"My name is Holt. I'm a... I think it's called a Sapling."
He looked uncertain for a moment, his fingers tapping the wooden table.
"I have an Aspect aligned with heat—specifically, emotional heat. The core of it burns through hearts and minds. According to the Legacy, a politician once burned the world through collective emotion, setting hearts and ideals ablaze. The fault tied to it? I can't control my emotions well. If I'm angry, people know. If I'm sad, it's written all over me. No poker face, no emotional filter."
He paused and took a breath.
"My second aspect is... more abstract. It's the aspect of storytelling. I haven't fully grasped it yet. The Legacy references a storyteller I've never heard of, and its fault is even more cryptic. It just says, "You will follow the story."
Holt fell silent, his face betraying how uneasy he felt. Solomon nodded quietly, offering no judgment.
Before the silence became too heavy, Giada spoke next.
"My name is Giada. I'm also a Sapling."
She sat straighter, her voice clear and even.
"My first aspect is coldness. Not the emotional kind, like Holt's, but true, elemental cold. Cold that freezes blood. The Legacy doesn't speak of a person or creature—but of a phenomenon. Something destined to freeze the world and all life with it."
She paused.
"The fault? A frozen heart. I think empathy will always be my weak point. But I'm learning. Interacting with people—living with them—helps thaw the ice, at least a little."
Her fingers curled against the grain of the wooden table.
"My second aspect is clouds. Towering structures of vapor that can bring about the most devastating weather. Another phenomenon, not a figure."
She frowned slightly.
"The fault didn't seem so bad. It just said my emotions will be like the weather. Sad when it rains. Happy in sunshine. Moody when it's cloudy."
Solomon finally spoke.
"Do not underestimate a fault. They rarely act in isolation. Alone, the second fault might seem manageable. But combined with your first—a frozen heart and weather-born emotion—you may face emotional contradictions strong enough to unmoor your mind."
Giada looked down. Holt looked sideways at her, thoughtful. Nemo, meanwhile, reconsidered the faults he'd dismissed in himself. Perhaps there were dangers lurking beneath his own surface, yet unseen.
The table fell quiet again.
Now, all eyes turned to Nemo.
"My name is Nemo. A Sapling."
He hesitated, then sighed.
"My first aspect is… undecided. Lyla called it _formless._ But the fault is real enough—it makes me curious. When I have a steady stream of new information, I can control it. But if things go quiet for too long, I have to ask something. Five minutes of silence, and I'll break it with a question I can't stop myself from asking."
Holt and Giada exchanged a glance. Nemo recognized it—the same look he once had when hearing someone else's fault and thinking, That doesn't sound so bad. But they'd learn.
"My second aspect is metal. Its core is binding. Arbil said that people like me often form chains. The Legacy talks about chains that once bound a Titan."
He looked at his hand thoughtfully.
"I haven't noticed its fault yet. It just says I 'bind people to me.' I don't know how or why."
He drew a breath.
"And I have a third aspect."
That made both Holt and Giada straighten. Two aspects were rare. Three was almost unheard of.
"My third is hunger—or more precisely, _devouring._ Its fault? Hunger. Simple as that. I'm always hungry. The Legacy reads, "You are always hungry."
Solomon's eyes narrowed—almost imperceptibly—but he said nothing.
"This fault... it's a curse, but also a kind of gift. If I let the hunger take over, I get instincts—a predator's awareness. I can sense weak points, the best ways to strike. That's how I defeated the plant monster. I ate it."
Giada and Holt stared at him. Now the marks around his mouth made sense. The way they looked at him changed—not in judgment, but in reevaluation.
As if to break the tension, a plant beside Nemo's seat grew upward. A ripe, red tomato appeared. Without hesitation, Nemo grabbed and ate it.
Halfway through, he paused.
"I just ate a whole plant monster… Yet a tomato overrides my basic instincts. That's my instinct talking."
Solomon waved his hand, and five more tomatoes grew.
"What you did with the monster wasn't your fault—it's an inherent trait of your Aspect. We all have them. Mine is sensing the world through vegetation. I feel the wind… and the grass beneath us. I see through the trees. Hear through the vines."
He gestured to the foliage.
"I can sense all four of you, right now, and beyond—like a reconnaissance net. It can feel like a fault at first. But once you learn to control it, it's power."
Solomon turned his gaze to each of them.
"Your root levels—Sapling, Leaf Bearer, Branch Holder, Ascendant,t—each mark steps in your journey. You are all saplings, but you each already wield aspects that would make some Leaf Bearers tremble."
He turned back to Nemo.
"Your hunger gives you a boon—quick access to instinct. But instinct is not enough. The strong are separated from the best by how well they use their inherent traits. Yours has already begun to manifest."
Nemo was thinking deeply, reflecting on all the times he had felt that gnawing hunger. He tried to trace the moments where control had slipped through his fingers—when the hunger hadn't just whispered but roared. Each memory made him uneasy. Why had he acted like that? What triggered it? Was it fear? Emptiness? Or something deeper, more primal? As he spiraled into that mental descent, trying to recall the feel of hunger crawling under his skin and pressing behind his eyes, something within him cracked.
And then—the hunger returned.
Without warning, he lurched forward and bit the table. His teeth gnawed at the wood, then his eyes turned to Giada and Holt.
Then—the tomatoes.
He devoured one. Then another. As a new one grew, Solomon stood up quickly and knelt beside him.
"What you feel now is hunger—the kind that devours reason. But you must understand: there will come a time when you face someone with no scruples or a monster that wants to consume you. Only a rational mind can turn hunger into power."
Nemo's head turned toward Solomon. His hand pointed first to the man's heart, then head, neck, spine, and a point on his thigh—vital spots.
In a blur, Nemo leapt forward, a blade of metal forming in his hand, aimed for Solomon's thigh. But Solomon caught his arm, unwavering.
Before anyone could speak, Nemo released the blade, gripped Solomon's arm, and bit down.
A red-black aura burst from his mouth, blood dripping from his eyes, ears, and nose. It flowed over Solomon, devouring.
In the next moment, Solomon hurled him away into a patch of tomato plants.
Nemo began eating again, frantic. Solomon inspected his arm. The bite had pierced his coat and skin. Black blood dripped. His face showed only a faint frown.
Nemo regained his senses slowly. His mind returned, piece by piece. The hunger had caught him off guard—but he'd wrestled back control with the shock of the throw.
He looked at the others. Holt seemed amused. Giada was cautious, but not afraid. Solomon's frown was gone.
"A good attempt," Solomon said calmly. "You just used two of your abilities. The dagger was a crude manifestation of your metal root. The bite—a desperate plunder of power. Remember that feeling. Master it."
He straightened and looked skyward.
"We should return. But one last thing."
He pointed to the mountain rising in the distance.
"The mountain is a restricted area—not because it's dangerous, but because it's a _nuisance_ to search for people there. Except for the summit. That is truly dangerous. Never ascend without me. And don't chase treasures near it—they're almost always illusions."
With that, Solomon turned and led them back into the jungle.
By the time they returned to camp, the sun was setting. Raven greeted them.
"Did you take them on a tour of the island or something? You were gone forever."
Solomon smiled faintly.
"Oh, nothing much. Just mentoring these three from today onward."
Raven blinked, then looked the trio over with new eyes.
Solomon turned back for a moment.
"Tomorrow. Edge of camp. Six sharp. Don't be late."
Then he followed Raven into the growing shadows.