The dawn over Luma blazed brighter than usual—an omen whispered by the elders as Kairo rose with the first chant of the tribe. The golden tents shimmered like molten glass under the rising sun, and drums thundered from the solar shrine, each beat rippling through the camp like a heartbeat of the world itself.
Sunmaster Jabari stood at the shrine's gate, staff gleaming with etched runes of flame. His amber eyes fixed on Kairo, then to Tano and N'Dari beside him. "The Jua greet the dawn with rhythm, not rest," he declared. "Today the void-born meets the Sunheart. Let your light face its reflection—without flinching."
Kairo bowed, his golden aura flickering with silver veins, the beast within stirring restlessly. The warmth of the camp filled him with both courage and dread. Tano grinned wide, already tapping a teasing beat—tap-drum-tap: "Beatless facing the Sun? Try not to melt!" N'Dari's calm voice cut through the laughter—"Silence your thunder, or the sun will test you instead."
The tribe gathered in a vast circle around the Sunpool—a mirror lake of pure light channeling Solar Aura from the shrine's heart. Jabari raised his staff; the air trembled, and from the pool rose three radiant disks—each a fragment of the sun's rhythm.
"Three steps forge balance," Jabari intoned. "The Trial of Sunheart demands harmony—not dominance. You must balance courage, truth, and restraint. Fail, and your own light burns you hollow."
Kairo stepped forward, feeling the pull of Solar Aura pressing against his own Echo pulse. The first disk flared—Courage. Fire lashed toward him in sweeping arcs. His instincts screamed to defend, but he remembered Jabari's words. Instead of striking back, he flowed—Echo Step weaving through the flames, turning their rhythm into motion. His aura shifted, flame bending around him like rippling gold.
The second disk pulsed—Truth. Reflections of his fears burst from the light—visions of Azar's madness, of himself consumed by shadow. The sun's voice echoed: "Face the beast." Kairo inhaled, grounding through his bond with Tano's steady drumbeats and N'Dari's iron focus. "You're not my enemy," he whispered to the phantom within. The illusion faltered—shadow shrinking under acceptance.
The third disk descended—Restraint. Energy surged through his veins, tempting release. His Aura wanted to roar—to unleash the full force of the Harmony Chant—but Jabari's gaze steadied him: "Control shapes destiny." Kairo clenched his fist, channeled the power inward, and exhaled light instead of fury. The disks merged, forming a radiant sigil above him—the mark of the Sunheart.
The crowd erupted in song—drums, claps, chants rising like a tide. Tano whooped, leaping high—"BEATLESS! You did it!"—while N'Dari crossed his arms, a faint smile tugging at his lips: "Light tempered by silence endures." Jabari stepped forward, pride gleaming in his eyes. "The sun accepts you, Mwana Wa Nuru. Your flame now carries Luma's blessing." He touched Kairo's chest, igniting a faint golden mark that merged with the silver flicker of his beast.
But even as the tribe celebrated, the horizon darkened. A shimmer moved along the dunes—distorted air twisting into a spiral of black wind. N'Dari's eyes snapped toward it, Resolve Field tightening. "Something stirs beyond the savanna."
Jabari's expression hardened. "Dusk follows us," he muttered.
Far beyond the cheering camp, Kofi knelt on a dune, violet eyes blazing beneath his obsidian helm. Nightreaver hummed with restrained fury. "By your will, Prophet," he whispered, the wind curling around him. "The light has found its pride—now I shall test its flame."
The savanna shimmered—sun meeting shadow—as the Trial's triumph faded into the first breath of war.