Talia’s head immediately snapped to the tall, dark man who had just spoken.

Noelo, the Elder, seemed momentarily speechless.

“I said, who dares interfere with Water Rider law?” The man repeated.

“I—I spoke with the Academy and—” Noelo stumbled on his words as he tried to articulate a rebuttal.

The tall man looked around at the other Water Riders, who all lowered their heads.

“I see,” the dark man said harshly. “However, no law will be violated in my presence on pain of death.”

Everyone immediately shut up and Talia sighed in relief, having to rest her hands on her knees to keep herself from falling.

“Shall we proceed?” The man asked the Elder. “Solara is only the first of many stops we have to make.”

“Of course, of course,” Noelo said with gritted teeth.

“Ika,” the dark man said, “take my weapon.”

Ika walked up with a deferential expression, lowering his head and accepting the glaive.

Then, the man who looked like the leader of the Water Riders, spoke ceremonially.

“We are here to perform the test of the waters. Who will present the young promises to me, Tulo Verdania?”

“I will,” Noelo replied, stepping forward. “Noelo Solara.”

Men and women got their last names from the island they were born on.

“Noelo Solara,” the other thundered, his previous enmity seemingly forgotten now. “Are your youth strong and loyal?”

“They are,” Noelo replied.

“Are they prepared to die against the Abyssal creatures?”

“They are,” Noelo replied again.

However, as the last question still rang through the ears of the youngsters, Tulo released a minor flash of killing intent. Immediately, a few of them started crying their eyes out. The ceremony stopped momentarily, with the parents of said teenagers shaking their heads as the crying ones were separated from the rest who stood upright behind Noelo.

“So, Noelo Solara, are your young promises ready to ride the sea and dive into the depths?”

“They are,” Noelo replied firmly.

“Let us not hesitate further and see with our eyes if they deserve to join our ranks,” the man nodded. “Bring your first promise. And remember, young promises, the Water Riders' motto is honor before everything.”

A lanky kid was ushered forward, briefly scrutinized by Tulo.

The Water Rider waited for the kid to turn his palm upward, then extended his hand above and turned his palm downward to face his. A ball of water slowly gathered between their palms.

“A Water Rider faces the sea and its waters,” Tulo spoke the lines of the ceremony. “Are you ready to ride?”

“I am,” the lanky kid spoke.

“Receive the water, then,” Tulo said, with the floating ball between their palms vibrating as the adult removed his palm.

The test showed how developed someone’s Water Channel was.

Everyone in the Nā Moku Kai Great Archipelago had a Primary Mana Channel with Water Affinity. There were no exceptions. Most would also already have or develop one to three additional Mana Channels with different Affinities as soon as they were assisted in killing their first Abyssal Creature. However, one’s future talent and overall potential could be easily assessed with a simple test of their Primary Mana Channel.

Today, as the tests were carried out, they would see who had the talent to become a great Water Rider and who, instead, would stay behind on the island.

In addition to potential, a powerful Primary Water Channel was essential because it tested one’s aptitude for basic hydromancy.

Hydromancy was the magic of the sea that allowed water riders to steer their Mana boards and travel unbothered even across storms and without ships. Furthermore, to battle in the Deep, whether above or underwater, they had to use the one ubiquitous element: water. Without it, any fighting would be nearly impossible.

One might consider it a merciful act that individuals with a weaker Primary Mana Channel were not chosen.

To choose their new recruits, the Water Riders had developed a simple method that required someone who could already control Mana.

And that’s why the test was done with the help of another Initiated, who would inject part of his own Mana into a globe of water. Uninitiated people didn’t have much Mana, but they could, if they wanted, learn techniques to control it and, on their 16th birthday, inject just enough to sustain a floating globe of water.

That would allow those administering the test to roughly gauge their aptitude for Hydromancy.

Of course, they couldn’t see their Primary Mana Channel level clearly since they had not been Initiated.

Still, they could guess by how long one could keep a globe of Mana-infused water afloat before the Mana dispersed. If their Primary Mana Channel had a high level, they could make the water float for as much as a couple of minutes, thanks to their control and Mana reserves. On the other hand, for those without significant Levels in their Primary Mana Channel, the water would slowly drop into their palms the moment the tester cut their Mana supply to the globe.

You had to keep the ball of water from touching your palm for about ten counts to pass the test, which proved your Primary Water Channel was at least Level Two.

The longer you could go, the higher your Primary Water Channel level.

Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

Most people on Solara had never interacted with Water Riders nor were Initiated – or they had simply just turned sixteen, like Talia – so no one from the current batch of candidates had already been tested other than Takai.

Today was going to be full of surprises.

And so, with a focused expression, the lanky kid made the globe of water float above his palm as Tulo removed his hand.

The water almost immediately started vibrating, indicating his control wasn’t great. However, as Tulo softly counted out to ten, the globe was still an inch or two from the kid’s hand.

“You will ride the waves, young promise,” Tulo smiled as the water finally touched the kid’s hand and fell formlessly to the ground.

Another teen came forward – a girl.

This time, as soon as Tulo removed his hand, the globe started trembling so hard that a few droplets spilled onto the sand. The girl couldn’t hold out for more than half a breath before the globe lost its form and fell to the ground.

“The sea is deep and dangerous. Your future is on the island,” the dark Water Rider declared.

Not too disappointed, the girl sighed and returned to her parents.

“Takai,” Noelo called, and the scrawny kid trembled all the way up to Tulo.

It was unusual to take the test twice, and Talia could hear the other teens snickering.

Her heart clenched as she watched her friend approach the Water Rider. She knew how much this moment meant to Takai - it was his chance to step out of his father’s shadow and prove to everyone that he wasn’t defined by his family’s past.

“Are you ready to ride?” The Water Rider asked, his voice steady and impartial.

Takai swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing visibly. “I am,” he replied, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Receive the water, then,” Tulo nodded, forming the water globe between their palms.

As the test began, Talia found herself holding her breath.

She silently willed the water to stay afloat as if her desire alone could keep it from falling.

But barely three counts in, the water globe started trembling uncontrollably.

Takai’s face contorted with concentration, beads of sweat forming on his forehead.

On the fifth count, despite his visible struggle, the water globe just fell.

“Dammit!” Takai gritted his teeth. His fists clenched at his sides, knuckles white with the force of his grip.

“The sea is deep and dangerous—” Tulo began, but Takai was already walking away, his shoulders hunched, and his head bowed.

The boy pushed through the crowd, ignoring the scornful remarks.

He didn’t even meet Talia’s gaze.

Talia’s heart broke for her friend. She knew how incredibly important it was for Takai to become a Water Rider, to forge his own path, and to prove his worth. But somehow, Takai had not inherited any of the talents of his infamous old man. But...

She wanted to run after him, to offer him comfort, but the ceremony held her in place.

I was really hoping he would make it, Talia sighed inwardly.

And so, the ceremony continued, with some passing and some failing. Nothing seemed exceptional until it came to Fiora, the most courted girl on the island.

Talia was not on good terms with the girl who had always been fawned over by all the boys.

Talia wouldn’t have gone as far as to say that Fiora was her mortal enemy, but there certainly wasn’t any goodwill among them.

Especially since a month ago, they had gotten into an animated spat that ended with Talia slapping the girl across the face.

That mistake had been the excuse used by the Elders for Talia to spend an entire month being grounded in her hut.

Fiora stepped forward, her blonde hair rippling and her green eyes shining like emeralds in the sun.

When Tulo removed his hand, the ball didn’t even flinch. It just stayed afloat as if frozen in time. Her control was so perfect that the man almost forgot to start the count.

“One,” he started hurriedly. “Two.”

...

“Two-hundred-and-three,” Tulo’s eyes were wide open. “Two-hundred-and-four.”

...

“Five-hundred-and-nine.”

...

“Six hundred.”

It wasn’t until the six-hundredth count that Fiora’s control finally broke, ever so gracefully, and the globe dispersed. Even then, it looked like the water slid around her hand elegantly, as if Fiora’s affinity with the water didn’t stop at the globe’s control.

“You will ride the waves,” Tulo said and paused momentarily, “and the waves will bend at your feet.”

It was a different formula, a rarer one to acknowledge a great talent.

The crowd erupted into cheers and applause.

Fiora beamed, her face glowing with pride as she basked in the adulation.

Noelo, the Elder, smiled approvingly, his earlier harshness forgotten in the face of such a promising future Water Rider. Even Tulo, the dark Water Rider, nodded his head in acknowledgment of Fiora's exceptional talent.

Talia couldn’t help but feel a pang of jealousy at the accolades showered upon Fiora.

As far as she knew, the only person to do better than six hundred counts – a hundred breaths – had been her mother, Yalena, and her sister, Riala.

Talia tightened her fists.

I’ll show her. I’m going to do even better.

I’ll do even better than Mom and Riala.

“What is your name, young promise?” Tulo asked.

“Fiora Solara,” the girl smiled smugly.

“Fiora Solara, you have a great gift,” he nodded. “The people on this island are blessed with talent. Yours is even greater than Ika's — hopefully, you’ll soon contribute to protecting the archipelago. Congratulations.”

Talia was fuming when the ceremony was temporarily interrupted, and everyone started fawning over the blonde girl again.

But the worst came when Fiora walked back toward the others and smiled widely at her.

“Hey, Talia, I hope all your training will help.”

Noelo had to stare Talia down to stop the girl from punching her again.

“Talia, it’s your turn,” the Elder said with a sigh.

A hush fell over the crowd as Talia stepped forward.

All eyes were on her - some curious, some fearful.

As she positioned herself before the Water Rider, she caught sight of the faces in the crowd.

Some parents pulled their children closer as if to shield them. Others watched with wide, anxious eyes, their bodies tense as if ready to flee at a moment’s notice. A few elders hunched their backs, scrawling their faces with worry.

Under Fiora’s taunting gaze, Talia stretched her hands forward.

Tulo summoned the globe of water, and Talia focused all her attention on it.

She started doing the visualization exercises, picturing the water bending to her will, and she focused on injecting Mana into the globe Tulo had just created.

She imagined it floating effortlessly in her mind, defying gravity count after count.

The cursed child.

The whisper seemed to ripple through the crowd, barely audible but impossible to ignore.

Talia lifted her chin, determined to prove them all wrong.

During practice, she had shown immense potential, and this was finally the moment of truth.

The cursed child steeled herself.

I’ll reach a thousand, she thought to herself as Tulo removed his palm. I’ll show them.

The crowd collectively held their breath.

Time seemed to slow as all eyes focused on the shimmering water globe. Some leaned forward in anticipation, while others took a step back, fearing what might happen. The air had never been this charged for a test.

But then, something happened that no one expected.

The globe of water didn’t levitate, vibrate, or even wait one second.

It fell straight into Talia’s palm, splashing all over and leaving everyone stunned.