Chapter 19: Chapter 17. Test of Heart

Taigami was running.

The ground beneath him was pitch black—silent, formless, absorbing every footfall like sand made from smoke. There was no sky above, no moon, no stars. Only a choking darkness that stretched forever, a space that felt too vast and too narrow all at once.

He didn’t know why he was running.

He couldn’t even remember when he started.

All he knew was fear. And the voices.

They came from every direction. Soft at first. Then louder. Louder.

“Weak…”

“You’ve always been weak…”

“You watched them die.”

A scream cracked across the void—Ivan’s scream—just before the silver spear had hit.

“You just stood there!”

Then Prince’s voice, twisted with pain and rage:

“You let them take us. You did nothing!”

Taigami’s breath hitched. His legs faltered.

He stumbled forward, then collapsed onto his knees. His fingers dug into his hair. The void pulsed around him like a heartbeat.

“You couldn’t save anyone,” another voice hissed. “Not your father… not your mother… not Gobomi…”

The air trembled with the memory of that scream—his father’s scream—as the masked man’s blade came down, the ghosts swirling like death itself.

knock

Taigami’s breath caught.

knock… knock…

A rhythmic pounding began. A sound separate from the void, distant—but growing louder. Too loud.

KNOCK… KNOCK… KNOCK…

“Stop…” he whispered.

KNOCK

“Stop!”

KNOCK

“STOP!!”

He gasped and bolted upright.

Taigami sat in a cold sweat, breath ragged, heart pounding like a war drum. His blanket was tangled around him. The faint blue glow of predawn light seeped through the window slats. The room was silent… save for the soft creak of the wooden door opening.

Sky stood in the doorway, hair still tousled, his face calm but tired.

“You were shouting again,” he said simply, stepping into the room. “All night.”

Taigami didn’t respond. He wiped the sweat from his brow and leaned forward, elbows on his knees, breath still uneven.

Another voice followed—this one gentler, quieter.

“Is… everything okay?”

Celia had entered behind Sky, holding a bundle of scrolls and a wrapped file box in her arms. Her glasses slid a little down her nose, and her expression was painted with concern.

Sky looked back at her. “He’s been having nightmares.”

“Oh…” she said softly. Her eyes turned toward Taigami, full of quiet sympathy. “I’m sorry.”

She moved over to the small table in the center of the room and gently laid down the box. Her tone shifted, more focused. “But I found something. It’s… not much, but it’s a start.”

Sky turned to her, curious. “What is it?”

“Archives,” Celia said, unrolling one of the brittle scrolls. “From the Guild vault. They date way before I was even born. They document the ‘Tasks’ Master Arthur assigns to those he doesn’t initially accept.”

She flipped a few pages, running her finger down the faded script.

“Apparently, he’s used similar tests before. The most recent one recorded is a search for his ‘missing tea cup.’” She gave a small, dry smile. “Yes. A tea cup.”

Sky blinked. “Wait. That’s the trial?”

Celia nodded, now consulting the notes. “Don’t let the name fool you. It’s not just a tea cup lying on a table. According to the last report, it’s hidden somewhere in the forest, balanced at the top of a large tree near the far lakeside clearing. To get there, you’ll have to go down the hill, head straight north for about a mile, then turn due east until you reach a flock of sheep near a shimmering lake. From there, follow the curve of the water until—”

She paused.

Her voice trailed off.

Taigami wasn’t listening.

He hadn’t moved since she entered. He sat hunched over, eyes vacant, fists trembling at his sides. His breathing had calmed, but the haunted look had not left his face. It was as though he hadn’t even heard them talking.

“Taigami?” Celia asked, her voice tentative.

No answer.

Sky turned toward him. “Hey. We’re talking about the task. You heard her, right?”

Still nothing.

Celia stepped forward, lowering her voice. “Taigami…”

He slowly looked up—but his eyes weren’t focused on either of them.

They were somewhere else.

Sky glanced at Celia, who still stood near the table with scrolls in her hands. Her eyes remained on Taigami, worry etched across her features. But before she could speak again, Sky stepped forward and offered a gentle shake of his head.

“Don’t worry too much,” he said softly. “He probably just had a nightmare. He’ll be okay.”

Celia hesitated, then slowly nodded and resumed her explanation, reading through the rest of the old archives as Sky quietly helped Taigami finish dressing and gather his things.

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By the time the lantern light faded from the guild corridors and the grey haze of dawn rolled across the hilltop, Sky and Taigami were ready.

Their boots clicked softly against the polished stone as they descended toward the lower courtyard, neither speaking for the first few steps. The air was crisp and damp, filled with the smell of morning dew and distant pines.

As they reached the bottom of the slope leading toward the gates, Sky broke the silence.

“…Are you ready for this?” he asked, his voice steady but concerned.

Taigami didn’t answer immediately. His eyes were dull, and he seemed to be looking past the path ahead.

Sky continued, quietly. “I know you’re hurting. We both are. What happened to Ivan, and what Prince is going through… it’s not something we can just forget.”

He paused, then added more firmly, “But we have to be strong. If we succeed in this task—if we get accepted into Neo Genesis and become Wardens—then we’ll finally have a way to fight back.”

Taigami’s expression twitched. Sky pressed on.

“We’ll have power. Freedom. The kind of freedom Prince wanted for us. The kind Ivan deserved.”

Taigami glanced sideways at him. “Even if I become a Warden… I’ll still see people die.”

Sky stopped walking. His gaze turned sharp.

“Don’t say that,” he said. “Not before we’ve even tried.”

Just then, the sound of footsteps approached from a side path leading up from the lower garden. The two boys turned as Charles Leonheart emerged, casually chewing on a piece of dried jerky with both swords strapped across his back.

“Sky. Taiga,” he greeted, nodding to both of them.

They nodded back.

Charles stopped a few paces in front of them, scratched his head, then looked at Taigami directly.

“I wanted to say… I’m sorry for yesterday,” he said. “I shouldn’t have pulled my blades on you. What happened—what you did—it wasn’t on purpose.”

Taigami blinked, surprised by the apology.

Charles continued, glancing between the two. “Celia told me Master gave you some kind of survival task.”

Sky nodded. “Yeah. Something about a missing teacup.”

Charles snorted. “Of course. That sounds like the old man.” His tone then dropped. “But if you’re going into the forest, keep your guard up. It’s not just birds and trees in there. Some of the beasts near the eastern ridge have grown more aggressive lately. You might attract something that doesn’t care how noble your intentions are.”

Taigami tensed slightly at the warning. Sky gave a small nod in acknowledgment.

Charles stepped past them with a smirk. “Anyway, I’m heading out too. Gotta hunt down meat for tonight’s dinner. I’ll see you both when you get back. Hopefully.”

Then he vanished around the corner.

The guild gates were already open by the time Sky and Taigami reached them. Mist still clung to the earth like a blanket, and beyond the gates, the outline of the forest loomed—massive, ancient, and filled with quiet menace.

Grandpa Arthur was standing there, leaning against his staff like a statue watching time pass.

He didn’t smile. He didn’t greet them.

He simply said, “There’s a teacup I lost, somewhere in the Verdant Forest.”

The boys looked at each other, confused.

Arthur continued, “It’s mine. Ceramic. Painted with old runes. Should still be intact… hopefully.”

Sky raised an eyebrow. “That’s the task?”

Arthur nodded. “Find it. You have three hours.”

Taigami stepped forward, hesitant. “And… if we don’t?”

Arthur’s gaze didn’t waver. His voice was flat.

“Then the doors of this guild will remain closed to you. Forever.”

A breeze picked up, rustling the mist and the long grass beyond the stone path.

Sky nodded.

“We understand.”

Arthur didn’t speak again.

The boys passed through the gate, stepping onto the trail that wound downward into the dense shadows of the Verdant Forest.

Their trial had begun.

The wind whipped past them as Sky slammed his palm against the ground. A slick layer of frost bloomed outward in a flash—curving, solidifying, forming a sleek sled of shimmering ice.

“Get on!” he shouted.

Taigami didn’t hesitate. They leapt onto the makeshift snowsled, and in the next instant, gravity seized them.

Down the hill they went—faster than running, faster than wind—trees blurring on either side, the morning fog slicing apart around them. The world howled by in streaks of white and green, and within moments they skidded to the bottom, tumbling off the sled in a spray of frozen mist.

Taigami hit the grass, gasping for breath. “Hah…hah…”

“No time,” Sky said sharply, already rising. “We have to move.”

They sprinted into the forest, Sky navigating with uncanny precision.

“Down the hill,” he murmured, “then straight north… then turn due east when the ground dips—”

Taigami followed, panting, dodging roots and ducking under hanging branches as Sky called out the landmarks just as Celia had described.

But suddenly, Taigami stopped.

“Sky—look.”

A thick tree stood just off the path, and its bark bore long, jagged claw marks.

Sky narrowed his eyes. “Strange… We should be cautious from here on out.”

“We don’t have time,” Taigami snapped.

Still, the air grew tenser. They pressed on, time slipping through their fingers like sand.

The forest opened up near the clearing where a flock of sheep grazed quietly under the open sky.

“Wait…” Sky said, slowing. “There should be a lake here…”

But the lakebed was dry. Cracked. Lifeless.

Taigami walked toward the sheep, his voice barely a whisper. “Have you ever felt like you were useless?” he muttered. “Like everything you do is too late? Too weak?”

He didn’t expect an answer.

But something moved.

Sky's eyes sharpened. “Taigami… something’s wrong.”

He scanned the tree line.

Claw marks.

Again.

And the sheep… their tails were—wrong. Long, curled. Not wool… but scorpion-like appendages.

One of them twitched.

It twisted unnaturally.

Then lashed out.

“Taigami, MOVE!” Sky shouted.

A venomous tail streaked toward Taigami’s side—but Sky threw himself forward, tackling him just in time. The tail scraped the earth with a snap.

“They’re not sheep!” Sky gasped. “They’re monsters—disguised!”

The flock shifted, their bodies lengthening, fur darkening, eyes glowing. In moments, they were beasts—fangs bared, tails whipping.

Sky was already preparing to defend them, but even he knew—this was more than he could handle alone.

Then—

WHIRR-SHHHHK!

A whirlwind of spinning blades sliced through the air, severing several tails in a spray of black venom.

“Don’t kill them!” came a voice.

Charles landed in front of the two boys, swords out, breathing hard.

“They’re the master’s flock!” he shouted. “I can’t destroy them—but I can hold them off long enough for you to get out of here. GO!”

The boys sprinted into the forest.

But a moment later, Taigami tripped.

Snakelike birds with forked tongues and beaked jaws swooped from the trees. Their wings hissed like fire.

Sky reacted fast—his hands conjuring icy spheres, pelting the creatures mid-air.

“Go!” he barked. “I’ll hold them off!”

Taigami scrambled up, wide-eyed. “But if I find the cup and not you—then you’ll fail the test!”

Sky turned toward him, eyes fierce. “I don’t care! Just go!”

Taigami’s breath caught. He remembered Sky’s words that morning:

“This is for freedom. For Ivan. For Prince.”

He clenched his jaw, turned—and ran.

Behind him, Sky stood alone against the birds. He dodged and spun, lobbing shards of frost, sending flurries into their wings. But they were too many. One bit into his arm—another clawed at his ribs.

Sky grunted, stumbling.

The bites burned.

Poisoned.

His knees buckled. He fell.

And then he heard it—

“SKYYYYY!!!”

Taigami’s voice, thunderous.

Sky opened his eyes—and saw it.

A stampede of boar-like monsters barreling through the trees, all behind a massive wild boar ridden by Taigami, wind in his hair, eyes blazing.

He reached down, grabbed Sky by the collar, yanked him onto the beast.

“What are you doing?!” Sky gasped.

“I couldn’t leave you!” Taigami shouted. “Not again! I’ve had enough of waking up to nightmares!”

Tears burned in his eyes. “Even if I fail this test, even if I never become a Warden… if I lose everyone around me, what’s the point of surviving?”

The monster boars behind them growled and surged, the birds still chasing above.

“Hang on!” Taigami yelled.

The boar they rode charged straight toward a ledge.

A waterfall loomed ahead.

And then—

They jumped.

Fell through spray and light and roaring mist.

The monsters skidded to a stop behind them, unable to follow.

They landed, soaked, coughing—but alive.

Sky rolled off the boar, bruised, bleeding—but breathing.

Taigami stood, chest heaving.

They ran—stumbled—until the canopy opened.

And there, beneath a massive tree…

A porcelain teacup gleamed atop a twisted branch.

But someone was already there.

Perched above, sipping slowly, sat Grandpa Arthur.

His staff rested across his lap.

He peered down at them with a calm, amused look.

“You’re late,” he said, lifting the cup. “The tea’s already cold.”

Taigami froze. “So… we failed?”

Arthur tilted his head. “You didn’t find the cup in time. By that rule, yes.”

The boys’ shoulders slumped.

But then Arthur’s eyes gleamed, and he slowly descended the tree with surprising grace.

“I watched you both,” he said, voice calm. “I watched how Sky fought to protect. How Taigami refused to abandon him. You had every reason to run alone, to put yourself first… but you didn’t.”

He set the cup down gently on a mossy stone.

“I’ve seen powerful Energy users fail this test. Fail because they lacked something you both have.”

Sky blinked. “What’s that?”

Arthur turned.

“Loyalty. Courage. Heart.”

He smiled, the lines on his face softening.

“Welcome to Neo Genesis.”

And then—he paused.

His gaze turned distant.

Storm clouds gathered far beyond the trees.

He whispered, almost to himself:

“…You’ll need to survive what’s coming next.”