Dawn's Symphony
The morning sun rose like a molten coin, its golden light spilling across the tranquil sea. The water shimmered, alive with reflections of coral and cloud, while the air hummed with the salt-kissed breath of the tide. Seagulls circled overhead, their wings slicing through the breeze as they plunged into the waves, emerging with silverfish wriggling in their beaks. The island itself seemed to breathe—a living entity of tangled mangroves, sun-bleached rocks, and secrets buried in the sand.
High atop a weather-worn crag, a pair of Javanese eagles tended to their nest. The male, his feathers the color of burnished bronze, worked tirelessly, weaving fresh mangrove branches into the structure. Storms had ravaged their home twice that month, but resilience was etched into their instincts. His mate sat nestled in the center, her body a warm fortress for two speckled eggs. Below them, the sea churned with life. A school of tarpons surged through the shallows, their scales glinting like shards of metal as they hunted smaller fish. One tarpon lingered too long near the surface, its belly swollen from gorging on darting minnows.
The male eagle stilled, his amber eyes narrowing. With a thunderous flap of wings, he launched himself into the air, a shadow against the sun. The tarpon twisted too late—the eagle's talons pierced its spine, and the water bloomed crimson. Returning to the nest, he dropped the offering at his mate's feet. She tore into the flesh, her gaze never leaving the horizon. Life here was a pendulum: one moment, a predator; the next, prey.
—
Sebastian stirred as sunlight seeped through the cracks of the rickety beach hut, painting stripes of gold across his face. He groaned, shielding his eyes with one arm while fumbling for his gadget with the other. The screen's blue glare confirmed the time: 6:30 AM.
"Half-past six," he muttered, his voice thick with sleep. He sat up, the woven reed mat beneath him crackling like dry leaves. Outside, the distant hum of boat engines signaled the fishermen's departure. They'd left without him—again.
His bare feet met the warm sand as he stepped outside, squinting against the glare. Pandu sat cross-legged at the water's edge, his silhouette framed by the rising sun. Sebastian hesitated, curiosity prickling his senses. The guide's stillness was unnerving, as though he'd fused with the landscape itself.
"What are you doing?!" Sebastian called, his voice sharper than intended.
Pandu didn't flinch. His palms rested upward on his knees, his breaths slow and measured. When he finally opened his eyes, his gaze held the calm of deep water. "Bas. Come here. Follow my movements."
Sebastian grimaced but obeyed, sinking onto the sand beside him. The grains bit into his calves, gritty and warm.
"Meditation isn't about stillness," Pandu said, his voice low and rhythmic. "It's about listening. To the wind. The waves. The pulse beneath your skin."
Sebastian closed his eyes, focusing on the crash and retreat of the tide. Inhale. The salt stung his nostrils. Exhale. His shoulders loosened. For a moment, the world narrowed to the thrum of his heartbeat.
"Now," Pandu instructed, "open your eyes. Summon your weapons—through focus, not force."
Sebastian's hands trembled as golden light pooled in his right palm, twisting into the serpentine curve of a keris dagger. On his left, a cleaver materialized, its edge gleaming silver. The blades hummed, their glow flickering like candle flames.
"Control your breath," Pandu urged. "These weapons are extensions of your emotions. Fear dims them. Clarity sharpens them."
Sebastian watched, awestruck, as the keris shifted from gold to emerald, then crimson, mirroring his racing thoughts. The cleaver's silver brightened to blinding white before settling back.
"Thank you, Pandu," Sebastian said, the weapons dissolving into mist. "I didn't think… I could do this."
Pandu's smile was faint but genuine. "The island reveals potential. It's up to you to wield it."
The Dragon's Arrival
A gruff laugh shattered the moment. "Practicing magic tricks while the rest of us work?"
David—nicknamed "Dragon"—strode toward them, his boots kicking up sand. His pandanus-leaf beanie sat askew, revealing a scar that jagged across his temple like a lightning bolt. A fishing rod hung over his shoulder, its line tangled with seaweed. Up close, his presence was magnetic, charged with the primal energy of his Komodo dragon lineage. His eyes, slit-pupiled and amber, glinted with mischief.
Sebastian stiffened. David's Bio-Evolution traits were legendary: enhanced strength, reptilian reflexes, and a temper as volatile as the island's storms.
"Breathing exercises," Pandu corrected mildly. "Care to join?"
David snorted, dropping onto a sun-bleached log. "Save the zen for tourists. Did Rhinno teach you about frequency merging yet?"
Sebastian and Pandu exchanged glances. "Merging… what?"
"Energy fusion." David plucked a twig and snapped it. "When Bio-Evolved sync their frequencies, they form a mental link. Thalia, Rangga, and I do it. Let's chat without yelling over waves."
Sebastian leaned forward. "How?"
"Focus. Trust. And this." David thrust out his calloused palm. "Try it. Connect to me."
Sebastian pressed his hand to David's. A jolt surged through him—a torrent of heat and fragmented images: Thalia laughing on a jetski, Rangga diving into cerulean depths, the glint of scales in moonlight.
"Thalia's energy… I feel her!" Sebastian gasped. "She's on a sandbar, writing in the—"
David yanked his hand back, chuckling. "Nosy pup. She's miles east, checking traps. And she'll skin you alive if you spy again."
—
The morning's rhythm dissolved as Bang Janip's fishing boat chugged into the dock, its hull groaning under crates of gear. David tossed him a foam box brimming with fish.
"Red snapper? Damn, Vid, you're making me rich!" Janip grinned, his sun-leathered face crinkling.
David smirked. "Save some profits for your brother's boat fund."
As the men bantered, Sebastian's smile faded. A cold prickle crawled up his spine—a discordant note in the air. Pandu frowned, his fingers twitching as though plucking invisible strings.
"David," Sebastian interrupted, "something's wrong with Thalia."
David froze. "Explain."
"Her energy… It's fading. Like a radio signal drowning in static."
Pandu nodded grimly. "She's in trouble."
Above them, the male eagle screeched, diving toward Sebastian. It landed on his forearm, talons gentle but urgent. Their eyes locked—
—and Sebastian was airborne. Wind roared in his ears as the eagle's memory engulfed him: Thalia, hair whipping like a banner, grinned as her jetski carved through turquoise waves. Then, men in black masks emerged from a camouflaged boat. A net snared her. A syringe glinted. Her scream echoed across the water—
Sebastian staggered, the vision rupturing. "They took her! Masked men—on the eastern sandbar!"
David's expression hardened. "Rangga's monitoring the reefs. We'll need his eyes." He gripped Sebastian's shoulder, his voice low. "You sure about this?"
Sebastian met his gaze. "The eagle showed me. We're her only chance."
—
The trio mobilized with lethal efficiency. David radioed Rangga, his growl cutting through static. "Thalia's been snatched. Scan the eastern channels—look for a black speedboat."
Pandu strapped a bone-handled knife to his thigh, his calm unraveling into razor focus. "They'll head for open water. We'll intercept at the strait."
Sebastian's hands shook as he summoned his weapons anew. The keris pulsed gold, the cleaver silver—talismans against the dread coiling in his gut. Thalia's alive, he told himself. She's too stubborn not to be.
Bang Janip approached, holding a steaming clay bowl. "Eat. You'll need strength."
David devoured the fish broth in three gulps. Sebastian forced himself to swallow, the spices burning his throat.
As their patrol boat roared to life, the male eagle circled above, his cries sharpening into a war chant.
David throttled the engine, his eyes on the horizon. "Stay sharp, kid. And don't die—Thalia'd never let me hear the end of it."
Sebastian tightened his grip on the keris, its glow brightening with resolve. Somewhere ahead, the sea held answers—and blood.