Stillness took over as the ceiling fan kept chopping the air.
Kaya let go of Malik, and he secretly wished it would last longer than it did.
Am I longing for some sort of connection? No, I can't draw attention to myself. I never wanted any of that. I'm fine being by myself.
Malik knew he was lying to himself, so he bottled up the storm of observation beneath his blank expression.
He sat on a bed next to Kaya and Zayne, whilst Noam sat alone on the other. His feet were close together, and he seemed oddly distanced.
Then, Noam lightly gasped and facepalmed, as if remembering something crucial.
He carefully crouched down, listened for noises outside, and slowly pulled out a box from under his bed.
Quietly opening it, he gently laid a large blowtorch on the floor, and his hand shook as he grabbed a bundle of stakes.
His muscles tensed as he got up. "I need to get these up outside, quick. Can anyone help?" Noam asked briefly.
Malik raised his arm, volunteering. He could see the distressed, almost desperate look on Noam's face and the chills running up his spine.
Breathing deeply, Noam slid off the door's chain, which hung by a thread, nearly breaking its holder. Twisting the doorknob abruptly, the door swung open.
A cold breeze flooded the room from outside.
He exited the home, holding the stakes like knives. Malik followed after him as the door closed.
On the porch, Noam was shrouded by a layered darkness. "Can't see out here." Each hair on his body stood up as he mumbled.
Pulling out the blowtorch, he planned to use it as a light source.
Then, he felt a cold palm pushing it down. "No need. I know how to guide myself through this."
Goosebumps arose on Noam's arms. "You sure about this?"
Malik nodded, surveying the starlit night. The layout of the porch was clear to him, and he could count every cabin in the distance.
Noam handed him the stakes. "Drive them in the ridges, they're like circles. I'll light them as I follow your sound."
Tiptoeing to the railing, Malik saw the ridge, surrounded by a metal support to not erupt the home in flames. He precisely stabbed the first stake.
Noam hastily ignited it with the hissing tool, muttering under his breath, "How can he see . . ."
Malik answered him, "I ask myself that too. I never got a clear answer for it."
Noam's body jumped as he hadn't expected a response.
Wasting no time, Malik planted the rest of them, and the tribesman accordingly blazed them.
An array of torches in the cabin's entry gleamed brightly in the night. From afar, it seemed like an occultic ritual that aimed to drown the night, imitating the appearance of a threaded heart with burning pins.
Blazing, smoke culminated in the air as it entered their lungs.
They took a breather, inhaling as they counted the torches one last time.
Coughing, Noam opened the door, and they met the quiet warmth of the cabin, escaping the cold winds and hazy fumes.
Noam sank in his head and sprawled in comfort. "Another restful night," he whispered.
Malik quietly sat down, making no noise in the bedframe. Kaya and Zayne sat on the same bed, with their backs pressed against the walls.
He sighed. "So what's the deal with this, Noam? I thought we weren't supposed to be out at night."
"We aren't, but this assures we sleep tonight," Noam said sternly.
Continuing, "It's a good omen that's been spread here. The Solythe frequency of the torches drives them away. Flames hold their spark; it's not something they want to deal with . . ."
"Who's they?" Malik asked.
Noam shook his head. "Don't know, and I don't wanna find out."
Malik thought about what the other phrases meant, as they sounded familiar.
"What do those other words mean? Solythe? Spark?" He tilted his head.
Noam gulped. "I can't tell you what they mean, but I can tell you what they are, or at least what I know they are."
Malik's gaze tensed as he leaned forward.
From under his bedsheets, Noam slid out a stack of slim manuals and skimmed through certain titles until he found it.
"This is the only thing worthy of note that I hope satisfies your question. Unfortunately, everything else here is outdated and talks about wars and casualties. I'm somebody who likes researching mysteries, not tragedies—those scare me the wrong way," Noam muttered.
He handed a small document to Malik, and when he grabbed it, his eyes widened.
His hands shook as he read the title: The Spark of Solythe: K-REDACTED
The only fragment of the word was "K," yet everything after was blacked out, and the word "REDACTED" lay on top of it. However, only one paragraph was unredacted, as the rest was completely scratched off the page.
It reads: "Solythe revolves around every living organism. It's a component in life, and in our blood, driven by emotion. And when that emotion pools until it breaks through, that's when the spark (sometimes labeled a divine one) releases the soul's landmark retribution known as the—"
Malik turned the page to the other side, but to no avail. It looked like a beast had sawed off the information. Only fragments of letters could be understood, but it was ultimately unreadable.
"What is this, Noam, and how did you get this? I'm confused. I feel like there's way more than what little this page says." Malik's grip tightened around it.
The tribesman inhaled. "I'm sure you remember how this whole island was inhabited by us, correct?"
Malik stared blankly, unable to give a response.
"Right, I forgot your situation." Noam knitted his eyebrows. "Since the explosion of Zi Jin Cheng ten cycles ago, the entire realm went hectic. Riots formed, cities burned—you know the gist. And among the chaos, the people stormed military bases and looted weapons, documents, and whatnot."
Noam stared at the wooden floor. "Among those bases, I'd find these papers and maneuver past the altercations. I was a child then, so I got away easily. These documents were my only entertainment when we had nothing but our lives at stake in the sea, and here."
"Your lives at stake? Wouldn't your realms have tried to restabilize their society?" Malik questioned.
"Far from it. The Messengers didn't kindly, nor did the Bearers. They massacred innocent civilians, as me and everyone else on this island narrowly escaped. There were four ships—I was on the second one—and we were all petrified. As we began to lose hope, we came across this land and took over from there," Noam stated.
Malik raised an eyebrow. "Four?"
"Yes. Each one went to a different corner of the island, and once we reached it, we dismantled the ships for materials, and then we established everything as you know it within these cycles."
"But something's missing. How can all hell break loose in such a short span of time? You're saying there wasn't anything the people could do?" Malik proposed.
Noam shook his head. "Everyone living in the Ant Farm are the lucky few that made it out. After the tragedy, people were fed up and started retaliating. I heard Zi Jin Cheng is under a new leader since the Head-Bearer apparently died, but that's speculation. Realistically, that place is probably in quiet shambles by now."
His voice lowered in volume. "You really can't ever trust things anymore unless you see them, but the things you see are often the most terrifying."
He scoffed. "Hell, sometimes I'd like to believe this whole concept with Solythe is a far more condensed pseudonym to conceal something much larger at stake."
"And all this . . . leads to this letter." Malik pointed to the letter "K" on the page.
Suddenly, Kaya, who was watching from afar, caught a glimpse of it. Then, she whispered, "Kolxayne."
Malik turned. "Did you say something, Kaya?"
She crawled forward on the bed. "Yes. The Kolxayne. I know it revolves around Solythe."
Malik's gaze widened, and he pointed to Zayne. "Zayne. I remember you tried to explain the Kolxayne to me, but you were interrupted. Was I not allowed to know what it was?"
Zayne broke his silence and sighed. "I'm not sure. That felt so long ago, but I remember Cyrus spoke to me about it. He said you were like a short blade, and he told me to never mention it to you until the time was right."
Malik gave a half-smile. "There was never a right time for any of these things. That old bastard. But my question is, do any of you know what it is?"
Turning to Zayne, he shrugged whilst scratching his hand, "All I know is that it's when all emotions break momentarily past a cycle. Those were Cyrus's exact words when he told me. I didn't look into it, but now I'm really wondering what was in his head."
Kaya interjected, "The emotion is only a part of it. This is what breaks through."
For a moment, she closed her eyes as she held her breath and quietly exhaled. Opening them, she briefly felt her sight dissolve in a searing amber spark, like the sun bottled in her irises.
The blaze of amber left her eyelids raw as they felt dry. Then, they went back to a void of dark brown. She rubbed them as it irritated her.
"But how did you know what it was, Kaya? I thought that name was exclusive to military personnel, right?"
Kaya's body twitched. When she heard the question, her mind clouded, but her lips spoke in threads. "I—I heard it from Cyrus, yeah . . ."
Suddenly, Noam tapped his foot on the floorboard. "You're lying."
Her body froze. She didn't have the strength to open her mouth. There was a second of silence that nearly submerged her.
Then, "That wasn't a Kolxayne . . . that was merely an echo of Solythe. A stage into reaching it, or at least the primary definition of it." Noam added.
Kaya's body quickly thawed, and she panted in relief. "H-how would you know?"
He twirled his hair. "The paragraph speaks of a retribution. Using deduction, there is a loss that comes to the Kolxayne. Its something you let go of in order to gain. Your eyes are an asset, where the loss isn't as grand as it could be, which implies the idea of the echo."
Kaya whispered, "So you're saying, the eyes aren't the farthest I can go."
The tribesman leaned back in his bed. "That depends on how much you're willing to let go to surpass it."
Malik resisted the urge to tear the document in half. "So, if they're allowing the militaries to know about the soul's landmark, the spark, the tragedies they commit . . . just what do they want to hide from the realms?"
. . .