Morning sun spilled across the skies of Cain, bathing the busy tribe in golden light. Birds sang from the trees, circling above the noise of a swelling crowd. Today was no ordinary day — the Island Center School buzzed with energy. Students aged 18 to 25 filled the ancient halls and courtyards, dressed in the varying colors of their clans, their voices mingling with the island breeze.
Inside the grand training hall, the largest room of the school — capable of holding a thousand students — chairs were nearly full. Students shifted, whispered, and waited. Among them sat Tamar, silent amidst a few girls from her clan. Her thoughts weren't on the chatter or the crowded room — her eyes, soft and focused, were locked on Zinco, seated in the row ahead of her.
Then the room fell into silence as the large doors opened. A young man in an official green cloak entered, walking beside a tall, firm-looking woman. He stepped onto the podium at the center of the room.
"Welcome, students," he said, his voice carrying strength and pride. "I am Manasseh, Principal of the Island Center School. Today marks the beginning of the final stage of your journey as Edenites."
Eyes across the room turned toward him.
"You have undergone the five-year training of your clans, the ten-year development under your tribe, and years of personal growth and discovery. Now, the island calls on you to prove what you've become — not only as individuals but as part of something larger."
He paused. The lady beside him stepped forward, speaking with clarity and conviction.
"I am Ranah. Many of you know your powers well, but here we test something deeper. Can you protect the island? Can you protect the family?" Her eyes swept the room. "Power means nothing without loyalty, unity, and heart. On this island, family is everything."
She continued: "For the next few months, you will be placed in teams — five to each — with members drawn from different tribes and clans. Learn each other. Trust each other. Fight for each other."
Ranah picked up a long scroll, passing it to a student in the front. "Write your full name, your tribe, and clan. Pass it to the end of the row. Teachers will collect them. We'll use the strawdrawer to randomly form your teams."
Principal Manasseh nodded. "Your team will earn points as a group and as individuals. Missions will vary — some real, some designed to test your instincts. You will never know which is which. Treat them all with seriousness."
The room filled with the soft rustling of papers and whispered names as students scribbled and passed their scrolls. Ten minutes later, the strawdrawer — a large machine wrapped in woven reeds and glowing faintly — began to spin.
Ranah stood beside it, her voice crisp and clear. "When I call your name, step forward. Your supervisor will be introduced. This is your team — treat them like family."
Names were called. One team after another stepped up, their names echoing across the hall: Mary of Gad, James of Onan, Kroe of Shuni...
Tamar sat quietly, praying under her breath.
Please... let it be Zinco...
But when her name was finally called, it was alone.
"Tamar of Zohar."
She gasped softly, stood slowly, and walked to the front. She glanced at Zinco — still seated. His name hadn't been called.
Her heart ached.
Her team — strangers from other corners of the island — gathered with her and were led to the far side of the room. One by one, new teams formed. The process took nearly half an hour.
Then, Ranah's voice rose again — this time, with a note of amusement.
"Now... our final team," she announced.
The strawdrawer spat out the last five names. "Aaron of Dan... Gideon of Dan... Jezer of Zorah... Mary of Ashbel... and... Ketheral VIII."
A few heads turned. Ketheral the Eighth? A founder's descendant?
As the five students approached the front, a figure slipped from the side — David, the youthful, fast-talking, childlike warrior assigned as their supervisor. Ranah smiled faintly as he waved.
"Team Aleph," Principal Manasseh said. "David will supervise your training and missions. Supervisors will now take over from here."
The students began to leave in teams. Tamar walked with hers but glanced over her shoulder — her eyes fixed on Zinco. Her heart whispered what her voice could not say.
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Later That Day – The Training Grounds
The open-air grounds hummed with energy. Team Aleph sat on the shaded podium as David, their guide and supervisor, stood before them.
"Welcome, welcome, Team Aleph!" he announced, arms wide, voice full of cheer. "I'm David of Dan — the only David on this island, so no confusion, right?"
Gideon raised a hand. "Wait — the David of Dan? The one who raced a thunderhawk on foot and won?"
David grinned. "Thunderhawk cheated. I still won. But yes — guilty."
Jezer gave a skeptical snort. "Didn't you also cause that storm over Nimrod just by sneezing?"
"Allegedly," David said with mock solemnity. "The records were... blown away."
Laughter broke the ice.
"Alright, alright," David said. "Let's get this started the right way — with food! Because if you don't bond over meals, then you don't bond at all."
He clapped his hands. "Tell me your favorite meal. One by one. Let's see if I like any of you based on taste alone!"
Aaron raised his hand first. "Fishoah with mushroom soup."
David gasped. "A mushroom lover like me? You are already my favorite. What type of mushroom?"
"Laceshade."
David put a hand over his heart. "A man of class. Respect."
Next was Gideon. "Carrot-vegetable soup... with bloodflake."
David's face twisted. "Bloodflake? You drink that stuff voluntarily?"
"It's an acquired taste."
"It's a mistake," David muttered, as Mary giggled.
Jezer shrugged. "I like Fishbloodoat and carrot-mushroom soup."
David stared. "Why are so many of you into root-soup chaos? But fine, at least you added mushroom."
Mary raised her chin proudly. "Banga soup with eba... and apple juice."
David pointed dramatically. "Finally, a real meal! Someone here was raised well. Tell your mother I said thank you."
She smiled. "She says thank you back — in spirit. She passed a few years ago."
The group quieted for a moment.
David bowed his head slightly. "Then I'm honored to sit with her legacy."
Finally, he turned to Zinco. "And you?"
Zinco hesitated, then replied, "Beans... with butteredwheat bread."
David blinked. "Simple. Balanced. Respectable. That's the food of a quiet warrior."
Zinco nodded silently.
David clapped. "Alright! Let's go eat! Tonight, we dine as a team — no training, no tests. Just food and maybe a little chaos. Tomorrow... everything changes."
As they stood, Mary spoke softly to Zinco, "You don't talk much."
He gave a small smile. "Not when there's nothing important to say."
Mary looked him over. "Maybe you'll say something important... when it matters."
Zinco didn't respond, but his eyes lingered on hers for a breath longer than usual.
As they walked toward the dining hall, Jezer bumped Gideon with his shoulder. "Bet you two bond over roots and bloodflake."
Gideon smirked. "Only if he cooks."
David grinned as they walked ahead of him. "This is going to be fun."
And somewhere far across the island, Tamar watched the moon rise alone, her hand curled over her name — wishing it had been drawn beside Zinco's.
Little did they know how closely fate had already begun to weave them back together.
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