“Finally,” grumbled the Father. Surrounded by his subordinates the group and his emissaries moved as one, pushing and jostling through the milling crowd of candidates.

“Out of the way, heathen!” one of the younger members of his group yelled, kicking an unaware candidate out of the way. “How dare you try to impede the representatives of the One, move!”

The candidate stumbled away, crashing into others as they tumbled. They let out a short yelp as they were caught by an especially keen eyed youth. Jumping back to their feet, they began shouting in their incomprehensible heavy tongue, waving their fist at the group.

The Father waved a hand and one of his entourage placed a pair of large rings in the angry candidates hands, smirking as they withdrew. The bewildered candidate was soon swallowed by the crush of bodies as the emissaries continued their march.

“I’ve grown weary of this hot climate. The sooner we can leave, the better. Have we heard from the other groups?”

“Yes, Father,” answered his newest favorite. The young man unlocked the tablet in his hands and handed it to the older. “They said we can meet after the tournament has commenced. Unfortunately a name was not given, what with the odd customs of this island, but they assured me that the leader is of comparable status.”

“Mmm, acceptable. Make sure a meeting is scheduled as soon as possible. I wish to see what blessing they bring.”

The group continued their march, pushing through the crowds while handing out their baubles. At the base of the steps leading up to the large, shadowed arena stood individual Faifekau at the head of the long lines. The Father indicated the nearest one, smirking as he noticed that it was the woman from their first day on island

.

“Hello, Father. Emissaries. It’s good to see you all,” she said as she ran a small device connected to her finger over the face of a candidate. A dim light shone against the natives skin, momentarily turning it a mottled yellow as it passed. “If you have any questions, you can ask one of the members behind me.”

“Actually,” the Father cleared his throat. “I wanted to speak with you. We require a spacious room, one that can easily accommodate my whole retinue comfortably. And I--”

“Father,” the Faifekau turned her gaze on him. Her eyes turned into hard little pebbles as she stared him down. “I’m sure you’re hoping for some special treatment. But that’s not how it works here. You fall in line and wait, just like everyone else. Any other questions or concerns can be directed to any available member but the Faifekau who are currently here are only available for the check-in process.”

“Weh-pluh-huh,” the Father spluttered, blood quickly rising and coloring his face. “I was insinuating nothing of the sort. I just assumed that there would be different accomoda--”

“Everyone will be accommodated equally under the eyes of the Tu’i,” the Faifekau stated, turning back and scanning a waiting candidate. “Each and every variable, need, and specific circumstance will be and has been accounted for. All we need to do is get through this process and then you will all be comfortably tucked away.”

The Father shook, meaty jowls jiggling as he turned and began pushing his way back to the end of the line. His subordinates followed, dazed and incredibly confused.

“Next,” the Faifekau waved another candidate forward, eyes darting towards the retreating back of the foreign emissaries before refocusing on her work. She noticed, just for a moment, the dark clothes of a Faifekau slinking through the crowd, tailing the haughty missionaries.

---

The Father continued to fume, ears bright red as one of his lackeys dabbed at his sweaty face with a handkerchief. He muttered to himself, expletives that only a few other candidates seemed to catch and understand. The members of the group tried to ignore his frustrated muttering, choosing to be deaf in the hopes that his rage wouldn’t turn on them.

“Stupid brown bitch,” he muttered, bloodshot eyes focused on the back of a member guiding them up towards the arena. “I should…”

He continued, plotting and planning his bloody deeds, completely losing track of what he was doing. Absorbed in his angry thoughts, his vision blurred as he stepped into the shadow of the arena. A hand shot out, grabbing his shoulder and pulling him back as his eyes focused. Looking around, face dopey and shocked, the Father finally noticed the towering presence standing in his path. His jaw dropped as he looked up to meet the large man's gaze.

“Candidate 78710 and entourage, please follow me.”

The huge man turned and walked towards a secluded side of the arena, away from the line of candidates who were filing into the arena in small groups. Bewildered, the group followed as they felt a nudge in the back of their brains telling them to move.

The hand that had grabbed his shoulder was now lightly pushing against the small of his back.

“Father, let us follow,” the young member whispered. His voice was soft and feminine and sent shivers down the Father’s back. “Let me guide you, I think you’ve been in the sun too long. You’re looking a little pale.”

The Father nodded, looping an arm around the younger man as he took a better look. A confident chin mixed with a strong jaw. This one was much more refined looking than he remembered.

“Thank you, young one.”

They followed the hulking man in black. Each step the giant took was the same as 3 or 4 of their own. A door suddenly swung open ahead of the man, bringing him and the dazed group following him to a halt. A pair of members stepped out, both dressed in the drab, colorless uniforms of a lowly member. A man and a woman. The woman was radiant, her dark skin practically glowing in the afternoon gloom of the arena while the man was far too unremarkable to spend much time looking at.

Surprisingly, the large man gave a curt nod to the two members despite his obviously being a Faifekau. Even more surprising was the attitude of the two members. The woman acknowledged the Faifekau with a jut of her chin while the man smiled, sweeping his dead stare across the group.

They all felt dread creep down their backs, slowly plucking at each unshaven hair as it wriggled down and down their sweaty posteriors. The Father shivered, looking around as he thought he felt a frigid wind pass over them.

Without a word, the two members turned and continued walking, barely paying attention to the dazed group.

“Please, candidates,” the large man cleared his throat. His voice rumbled through them as he extended a hand towards the open door. “Another Faifekau will meet you outside your waiting room. Just follow the hallway and you’ll reach your destination.

The young man, hand still firmly planted on the lower back of the profusely sweating Father, pushed him forward as they stepped into the arid, dark hallway.

Without really knowing why, they walked. The shadows undulated all around them, shifting restlessly. A fog fell over them mentally, guiding their weary feet forward. Time seemed to fall away, as a concept and as an immutable truth. A few of the younger members were sure they’d been walking along the dark corridor for hours while the Father, beads of sweat dripping from his chin, was completely unaware. His eyes quickly glazed over, his breathing little more than bursts of fast and shallow breaths. He noticed his retinue speaking, their lips and jaws moving in conversation, but all he could hear was loud, ominous beating of his weak heart.

His wide-brimmed hat slipped off his head and hung loosely against the back of his neck, barely holding on by the flimsy string that was tied around his chin. Each step was torture as the hat seemed to grow heavier, the string tightening around his aching throat like a noose.

Light suddenly filled the dark hallway as a door opened, beckoning to the discomforted group. It was only a few paces away from them so they picked up their pace. Something whispered to them, urging them forward and out of the hallway.

Unnoticed, a Faifekau quietly stood next to the open door, smiling as the group stumbled in.

The young foreigner supporting the Father deposited the limp older man onto a deeply cushioned couch, gingerly laying the him down. The rest of the group all collapsed, sucking air and heaving like they’d just finished running a marathon.

“Welcome, candidates,” the Faifekau finally spoke up as the door clicked closed behind them. They wore a large bug-eyed mask like some of the members. The foreigners had been so intrigued with them during their stay. Each word they spoke was accompanied by the odd clicking of their air filtration system excreting the used up oxygen.

The foreigners jumped at the voice, finally realizing they hadn’t been alone. The odd Faifekau stood quietly, arms tucked behind their back. Their black uniform seemed to meld right into the surrounding gloom of the odd room. Even though there was clearly light illuminating everything the floor, walls, and ceiling were all mired in restless shadows.

“Apologies for my sudden appearance,” they continued, mechanical voice sounding far off and aloof. “I am the Faifekau that will be handling any and all needs of your group during the Advent tournament. This roo--”

“Hold on,” the Father raised a hand, his voice shaky as he pushed himself up to a sitting position. “Let me regain my faculties. You can’t just barge in here and start rambling about nonsense.”

The young man, 74870, dabbed at the Fathers face with a soaked handkerchief.

“Again, my apologies. Please, take your time. Let me know when you’re all ready to hold conference.”

The Faifekau didn’t move their body, not in the normal sense. Without using their legs or shifting their posture in any way, their position changed from right in front of where the door was to a couch located near a large window. The window was the source of the bright light, so bright that it was hard to look directly at it to figure out what could be beyond the partition.

The Father coughed, gently pushing 74870’s hand away as he swung his feet down onto, what he thought was, the ground. Slowly, his breathing calmed as he regained some color. The other members of the group also caught their breaths, sitting or laying in various states of disarray.

“What,” 74780 asked through breathy gasps, turning his gaze on the weird Faifekau. “Was that? Why does it feel like we walked miles upon miles?”

The Faifekau cocked its head and tapped the chin of the mask, making it look even more like an enormous bug. The soft click and whir of its mask were the only indicator that it was even alive.

“Apologies, the distance travelled varies.”

“Is something wrong with you?” one of the other emissaries wheezed. “That makes no sense. What do you mean the distance travelled varies? We stepped through a door and we ended up in here. Why does it feel like we walked so far? Answer the damn questions?!”

On shaky legs, the foreigner stood and faced the Faifekau. His shoulders rose and fell as he struggled to breathe. Even the simple act of standing was taxing.

“Mohe,” the cold, mechanical voice of the Faifekau wheedled into their ears. A wave of hazy fatigue shot through all of them as a sense of vertigo turned them all on their heads. The foreigner who had fought to stand collapsed, knees buckling as he fell over. With a loud thud he greeted the shadowy floor. Softer, less defined smacks followed as the rest succumbed to the Faifekau’s le’o.