With a loud, meaty thud 715 slid across the padded floor, her workout tank top pulled awry as she skidded to a halt.

“Again! Get up girl!”

Groaning, she rolled over and scrambled to her feet, taut muscles pulsating with each movement. Sweat sloughed off of her, drenching the mat and leaving a trail of slime. With a huff and a spray of spittle and sweat, she calmed her breathing and touched her knuckles to her temples as she took her stance. Arms high, shoulders relaxed, chin tucked, she stepped forward. Left leg staying in the lead, right leg following as the base.

The tatau on her right arm flared to life, mana tracing and activating the family art. With a scooping, shoveling motion she feinted a right handed uppercut as she neared her opponent. At the last moment, she pulled her fist back and stepped into an upward elbow, back leg turning and rotating. Up, up it sliced.

A thick fist found home in her exposed abdomen. 715 spat as she exhaled, hopping back from the force as all the breath in her lungs was flushed. Her world began turning as pain exploded in her thighs. She tumbled, end over end, and landed hard, leaving another sweat angel as she steadied herself.

An electronic buzzing filled the air, shrill and high.

“Next, hurry up boy!”

715 jumped up, hobbling as her thigh seized on her, and gave her brother a tired dap as they passed one another.

Another shrill buzz as the clock reset itself.

“Come on boy, ain’t got all day.”

1202 approached, clenched fists nestled right below his nose. The tatau on his calves expelled mana, inky shadows quivering as his feet dug into the mats. Ducking and weaving, staying on the balls of his feet, one jab, two jabs. Jab, cross. Jab, jab, shovel uppercut. With each thrown punch his shoulders loosened up, tatau warming right alongside his fatigued muscles.

A droplet of sweat fell onto his eyelash. He blinked, right arm outstretched in a feeler jab.

He coughed as a steely shin dug into his ribs. His arms dropped, brain sending signals to instinctively grab the kick. Stars and static lines exploded in his vision. His legs disappeared from beneath him as he fell to one knee. Dazed, he curled up and covered his head with both arms. A foot hit his arms, pushing him backwards as he sprawled out on his back.

“Get up boy, still got 3 minutes!”

---

“Good work today kids,” the tall, muscular woman clapped the siblings on the shoulder as she walked past. Her thick fingers felt like individual metal rods as they connected with their tired, sensitive skin.

715 rubbed her neck with a towel, wiping away the sweat and grime from the intense session.

“Thank you instructor,” her voice was quiet, energy having been sapped away from brutal beating.

“Thanks,” 1202 muttered, unable to raise his head as he held a cold compress to his face. The muscles in his shoulders and neck twitched.

“Think nothing of it. Same time tomorrow,” the tall woman walked away, her fearsome jaw tatau smiling at the beaten pair.

The siblings sat for a while, waiting for the energy to return to their bodies. Neither spoke, lips small and tight from exhaustion. Their pinched faces slowly regained vigor as they finally felt their bodies loosen, giving them some room to breathe comfortably.

“What the fuck did we get ourselves into?” 1202 scratched his scalp, beads of sweat still rolling down his bronzed face.

“I dunno. But that bitch is a monster,” 715 massaged her thighs, gingerly pressing around a wadded bruise that was slowly rising. She winced as the tender skin responded to her prodding.

“Candidates,” a deep, sonorous voice called out to the siblings. “The rooms are available, please make use of them.”

They both looked up at the person talking to them. It was a member, decked out in the drab uniform with a pair of large bug-eyed goggles obscuring his face. Smile lines accentuated the corners of his lips, making it seem like he was constantly smiling in the warmest way possible. The depth of the voice emanating from the member was at extreme odds with his average, easily forgettable appearance. He motioned to a pair of open doors and bowed his head slightly.

“Please, it’ll help you both relax and feel better. Our instructor gave little quarter today.”

The siblings couldn’t help but gawk, jaws slack as they felt a profound sense of awe at the members deep, fatherly voice. 1202 got up first, pulling his sister's arm.

“Come on sis, can’t hurt. Not anymore than the beating the instructor gave us.”

As they walked by the member 715 couldn’t help but steal glances at him. Her gut told her this person wasn’t what he appeared to be. Tendrils of doubt tickled the back of her neck. Stealing one last look at the man, she caught a smile and felt as if he had winked at her. She wasn’t sure, what with the heavily tinted goggles and all.

They were greeted by small closet-like rooms, thin walls pressing in on all sides. A thinly padded alcove beckoned for them to take a seat, their aching muscles crying out from the short walk over. The door closed with a click as the soft blue light flickered on, buzzing cooly as the siblings sat on the pad. Humming filled the rooms as a thin, smoky layer of cool air dropped from well-hidden vents, washing over the sore siblings in waves. All the aches and pains fell with the descending mist, cool tendrils caressing their bodies before dissipating.

Relaxation spread as they both lay back, muscles loosening as they fell into a meditative state. In sync, the siblings began breathing. Deep, slow inhales. Long, calm exhales. In and out. In. Out.

They felt the tender bruises tighten, the knotted muscles loosen. Color returned to their tired cheeks with each long inhale, the cool air relaxing their lungs and spreading through their weary bodies. Mana circulated as they meditated, ripples of energy tracing their various tatau. Up and down, in and out, the mana frolicked like restless children, exploring every dip and turn of the intricate designs. Tiny goosebumps rose in the wake of the energy’s play, reminding the siblings of the vitality of mana.

715 shivered, not because she was cold but because it had been a long time since she’d felt so rejuvenated. The throbbing in her thigh subsided as the mana chased itself along her leg, bits of energy spreading and chasing the fatigue away.

1202 stretched, long and languid. It felt as good as a morning stretch, his toes curled and his face scrunched as he smiled. The mana ran up and down his stiff back, massaging its little rays of energy into the knotted muscles.

With their eyes closed, they continued to enjoy the chilly boxes. Mana raced up and down their bodies, diffusing its energy and bringing them back to health bit by bit.

Overhead the icy mist turned black, darkening deeper than the sunset shadow. It fell, twitching and writhing as its frigid tendrils engulfed the unaware siblings. Like a living thing, the shadowy mist flitted back and forth, excited as it sniffed out all the aches and pains. With each peck of it’s gelid touch a shiver ran up their spines. A shiver here, a shudder there. Soon they were used to it, eyes closed as they lay their heads back against the frosty wall, enjoying the light prickles of relaxation. Their minds floated away, off to a distant home they barely remembered, a twinkle of a memory.

---

The siblings stepped out of the closets with huge smiles. The magical little boxes were beyond what they could have asked for.

“That was magical!” 1202 snorted and yawned as they walked past the empty table where the deep voiced member had been standing. He let out an ugly sigh, stretching his arms over his head.

“Mmm, it was something,” 715 rubbed her neck, eyelids droopy as she tried to shoo the lethargy away.

They waved at the masked member standing by the entrance to the facility, unsure if the member was even looking their way. It didn’t matter, they felt good. Really good. Even after getting beaten by the evil instructor, that little closet was more than enough to rejuvenate their spirits. The deep red gaze of the setting sun, angry and fierce, watched as they crossed the wide square.

“You know,” 1202 yawned again, still trying to chase the lethargy away. “I had the weirdest dream last night. It was about being here, in this big ass square.”

“What happened?” 715 glanced at her brother sideways, studying his face as he spoke.

“Well, we all came together here. Everybody on the island. Members, candidates, didn’t matter. Everybody showed up and lined up. And then there were some shadows and they were talking about the 12th. I think I remember bowing to something.”

715 rubbed her temple as a slight ache began to build up. “I think I had the same dream.”

“Psh, ok weirdo,” 1202 snickered as he pushed his sister's shoulder. “You don’t have to copy me to be cool.”

“But I’m serious,” 715 scrunched her face as she elbowed him in the gut, catching him right as he was inhaling. He let out a pained groan, coughing as his side spasmed. All it took was a light nudge to activate the tired muscles.

“Well shit, I dunno, maybe it was some weird shit we smoked last night.”

She watched as her brother rubbed his side, face screwed up in pain. Behind him she noticed the gaudy twinkling of the foreign missionaries. A pair of light-skinned, slightly sunburnt men were walking towards them with their hands buried in their large pockets. One of the men began speaking their gibberish tongue, all hard consonants and foreign clicks that made no sense to the siblings. 1202 turned and eyed them suspiciously, half-lidded eyes darting from their hidden hands to their rosy, painfully red cheeks.

“What the fuck you going on about canny?” 1202 spat, still rubbing his side. The two men held out their hands, eyes shallow pools of ignorance. 1202 scowled, brows knitting as he moved to walk past them. With a quick movement the closest foreigner dug his hands into the young man's pocket, finding the secret area and snaking the gold-plated necklace out.

“What the fuck!” 1202’s face twisted as he lunged at the man, grabbing the dangling item. His forward momentum carried him forward and his clenched fist collided with the foreigners soft jowls. 1202 bounced backwards, hands up under his chin.

The foreigner, eyes teary and nose leaking, stumbled into his companions arms. They both started gibbering at the same time, fast and loud, raising their voices as they spoke their incomprehensible language.

“Don’t touch shit that ain’t yours, canny.”

1202 bounced lightly on the balls of his feet, rocking back and forth. 715 grabbed his shoulder.

“Calm down ‘fore we get in trouble.”

As if responding to her warning, a large shadow fell over them. A huge presence appeared, sending shivers running up and down the spines of the involved parties.

“Candidates,” the voice was smooth, silky, slightly high pitched. “Please refrain from any forms of violence outside of the training hall.”

The foreigners' eyes grew wide, jaws fell slack as they looked up to meet the eyes of the voice. The siblings turned and looked up as well, heads craning backwards as they struggled to make eye contact.

The owner of the voice was the largest man they’d ever seen. Taller than was necessary with shoulders that rippled underneath the primly pressed shirt, he was so tall his shadow obscured his face. Wrapped in black, his tupenu fell to his ankles, wrapping around his wide waist majestically. His eyes glowed deep from within his huge face, mana raging just behind the blue-tinged sclera. Lines of mana ran around his face, tracing invisible lines of tatau.

One of the foreigners found his voice, weak and reedy. They spoke their gibberish language in quick spurts, wringing their hands as their eyes darted from the tall man's face to the ground, over and over again.

“This was obviously a misunderstanding. Next time, please obtain a translator to help you communicate with the Seas natives,” a tatau on the man’s throat flared to life with each word. The foreigner, the one who wasn’t nursing his leaky nose, eagerly nodded before tugging at his companions arm. The siblings didn’t even bother looking back, they just listened to the hurried footsteps.

“As for you two,” the man turned his eerie eyes, little sparks of mana flitting back and forth in the brilliant whites, on the siblings. “Again, please refrain from unnecessary violence. I know you didn’t start it but we’d rather not have to discipline any candidates before the tournament starts.”

“Thank you, Faifekau,” 715 nodded as she thanked the man, slapping her brother's shoulder.

He followed suit. “What did they want?”

“They said your brother took a necklace from them. But they apologized, saying they had the wrong person.”

“I didn’t take it. One of them cans gave it to me earlier today,” 1202’s lip rose in disgust as he spoke of the foreigners.

“I’m aware. In the meantime, accept their gifts at your own risk. If another Faifekau speaks to you about an infraction again you’ll be disqualified.”

1202 scoffed, looking at his sister. His eyebrow twitched as he bit down on the soft meat of his inner cheek, fists clenched. “They started it? What the fuck? How am I getting in trouble just because a can was too slow to move his face?”

“Shut up!” 715 growled as she slapped the back of her brother's neck, pushing his head down and applying pressure with her pointer and thumb.

He squealed, twisting his body as he tried to escape his sister's death grip.

“Sorry Faifekau,” 715 nodded again, still pushing her brother’s head down. “He’s a loud mouth, I’ll be sure to keep him out of trouble.”

She pushed her brother ahead of her, pinching his back and sides as she grumbled about how stupid he was.

The Faifekau watched the receding backs of the two candidates, smiling like he was watching a pair of idiotic children. The mana in his eyes squirmed, continuing its tireless swim.