Kaleb stepped away from the glowing altar, his body steady but his mind swirling. The storm within him, once chaotic and untamed, now pulsed with calm precision.
Floki strolled alongside him, his mismatched kung fu robes flapping with exaggerated flair. "So, how's it feel to be reborn, oh mighty master of storms?" he asked, winking.
Kaleb shot him a glance, his voice laced with skepticism. "You're not going to throw another trial at me, are you?"
Floki gasped theatrically, clutching his chest. "Me? After all I've done for you? Perish the thought!" His grin widened. "But I might have a surprise or two waiting."
The air around them shifted, the glowing expanse of the altar room dissolving into an open, windswept plain. Mountains rose in the distance, their jagged peaks shrouded in mist.
The crisp breeze carried the scent of damp earth, grounding him after days of fiery trials.
His stomach growled, a deep, gnawing ache that he hadn't noticed until now. He frowned, his voice low. "Why didn't I feel this hungry before?"
Floki appeared in his usual theatrical manner, balancing on a floating rock with one foot. "Ah, the joys of mortal limitations!" he exclaimed, gesturing dramatically. "Your body wasn't in charge during the trials. Your spirit was."
Kaleb rubbed his neck, his body aching from exhaustion. "So, what? My hunger just… paused?"
"Exactly!" Floki grinned, hopping off the rock. "Now that the spirit stuff's done, your mortal cravings are back. Lucky you!"
Kaleb sniffed his shirt and recoiled. "Three days. No bath. No food. I smell like something crawled out of a swamp and died."
Floki clasped his nose, his expression exaggeratedly horrified. "You smell worse than a drowned yak! There's a stream nearby. Do the world a favor and wash up."
Grumbling, Kaleb trudged toward the direction Floki pointed, muttering about overbearing gods. The faint sound of running water reached his ears, offering a welcome reprieve.
He knelt by the stream, plunging his hands into the cold water. The chill jolted him awake, cutting through the haze of exhaustion.
Kaleb splashed his face, watching the ripples distort his reflection. "Finally," he muttered. "Something normal."
Floki perched on a boulder nearby, his tone unusually thoughtful. "So, about that Tidecaller friend of yours—Sonia, right? Her clan's name rings a bell."
Kaleb paused, wiping his face with his sleeve. "What are you talking about?"
"Tidecallers," Floki said, his grin returning. "They remind me of the Tideborn. Ancient clan. Big legends. Masters of water Chi and some of the best cultivators ever."
Kaleb straightened, curiosity flickering in his eyes. "Tideborn? Never heard of them."
Floki leaned back, gazing at the canopy. "That's because they're history. Long gone, like smoke on the wind. All their power? Poof. Gone."
Kaleb frowned, the words settling uneasily. "What happened to them?"
Floki waved a hand dismissively. "No one knows. But their mastery of water Chi was unmatched. Makes you wonder, doesn't it?"
Kaleb's thoughts turned to Sonia. Her grace, her control over water Chi—it seemed too similar to be coincidence. "You think Sonia's clan is connected to the Tideborn?"
Floki wagged a finger, his grin widening. "Oh, I don't think, kid. I know. But finding the proof? That's your job."
Kaleb stared at the stream, his reflection rippling as the water flowed. The possibility gnawed at him, a puzzle he couldn't ignore.
"I'll ask her," he said aloud, the determination in his voice surprising even himself. "If anyone knows, it's her."
Floki clapped his hands, mock applause echoing through the clearing. "Bravo! The storm has a plan. But don't start babbling about ancient clans. You'll scare her off."
Kaleb shot him a glare, standing and brushing dirt from his pants. "You're impossible."
Floki bowed with mock humility, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "And yet, you're still here. Admit it, you'd be lost without me."
Kaleb rolled his eyes, but a faint smile tugged at his lips. For all his antics, Floki had a point—he wouldn't have made it this far without him.
His stomach growled again, louder this time, pulling him back to the present. "Can we eat now?" he asked, his tone edged with irritation.
Floki snapped his fingers, conjuring a steaming bowl of soup out of thin air. "Your wish is my command! Enjoy."
Kaleb eyed the bowl suspiciously, his brow furrowing. "You didn't… mess with this, did you?"
Floki gasped, clutching his chest in mock offense. "Me? Tamper with perfection? I'm wounded by your lack of trust."
Kaleb hesitated before taking a cautious sip. The warm broth soothed his hunger, the flavors surprisingly rich. "It's… good."
"Of course it is!" Floki declared, puffing out his chest. "I'm Floki, God of Nothing, and a culinary genius, Uncle Roger got nothin on me!"
As Kaleb ate, the wind carried faint sounds from the forest—whispers, footsteps, and the occasional crack of a branch. He paused, his senses sharpening.
Floki tilted his head, his grin fading. "You've got good ears, kid. Something's out there."
Kaleb stood slowly, setting the bowl aside. The shadows between the trees seemed to thicken, the air growing heavy.
He crouched low, his eyes scanning the underbrush. The sounds grew louder, clearer—voices speaking in hushed tones, their words indistinct.
Through the trees, a hooded figure came into view, their movements deliberate and practiced. Kaleb's breath quickened. Whoever they were, they weren't alone.
Floki appeared beside him, his usual grin replaced by a sharp gleam in his eyes. "Careful, kid. The storm's not done with you yet."
Kaleb's Chi flared instinctively, the storm within him humming with potential. He braced himself, every muscle tense.
The shadows stirred, the figures moving closer. Kaleb's pulse thundered in his ears, but his resolve held firm.