The rest of the journey to the Isle of the Sun was smooth. They took half a day to repair the damage to the vessels. The rest of the fleet proceeded ahead of them, while the four vessels stayed close together, eager to prevent any other attack. Ernst continued to wear mourning attire, but began to allow himself to shift his mind from grief. He invited Varren and Avala to join him, Raleph, Galaric and the ranking officers on the Elder Dancer for dinner one evening. The officers sat at one end of the table while the younger people sat at the other end. There, they learned that Avala was a fellow paladin-hopeful. Tokbugh, her home, was a port on the western continent which was often harassed by privateers from Botester, where Varren was from. He offered no apology, and the meal passed in icy silence until Galaric broke the silence by asking for a story from someone at the table. He said he would not share, since, being raised in Kilrough, he “had no story worth sharing since next to nothing happened in that town.”

“Surely something has happened of worth there,” Avala said, setting down her knife. “After all, it is the only majority human settlement in a country of centaurs.”

“Majority human, yes,” Raleph piped up. “But it is still a small town, more of a trading outpost, really.”

“You’ve been there?” Galaric asked.

“Once,” Raleph replied. “My sister Caliria and I went with our master Eamon there to learn from a druid of one particular tribe who specialized in potions.”

He went on to share that he had grown up as something of an orphan, adopted together with his twin sister by Eamon. They traveled often, learning magic from all corners of the eastern continent. As the conversation shifted, to the backgrounds of Avala and Varren, the latter was careful to avoid admitting to any privateering acts of his own. While he spoke, Avala seemed on the verge of bursting out with something, but held her tongue.

Soon after this, the dinner ended, and each person returned to their own vessel. Outside, an orange glow encased the horizon.

“We’re getting close, now.” Alec crossed his arms, a note of satisfaction in his voice. “Right on course, repairs notwithstanding.

The orange glow grew more intense each day, appearing even during noonday. On the fifth night of travel, the brightness of the glow made sleep difficult. Finally, midway through the last day, it disappeared, and an island burst into view, piercing the horizon.

“There she is, Kauu Hy, and the Isle of the Sun,” Alec, peering through a telescope.

Galaric peered through a borrowed telescope at the island. “Two islands?”

“Aye, lad.” The sailor said. “They connect at low tide. The one on the left is Kauu Hy, a fishing village at a large harbor, and that’s where we’re headed. To the right is the larger island, where the temple to Uther and Istune is. We’ll be waiting in harbor for a few days for the fleet to gather before approaching Talagai together. You’ll be heading to the Isle once we dock, I reckon, to see the temple there.”

As they drew nearer, details appeared on the islands. Kauu Hy was small and rocky. The Isle of the Sun rose above it like a towering brother, a smoking volcano at the center. The Isle was covered in lush vegetation save for the volcano, which was a stark black color against the vibrant greenery. A set of buildings were set into the volcano about halfway up its slope.

“That’s the The Temple of the Sun,” Raleph said. “According to legend, this is where Uther and Istune bested a giant and ascended to godhood. Now, warrior monks tend to the temple in much the same way that the paladins guard the Talagian temple.”

“Warrior monks,” Galaric said, intrigued. “What does that mean?”

“It means they fight with their fists,” Valin Kyor said, striding forward. Galaric turned to face the centaur. Valin stroked his salt-and-pepper beard and continued, “We’ll be picking up some of them for the academy, or so I hear.”

“Fellow trainees?” Ernst asked.

Valin nodded. “Something like that. They’ll have a specialized curriculum. Be careful when you visit the temple, sire. They’re dangerous creatures, these sun monks. We’ll be here for a few days while we wait for any other ships to meet us, and then we’ll proceed as one large fleet to Talagai.”

In the late afternoon, the ship docked at Kauu Hy and Galaric set foot on shore for the first time in three days. He stumbled a little, and Varren slapped his back. “You’ll get used to it just in time for us to set out on the ship again.”

Kauu Hy was a strange mix of large and small. The docks themselves were extensive. Clearly, many ships passed through this harbor. But besides the harbor, the island was so rocky that almost everyone lived in the little port town.

Ernst, Raleph, Galaric, and the other prospective paladins followed Valin Kyor down the dock and along the beach for about half a mile. The other two ships were a couple hours out, so Valin opted to begin the journey to the monastery now.

“How long will we be here?” Ernst asked, hand resting on the hilt of his sword. It had not left his side since the kidnapping.

“We’ll be staying at the monastery for about a week,” Valin said. “Throughout the week, other trainees will be arriving. Once everyone has arrived, we’ll depart as a unified fleet to deter any attackers.”

A narrow strip of sand connected Kauu Hy to the towering Isle of the Sun. On the other side of the isthmus a small group waited for them. They wore simple, light brown robes and bowed slightly when the Valin’s party arrived. Nearly all of them had long, straight black hair. The men wore it short-cropped, while the women wore it to the shoulder, or tied back or in a braid. The woman at the front of the group stepped forward. A few strands were lose, framing her sharp features. Her golden, almond-shaped eyes glanced at each member of the group.

“I am T’sold Yaim,” She said to Valin. “Please, allow us to help carry your things to the monastery. It’s a fair walk.”

Valin shook his head. “If they cannot carry their own things for a few miles, they aren’t fit for Talagai.”

“As you say, sir,” T’sold replied. “Follow us.”

With that, her group fell into step with Valin’s, and they continued down the beach. After about a mile, they turned and began climbing a path cut through the jungle, up toward the volcano. Before long, the groups struck up conversation. Galaric found himself beside T’sold.

“So, you’re the leader of these monks?” He asked.

She laughed. “No, not even close. I’m one of the lowest ranked monks, barely an acolyte. That’s why I’m able to talk to you.”

Galaric glanced over at her. She walked with a lightness that went beyond the physical, looking straight ahead. She had caramel-colored skin, tanned from the powerful sun here, with a few freckles across her nose.

“What do you mean by ‘able to talk’?” Galaric wondered. “Are the other monks too holy for us?”

T’sold shook her head. “Not at all. The more experienced members of our abbey are in charge of teaching the younger students, you see. They, in turn, learn from the masters, who themselves study and ponder the old scrolls, and the creatures of the gods to refine their mind and techniques, seeking a proper unity of spirit and body. Then they experiment and pass on their insights to the rest of us. Since I’m not very advanced, I have few to instruct and few forms to master, and so have time to assist those outside the abbey.”

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The closer the group got to the volcano, the warmer it got, and the higher they climbed, the thinner the air became. Soon, all the paladin trainees were soaked in sweat and gasping for air and conversation died out as the trainees focused on merely putting one foot in front of the other.

“You train in this?” Galaric said, mopping his brow.

“Yes,” T’sold said, amused. “But it is nothing compared to what I have heard the training at Talagai is like.”

“Hurry up,” Valin called from the head of the struggling column. “We haven’t got all day.” He pointed up at the sky, where the sun loomed large. As Galaric watched, it seemed to loom larger than usual.

Galaric lapsed into silence as he focused on saving his breath for the climb. Over the next few hours, the sun grew larger, a flaming disk, and turned the island into an oven. It deviated from its typical east-to-west course, moving a little north toward the Isle. Finally, the monastery came back into sight as the group emerged from the trees. It was built into the side of the volcano, carved from the living rock.

“Hold,” Valin said, stopping in his tracks, a small grin playing at his lips, sweat pouring from his brow and flanks. “Watch the sunset. Just don’t look directly at the sun.”

With a chorus of relieved groans, the paladin trainees dropped their packs and turned to the sun. As they watched, the sun seemed to grow until it filled the sky, moving toward the volcano at an increasing speed. A nearly intolerable heat washed over them. What seemed like a lighting strike echoed through the sky, and Galaric could swear he heard the sound of horses whinnying as the sun hovered over the volcano. Galaric’s hair stood on end as he looked, and his legs were suddenly weak. Finally, the sun turned orange and began to descend into the mouth of the volcano. Then, with one last glimmer, it was gone, and the stars came out.

Raleph’s eyes sparkled as he turned to Galaric. “I’ve never…”

Galaric stared wordlessly at the sky, and T’sold grinned. “It never gets old.”

“Into the monastery, quickly now.” Valin called. “You don’t want to be caught out here when the monsters of the night begin hunting.”

Raleph glanced at Galaric and T’sold. “He’s joking, right?”

Galaric shrugged and trudged forward. “You tell me.”

T’sold just smiled silently.

As they approached the gates of the monastery, the massive but plain wooden doors slowly opened, each pushed by half a dozen people. Inside, the halls were lit by glowing orange crystals. It was warm, but not unpleasantly so. After the heat of the sun, it seemed downright chilly.

“The other acolytes will take your things to your chambers,” T’sold called. Gratefully, the paladin trainees turned their things over to the acolytes. “Follow me to the dining hall.”

She led them down the hallway and into a huge room lined with low tables. Small, round cushions served as chairs. About half the spots were filled with robed acolytes like T’sold, while the other half were empty. Ernst, Raleph, and Galaric stuck close together, whispering in low voices as they pointed out different details of the temple to each other.

Across the dining room, they saw Avala with her group, and Varren with his move to tables on opposite sides of the dining room, maximizing the distance between them. There were many empty places at the long wooden tables.

“We’re expecting many more paladin trainees to arrive in the next few days,” T’sold explained. “Here at the Isle, we strive to show hospitality to the others of the ancient order.”

Raleph cleared his throat. “The ancient order?”

T’sold nodded and led them to a mostly-empty table and sat on a cushion, crossing her legs. “Yes. The monks here have always coordinated with what used to be called the Old Dowsers, or the paladin order. Before Talagai was claimed by any group, we helped maintain neutrality. Now, we leave the protection of the city to the paladins. We also count the lesser six paladin temples as members of our order. And,” she looked at Raleph, “we of course recognize the wizarding guild.”

“Guild might be putting it strongly,” Raleph said, taking a seat on one of the cushions. “The wizards I’ve met tend to do things in a rather unstructured way. Or it seems that way to me, at least.” He shrugged and peered at the bowl sitting in front of him. There were no utensils save short tube next to the bowl, and the contents of the bowl were a strange mix of red broth and long, yellowish things. He exchanged a quizzical glance with Galaric.

Seeing their confusion at the food, she picked up her bowl. “Here, you eat it like this.” She took the tube and slurped from the bowl. The meal passed in peace with quiet discussion at each table. T’sold promised to give them a brief tour after the meal, and the abbot gave a warm welcome address to the gathering. Afterward, T’sold led each group to their dormitory, pointing out areas of interest along the way: a fountain here, an archery range there, and, of course, the sparring circles. On the way there, she pointed out the path to the courtyard, where the sparring circles were. Once they arrived at the dormitory, Ernst and Raleph settled into their beds. Raleph withdrew a large volume from his bag while Ernst began scribbling in his journal. Galaric frowned. “Don’t you want to see this place?”

Raleph looked at him over the edge of his book, The Alchemist’s Handbook, Third Edition, (Rewritten for the Properly Educated). “I’ve already done more hiking today than I thought I would do all year. No, thank you.”

Ernst shook his head without looking up.

“Fine, suit yourselves,” Galaric said, shaking his head as he left, carrying his sword with him. He began working his way down the long halls of the temple. Every so often, he passed an acolyte or monk, who acknowledged him with a slightly bowed head. Before long, he found his way to the courtyard with the sparring circles as T’sold had pointed out. It was dark overhead, and the stars shone brightly. The moon was just a sliver in the sky. Shining moonstone illuminated the courtyard and the small number of acolytes walking its tranquil perimeter. Others exchanged blows in the sparring circles. Some of the other paladin trainees who still had energy were also there, swords catching the glint of the moon as they dueled.

“You made it,” T’sold said.

Galaric turned about to face her, a little surprised. “You’re quiet.”

She smiled. “Compared to paladins, yes. Come with me.” T’sold brushed past him, leading him toward the nearest sparring circle. In the center was a boulder inscribed with similar runes to the stone Raleph had used. This one was more robust, making a larger circle that could have more than two participants. T’sold explained that it could also handle more than just swords, but also magic, fists, and other weapons. She tapped the rock twice, and it began to glow more intensely.

“Let’s see what you paladins can do,” T’sold grinned, gathering her hair with a leather tie before settling in to a fighting stance.

Galaric drew his sword and cast the scabbard aside as he stepped into the circle. “Is it on?” He tried the edge of his weapon, and it passed right through his hand. “Good.”

He settled into a low guard, mindful of what Valin had said about the sun monks. He approached T’sold cautiously, unsure of her combat style. They circled for a few moments, feinting. Then Galaric lunged. T’sold deflected the blade with her forearm, which Galaric now noticed was protected by a shimmering bracer. She slid close and elbowed him in the chest inone smooth motion, throwing Galaric to the ground. He scrambled to his feet and pointed the blade at T’sold, who chuckled. “Too slow. Come on, paladin.”

With a grunt, Galaric stepped forward and slashed at her. She leaned to one side, allowing the blade to pass her by, and then connected a series of blows to Galaric’s face and neck, knocking him down again.

“Sloppy,” T’sold said, bouncing back and forth on the balls of her feet. She helped him up, and they faced off again across the sparring circle. This time, T’sold initiated the attack, bounding forward and dropping to the ground for a leg sweep. Galaric jumped over, and slashed down at her, but she rolled out of the way and rose to her feet. They were both starting to breathe a little harder now. She made a feint to the left, and when Galaric shifted his position, she stepped forward and delivered a side-kick to his swordhand, knocking his blade from his grasp. She spun about and delivered another kick to his chest, knocking him out of the circle entirely. He landed with a groan, and then rolled to his feet.

“You aren’t trying,” T’sold accused him. “No paladin trainee is that bad.”

“Fine,” Galaric growled. T’sold picked up his sword and flipped it around, offering him the hilt. As he reentered the circle, a new light shone in his eyes. He stood straighter than usual, and held his sword in one hand, his sword hand and both feet in line facing her.

T’sold wasted no time, and stepped forward, ducking under his slash to spin, aiming to deliver a devastating roundhouse. But Galaric stepped in and shoved her with his shoulder, knocking her off balance. T’sold rolled away, eyes widened in surprise. He followed up his advantage with a series of jabs and thrusts designed to take advantage of his superior reach with his sword. T’sold dodged and deflected them all, but was forced to concede space. After knocked aside one thrust, she tried another kick. This time, Galaric caught her leg with his free hand, grunting as he absorbed her blow and shoved forward, holding her leg. She collapsed, and he landed on her, putting his blade to her throat.

“Where did that come from?” T’sold asked as Galaric helped her up, panting slightly.

“It just…came to me I suppose.”

T’sold shook her head. “No, that stance you used. It’s for saber fighting.”

Galaric shifted his shoulders uncomfortably, glancing at the other sparring circles. No one seemed to have noticed their little duel. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

She shrugged. “If you want to pretend to be incompetent, that’s your decision. If you do that, though, you’re just wasting your time sparring.” She settled into a guard again. “So are you going to waste our time again, or actually fight?”

Galaric backed away and picked up his scabbard. “Perhaps I’ll see you at Talagai.”