pace.
The Devanador handling registration stared at me with boredom.
— Hand. Paper.
I gave it to him.
— I didn't even take that long… want me to smile too? — I murmured.
He locked eyes with me.
— Watch your tongue, kid. Disrespect is expensive.
He examined the paper.
— Valid registration. South arena, corridor three. — He sized me up. — Your step betrays a badly slept night.
He stepped closer.
— Are you sure about what you're doing?
I took a deep breath.
— I am.
Another Devanador shouted from behind:
— HEY! His opponent's tired of waiting! Send the kid already!
The tutor made a sharp gesture.
— Go. Don't waste my time.
I went.
The Arena
The sand grated under my brown boots.
The crowd shouted:
— Look at the blue rookie!
— Last year he couldn't take two punches!
I breathed deeply.
Chi vibrated in the air, impatient.
First Fight
My opponent was fast — lean, sweaty, nervous.
He lunged with a translucent punch.
I turned my hip — too late. The fist grazed past, tearing the air from my chest.
His Chi was weak… but unpredictable.
I adjusted my foot. Felt the sand give.
My kick connected clean.
THOK.
He spun in the air before falling. Motionless.
The crowd exploded.
— HOW DID HE HIT FIRST TRY?!
— THAT'S NOT NORMAL!
I just wiped my hands on my pants.
— It wasn't easy — I thought. — It was just fast.
Second Fight
The air changed.
My new opponent was a wall — broad shoulders, bronze skin, a blazing stare.
When he advanced, the ground shook.
I dodged poorly.
The impact tore into my shoulder — and the world tipped sideways. My leg failed for a second too long.
— HE'S ALREADY LIMPING! — someone shouted.
I tried to pull the Chi.
Nothing.
I pulled the Chi.
Nothing.
My chest seized.
The giant smiled.
— It's over — he murmured, advancing.
I breathed hard. Ignored the pain. Forced it.
The Chi answered late — crude — rising like poorly contained fire.
The vibration began at my forehead. Translucent sparks ran down my face.
The air grew heavy.
— His Chi… it's reacting too much… — someone murmured.
He came at me.
I moved forward too.
— He's too fast! — his eyes went wide.
Then—
BOOM.
The Chi explosion came before the punch.
A short wave. Brutal. Invisible.
It ripped through the sand and struck the giant's chest like a battering ram.
He didn't fall.
He was thrown.
The crowd went insane — half shocked, half afraid.
I almost collapsed, but stayed standing.
Chi vibrated in my fist, demanding more.
I controlled it. Breathed.
— HE'S STILL STANDING?!
— THAT'S IMPOSSIBLE!
I almost lost.
And she doesn't have time for "almost."
I left the arena like a ghost.
When the crowd finally faded behind me, the silence began to hurt. The road home felt longer than the day before — maybe because I knew what awaited me inside.
The House
Hours later, the Festival glowed behind me, distant. But my small house — far too silent — broke me before I crossed the door.
Imi lay beneath a thin cloth. Shallow breathing. Lifeless skin. The green stains… now more spread out, framing her face like cracks.
I stopped at the entrance.
Those stains weren't like that yesterday.
For an instant, Imi from before came to me.
Her skin had always been darker than mine. Alive.
Now it looked drained of color. Almost gray.
I approached slowly. The air in the house felt heavy… or just too honest.
She turned her face with effort.
Her eyes still shone — stubborn.
When she tried to speak, the voice barely came out.
I leaned in, bringing my ear close.
— Ark… — she whispered. — I think… the stains are going to spread more…
I closed my eyes for a second.
— I noticed. — I sat beside her, holding her weakened hand. — But if I pass the Festival… if I reach the Masterful City… they have cures. They'll know what to do.
My voice faltered.
— But you have to hold on, Imi. — I squeezed her hand. — I don't want to lose you too.
She tried to smile. A painful attempt.
I squeezed her hand again — as if I could hold time there with me.
— I won't fail. — I promised, even knowing promises don't stop diseases.
— I swear.
Silence answered for her.
I traced my fingers along the edge of the green stain on her face. Cold. Growing.
The Black State — the next step.
I had to try.
And I had to cross.