Dance of the Fi-Nix (A Thread of Stories from FiHami)

[Ray]

November 6th, 2025
Antarcha

Children were fascinating things. Helpless, stupid, yet utterly curious to the nature of the world. They were wholly reliant on caretakers, but were practically impossible to monitor. Wynterre had never given much thought to motherhood, to her mother’s absolute disappointment through many blind dates with Antarchan nobles. In the year and months since she assumed care of the FiHami Coron’shi, Wynterre decided that children were the bane of her existence and she would never care for children once the child was returned to a proper caretaker.

FiHami had announced their selection of a new head of state, a new Ha’Coron’ within Texeteti’s friends. Ha’Coron’ Halaka Kilaweioni proved to be cruel as power was gradually given to her, causing even more refugees which Antarcha, among many others, took in and gave shelter and hope. Certain less-trustworthy outlets began circulating news that Halaka was grilling and eating the children of public enemies, though Wynterre’s sources couldn’t find actual evidence of such atrocities occuring.

Evidence. Such a prized commodity in Antarcha, equated to the father of Reason. Through Reason, ancient Antarchans claimed, all matters could be settled.

There was no reasoning with Texeteti’. Wynterre had tried, only to leave with her head nearly detached from her body multiple times. She was seen as an enemy, and science did Texeteti’ make sure it was known that Wynterre was number one on his list.

“Child, get down from there.” Wynterre scooped up the 5 year old FiHami rascal that had caused so much property damage to the palace already with her antics. “What did I say about climbing the fridge?”

“Faisl sin dararan nurr.” Do it only if there’s danger.

Wynterre blinked. She did not authorize teaching the child Antarchan, in fact, she had made sure any discussions and commands were given in Finixi or Austral.

Where in the scientific method did the child learn Antarchan?!?

“Don’t worry, Huahasi told me I need to learn languages so I can be a better ruler than ever when I’m old. So I learned Antarchan while I’m here. I know what all the servants-”

“Employees. Antarcha does not refer to its employees as servants.”

“Sorry.” The child giggled. She wriggled out of Wynterre’s arms and launched herself down the hall. She stopped at the end of the hall and turned to face Wynterre with full seriousness, as the child’s demeanor was the first several months of her residence at the palace.

“I know wa isn’t coming back. I watched them derail the train. I watched wa fall down the mountain. I made sure the person that did it suffered before joining wa.”

As if nothing was said, the child took off back to her own room, leaving Wynterre back to her own devices. She never believed in reincarnation, she never believed in afterlife. But her time with the child began sowing seeds of doubt that couldn’t exactly be washed away.

“We are both young, and leaders of our countries. I think we should make sure we are as close as possible. The rest of the world doubts our leadership.” Finix walked Wynterre along the beach a few weeks after the crowning ceremony. They had developed a close friendship in such a short amount of time, with so many plans of mutual agreements and friendship between the two countries. Finix, the war-hardened leader who never had asked for anything except a quiet life.

“Agreed. In Antarcha alone I have the elder nobility breathing down my back all the time. It is tiring.” Wynterre sighed. Finix nodded in agreement with a heavy sigh of her own.

“Heavy is the crown, after all. The crown forced upon us.”

The child in the palace bore a striking resemblance to Wynterre’s late friend. The flip between serious child that everyone called Finix, and the fun-loving child who called herself “Hafi” when alone, a deeply-concerning flip.

If you are truly my departed friend, make it known. Give me evidence as to the nature of your existence.

[Ray]

The Antarchan dawn was brutally cold, far too cold. Kalara shivered underneath the sheer quantity of jackets and blankets she had draped over herself.

It had been more than a year since her mission began to hunt the Coron’shi. The child had been kidnapped from her home island, and Texeteti’ demanded the child eliminated from the throne. He demanded it be a completely private matter, so that once the deed is done he could be the hero who tried to save her. Her search led her throw a variety of identities and lands, a ghost, never to be seen again.

The one good thing about the Antarchan cold, Kalara supposed, was the sheer amount of bundling up needed to be done in -40 degree weather. There was no need to toy around with disguises, no need to have a backstory in her pocket if questioned. No one, not even the Antarchans, wanted to be out in the brutal cold. No one would question her for being out, because no one was out.

To her surprise, the side castle entrance was unguarded. Kalara was able to slip inside without much fuss. It was fairly easy to grab a spare uniform that would fit and wander the palace.

“Who are you?” A voice startled Kalara from behind.

Target located.

Kalara swept Finix up and threw the rag from her belt to the child’s mouth. Once the child stopped struggling, Kalara ran out of the palace.

---

“What do you mean the child is gone?” Wynterre tore through the palace’s living area in a cold sweat. Her assistant struggled to keep up with her queen on quivering limbs. However, no trace of the child could be found. It had only been 10 minutes since the assistant had put the Finixi child to nap, you would think that the child couldn’t have gone far. To think that would be a fallacy on mankind everywhere on Pacifica.

“Alert the country, make sure no one leaves Antarchan soil until the child is found.” Wynterre froze in horror at the sight by the East entrance. The door wide open, wind howling. A guard, freshly murdered, bloody footprints of a child and adult tracking into the courtyard and the streets of Wyssrade.

---

When Finix woke up, she found herself in the arms of a strange woman. She was no longer in the Antarchan palace, but in a boat.

The Icebreaker, as they called it, was a state of the art ship designed with Antarcha’s ocean in mind. The temperatures hadn’t risen enough to begin melting the ice along the shore that stretched for miles. Yet, the icebreaker sliced through like a freshly-sharpened knife. Finix wanted to run, but there was no way around. She was stuck, on a ship to who-knows-where, set down right next to the mast to find herself in chains.

[Ray]

November 8th, 2025
At Sea

“Shut up or I’ll cut your tongue out.” Kalara snapped. She had been dry heaving all morning as the rough seas tossed the small boat around like a toy. Finix, seemingly unaffected by the rough seas, told Kalara about the history of surfing, the most notable figures in surfing, like she had done to Wynterre and Hana before.

“Go ahead and try. I dare you.”

Kalara wished she could just throw the child overboard and be done with it entirely. It was too much hassle, she was just another mouth to feed, and her fate would be the same either way.

“You do not want to play those games with me, kid.”

“I’ll summon the fire from the sun itself!”

“I hope you can swim from Antarcha to FiHami.” Kalara shook her head. “Then maybe you can also send the sun’s fire on Texeteti’ and his stupid people and I can retire in the sun.”

“I’ll burn them too. Texeteti’, Huahasi, all of them.” Finix paused for a while to look at the waves from their vantage point. “And after that I’ll surf and become the best surfer ever.”

“Oh yeah?” Kalara slumped down to the floor with a sigh. “But you’ll be Ha’Coron’ then and you won’t have time to surf.”

“Well in the ancient times the Ha’Coron’ would surf first to connect with the Finixi gods as a meditation, and then once they were done, everyone else would be permitted to surf during religious gatherings.”

“Do you believe in the Finixi gods, child?”

“Well Huahasi says I’m the reincarnation of the goddess Finix and I am the queen of the gods and of the people, so I better start acting like it whether I have the memories from my previous life or not.”

“But do you believe it?”

Finix paused for a moment, reflecting on everything.

“Yes, I do. Maybe I’ll remember better when I get older. Or, if the stories are real, maybe the sun burned it all away to give me a new start, because if the books are right, I hated being Ha’Coron’ and just wanted to live a normal, unimportant life.”

“Do you care about your lost memories?” Kalara felt something in her heart begin to shift, quietly.

“No. But Huahasi does, and I am tired of Huahasi’s harsh lessons. I want to be a child, not some important character.”

“We’ll make it so.” Kalara nodded. “Get some rest, it’ll be at least a week before we see solid ground. Then I’ll teach you some skills the old Finix had that you’ll need if we’re going to take care of Huahasi and Texeteti’.”

[Ray]

November 14th, 2025
Ha’Hani, FiHami

“Oh, Ru’asha, it’s good to see you at the temple.” Huahasi dipped his head towards Kai, an act of respect at the Finixi temples. The High Priestess of FiHami, dressed in golden silk and necklaces, held a golden chalice in his soft hand, as he stood before the statue of the god of fishermen Huatoamatu.

Kai set the pearl necklace in their hand before a different statue, in front of the god of communication and merfolk Kiri’i. They muttered a quiet prayer to themself, then stood up to address Huahasi.

“A devotion to the fishers, I see.” Kai did their best to portray calm in their position. They had never truly been religious, but since assuming Ru’asha’s identity they had found a quiet comfort with the gods and their folklore, a way to ease their anxiety.

“I am the priestess of all the gods, not just one. I must ensure all the gods are happy.” Huahasi poured the contents of the chalice over himself, filling the air with the stench of fish oil. Once he was done rubbing the fish oil over his body, he lowered his body in prayer.

Kai noted the smallest statue in the room of the wall, recognizing the goddess portrayed as a younger child, holding the star of curiosity in her hand. Akashi’i was the name that came to mind, her altar almost had no offerings to it. Kai thought for a moment, and pulled a toy out of their bag, one that Kai’s grandfather had fashioned out of palm fronds and rope.

“Dearest Akashi’i, please accept this toy to play with. Protect all the children of Pacifica, please let the old and young feel the spark again, let them see the world through your eyes.”

Kai set the toy on the altar and walked to the center statue, the one of the original Finix from the mythos. The brave matriarch of the Fi’Shi tribe, Ha’Finix itself, also the fiery girl who turned the tides of revolution and freed FiHami from its Antarchi chains. She was the winged avenger, the queen of the gods, the one who brought name to their way of life and taught survival to the first Finixi peoples.

Kai had a single feather in their hand, which they laid in front of the winged goddess with a smile on their face, a quiet “thank you” uttered under their breath that even Kai themself couldn’t hear.

“You would be a very good priestess, Ru’asha. You took pity on the goddess that most forget. Do you have interest in serving the temples?”

“No, that was never my calling.” Kai shook their head. “I saw myself first and foremost a mother, a matriarch.”

“That is understandable.” Huahasi thought for a moment. “I need to talk to Miss Texeteti’ for a moment, I want you to follow me. I just had a vision, about you.”

Kai nodded, wiping a bit of sweat from their forehead.

---

“My dearest colleagues.” The woman with long, braided hair stood before the FiHami congress. Her posture was confident, her voice carried through the halls. She hadn’t lived in FiHami since she was very little, Antarcha was all that she had truly known. Her old name wasn’t even Finixi, but in this moment, she was Finix Hastofi, firebrand politician who argued the voice of the people.

“My fellow Finixi people, my fellow FiHami Hani. Today, I gather the petition of the people who are, as of now, fighting our law enforcement in these very streets that you and I walk.”

The legislative hall fell quiet, enough to hear Finix take a step forwards.

“The people demand the release of curfews. They demand justice for the people who take the lowest roles in Finixi society. Because, as we all know, Matriarchs were put on the planet to protect all other peoples. Women are to protect men, provide them a safe place to come home to while they provide food, natural defense, and keep our cities clean and running. Curfews do not protect men, they make fulfilling their natural roles far more difficult. There are men who do not have a mother or a wife to provide for them, why do we require men to have a woman sign them up for banking, purchasing property, or anything along those lines? Restrictions on legal gender prevent the Finixi genders from flowing freely like the oceans, as they always have. Liberate the genders once again, so we can have our culture.”

“With all due respect, Miss Finix Hastofi, I would like to present to our fellow lawmakers some statistics.” The person acting as Finix’ sister, Panua, stood up. Finix made her way to her chair, allowing Panua to take the center.

“Since the implementation of the curfew for men, crime related to violence and property has seen a massive decrease. I have a counter, perhaps we should make the rules far stricter, we could lower violent and property crimes to virtually 0%, partnered with recognizing the Antarchi genders: man and woman based on biology. Those who are man should not be allowed outside their home without a woman guardian, and they should be kept under control at all times.”

“You’re proposing we put the so-called men on leashes???” Finix jumped out of her seat. This was a tried-and-true method, Panua would suggest outlandish policy to make Finix’ pleas sound more reasonable, inching further and further from Texeteti’s vision.

“Men are dangerous, they cannot control their impulses. They should be chained and kept on leashes and only brought out during wartime or when we need to produce a child.”

“Perhaps the answer is in the middle. I do not think we need to abolish gender or abolish the curfew. Instead, perhaps we could modify the curfew? Men do still need to work. Perhaps a permit system for men who would be out after curfew?” Another legislator stood up.

“Exactly, men do still need to work. Perhaps we could afford to do away with the curfew, there’s no historical precedence for the presence of a curfew in Finixi society.” Yet another legislator made her own presence known.

“On the contrary, we could make it a general curfew for all. We need to clear the protestors from Ha’Hani.” One of Texeteti’s plants glared at Finix. “Abolish protesting should be number one on the agenda.”

“All in favor of abolishing protests?” The speaker of the Parliament stood from her cushiony chair. A large wave of “Aye’s” echoed across the hall, enough to where Finix already knew the result.

[Ray]

November 15th, 2025
Unknown, FiHami

“Alright, shi Finix. Back in FiHami.” Kalara scooped the child into her arms and jumped out of the boat. The journey was much quicker than anticipated, but then again, there were plentiful favorable winds and currents north. Finix yawned, stretching her limbs out as best as she could, barely catching herself as Kalara set her down.

“So what now?”

“Well, last I heard, a bunch of protests are going on in Ha’Hani, it’s very dangerous right now. But this is to our advantage.” Kalara handed a sword to the child, a ling, lightweight blade her brother had made when she was small. Corohu was the blade’s name in Kalara’s youth, and she kept Corohu around like a lucky badge. Now, it was time to pass the sword.

“So we kill Texeteti’ with a sword in the protest?” Finix tested the weight of the blade in her hand. She had never held one in her hands, Huahasi and Hana both said it was far too dangerous for young children to play with weapons.

“Eventually. We need to get to Ha’Hani first. We are a ways away, at the southern tip of FiHami. If it’s true that you are a reincarnation of Liberator Finix, you’ll likely remember the path we’ll take.”

“Didn’t that take weeks?”

“Well, the entire Finixi militia moved slower than two assassins that don’t have to stop for battle every few hours.” Kalara ran through the FiHami rainforest, stopping every so often to make sure that Finix was behind her.

“Right.”

“We should make it to Sami by nightfall, where we will sleep and I will teach you how to use that blade.”

---

Ha’Hani, FiHami

“Lady Ru’asha.” Texeteti’ bowed to Kai with a smile. Texeteti’s hair was done up in a braid, he wore a typical poncho that covered his body and a pink skirt that flowed gracefully in the breeze. He had a mushroom in his hand, one that Kai immediately recognized as Larakuna, incredibly psychoactive in small amounts, deadly if eaten whole. A common poison used to kill an enemy.

“Yes, Miss Texeteti’.” Kai kneeled before FiHami’s prime minister and placed their forehead on his hand.

“How is your family doing?” A sincere question asked, Kai was surprised. To their shock, Texeteti’ leaned over and whispered in their ear. “I am asking Kai, not Ru’asha. I don’t like fake pleasantries, you smell absolutely brainwashed.”

Kai rolled backwards and drew her gun out, pointing directly at the Texeteti’ with a shaky hand.

“Stand back.”

“Are the rest of Ru’asha’s family Sedunnic spies too? Or Frosty spies?” Texeteti’ walked over to Kai and without missing a beat, shoved the rest of the mushroom into her mouth. To Kai’s horror, she swallowed in the panic.

“You have approximately an hour of life left, and about fifteen minutes before that trip starts. You should share what you know, Kai Hastofi.”

“None of them are spies. I stole an identity and they were too dumb to know that their mother has been replaced.” Kai tried their best to stay calm, to shoot the gun, but their body was working against them.

“Except Huahasi caught ‘Koto’ hacking into things. And ‘Panua’ and ‘Finix’ in the legislature? And a few others were caught disseminating foreign propaganda.”

“You’re lying.” Kai shook their head. They felt their head go light, their fingers began going numb.

“No, Kai. You’re lying. And you don’t seem to handle your poisons well either.” Texeteti’ knocked the gun out of Kai’s hand and lifted them up. “A sore loser, got brainwashed by the Antarchans, tried to kill the Ha’Finix-ordained prime minister, was struck down at the last second by the Prophetic Eye of Lakuna.”

“You ruined FiHami. You ruined this country.” Kai screamed. With the last bit of their strength, they tried to take Texeteti’ to the ground, they tried to grab the gun, fire at Texeteti’s head.

Once Kai stopped moving, Texeteti’ set them on the floor.

“No, dearest Kai. I’m saving FiHami. Only the Ha’Finix itself can strike me down.”

---

Sami Village Memorial National Park, FiHami

“Alright, little goddess. Show me what you’ve got.” Kalara tossed a stick into Finix’ hand and waited. To her surprise, Finix lunged forward and landed a solid whack on Kalara’s leg.

Kalara immediately lunged towards the little girl, aiming just shy of her neck. Instead, Finix knocked the stick out of Kalara’s hand and knocked her down, pointing her own stick at Kalara’s neck. With a chuckle, Kalara picked Finix up off of her, setting her down to the side.

“You’re better than I thought. Must be all the surfing.”

“I also asked one of the priestesses to teach me stuff in secret. She was nice and taught me how to fight with a lot of stuff.” Finix sheepishly admitted. “I really wanted to surprise Huahasi when I beat him because of how mean he is.”

“Ok, you could have told me that. No matter, just rest now, we have an early morning to deal with and two evil men with our names written all over them.” Kalara rolled her eyes as she stood up, surveying the remains of the old Sami village around them. In the back of her mind she could vividly see the Matriarch’s tent, once bustling with life. Watai Shihuah Fi’Shi, waking up to the sun with her four daughters, the eldest Kali and her daughters Shira, Lanai, and Aina, the second eldest Lani and her young daughter Mi’a’ani, Saliri, and the youngest Shara. Kalara had been especially close with Kali and her daughters, but remembered having to say goodbye to the family alongside the Antarchi on that accursed day. Shihuah’s granddaughter Mi’a’ani was the only one Kalara remembered that survived, shipped off to a rich Antarchi family to serve.

Later on, when the nation learned of the survival of Lanai’s youngest, Kalara felt the slightest bit of alarm. The bane of the Antarchi rule went on to overthrow the kingdom, yet Kalara and her family were never implicated for their crimes. It was Kalara’s mother that convinced the Ha’Coron’ of their “true intent” to overthrow the crown.

“You remind me too much of the past.” Kalara glared at the child, now sleeping soundly in what used to be Kali’s bed, before the cursed day had arrived. She shook her head and resumed her watch under the soft moonlight.

“Too much like Kali.”

[Ray]

February 1st, 2026
Agalane Palace, Agalane, Halora

The palace was always a marvel to be seen. It was a work of art from the 1300s, when Coraline Sago Agalane won the battle of Halis, a famous battle where the Haloran elites fought to the death over who would rule the Haloran nation. With the “mermadic vision” philosophy, the Agalane palace was erected from FiHami gold and Haloran coral. The open-concept first floor, supported by the coral and volcanic obsidian, was decorated with inscriptions, words of power and protection in the old Haloran language. To this day, the throne room, the ballroom, the kitchens, even the Coraline’s “Meeting Room” was out in the open for all who walk past to hear. Not that it really mattered, though. Peasants couldn’t really afford to take time off scraping together a living in order to eavesdrop on elite business. What mattered were the elite families of society, the people that actually mattered and had the ability to influence Halora for generations to come. These people must be entertained at all costs, to keep them happy. And they were unhappy with Kalina’s eternal singleness.

But truly, the state of her relationship status was not her fault. The Kostana’s only eligible mate was the most insane man to ever walk Pacifica’s shores. The Palagasa family had no eligible mates, neither did the Rusuhana family. There was an up-and-coming family, the Alagari family, but their children were far too young for Kalina, the eldest not even hitting 20 until later this year. There were no true eligible mates in Halora.

And apparently, across Pacifica. The call for eligible mates across Pacifica had failed, ending up with too many creepy messages from weird cultists in FiHami obsessed with “brainwashing”. There were a few messages from what would have been a good choice, had Kalina’s aunt Nari not decided she was “too ugly” for the royal family.

“Kalina, come see this.” Her aunt Nari tapped the metallic doorframe entrance to Kalina’s bedroom. Without waiting for acknowledgement (VERY rude), Nari opened the stained glass door and shoved her phone into Kalina’s face.

The screen was an image of a man standing in deep snow, overlooking an ocean that looked colder than life. His smile caught Kalina’s eye, followed by the way he wore his silky-smooth hair to his elbow. His suit screamed money, apparently he owned a major fashion line in Antarcha. He was wealthy, influential, and most importantly- drop dead gorgeous.

“You do not think he would bring shame to the family? He looks sort of…” Kalina trailed off, lifting a pinkie finger into the air as a demonstration.

“Nothing a good dinner wouldn’t fix.” Nari shrugged. “It’s simply an Antarchan thing, if you can afford to be thin in the winter then you must be rich, yatta yatta.”

“Well, yes. But.”

“You could use a few more feasts yourself, Ki Coraline.”

“Sure.” Kalina crossed her arms together and thought for a brief moment. “Let’s fly him in, what’s the worst that could happen?”

---

February 2nd, 2026

Liana Kostana was the first to fire words straight from Ha itself. She posted a picture of the Coraline with the “shameful foreigner” meeting for the first time, with the caption “Was Morago not pretty enough for you, Coraline?” Which drew too much attention from the other families. Tala Palagasa fired at Liana, saying “Morago wouldn’t know a fish from a bird”, a very harsh insult on one’s intelligence.

Then, the proverbial shitstorm struck. Shenn Alagari crossed a line that had been avoided since the earliest days of the Haloran settlers.

“Who are you again?”

The Haloran elites could very easily revoke the taxes from their peasants in a heartbeat, bankrupting the nation in an instant. And if they turned to war over each other, it would all be over in the blink of an eye.

Kalina sighed. It would be a long road to fixing this problem.

[Ray]

February 5th, 2025
Agalane Palace, Agalane, Halora

Court was in session.

All of the heads of the elite families met once a week to listen to the peasants complain about their lives. It was Kalina’s least favorite part of the week on a good day, a necessary chore to make the peasants who could afford to come feel heard so they don’t revolt. However, with the new tension among the elites over her new “foreigner toy”, Kalina just wanted to melt into her fine silver throne.

“And next, I have the good gentleman, Lashalos Igurika of Paltos, Kostana district.” The announcer boy walked in with an older man whose beard nearly touched the floor. He was gaunt, too gaunt to continue working the rice fields in his condition. Kalina assumed he wanted money or something.

“State your request.” Liana’s shrill voice was clear as day. Lashalos didn’t look up, he continued staring at the ground.

“My ladies, Your highness.” Lashalos’ voice was quiet, frail. “I wish to be given a plot of land to rule.”

Chuckles from the other elite women of Halora could be heard over the gentle breeze that blew through the palace.

“Between my ancestor, Tain Igurika, to me, we have amassed wealth valuing over 980 million dollars. I also have a son, an eligible mate for your highness.”

“Where is your wife?” Laega Paienas spoke up. “I see no wife to carry the fortune.”

“She died five years ago. And my son remains single.”

“Sir Igurika.” Kalina held up a hand. “How did this money come into your possession? Have you paid your taxes as due?”

“Of course, your highness.”

“He speaks the truth, there are no delinquent taxes owed by Kostana district.”

“Very well.” Kalina tilted her head for a second, deep in thought. She thought of the Antarchan, Hans Güllé, his smile and unassuming demeanor and wealth, then she thought of the man who requested a place among her elites. “I would like to meet your son. Do you have other sons?”

“Kaelin is just my eldest of three sons. My other two sons are selling their wares that have amassed value from their quality as we speak.”

“Bring Kaelin Igurika here. And if you yourself remarry I may grant you title and land to govern.”

Laega bowed as low as his frail bones would let him before turning to leave the hall. From the corner of her eye, she caught Liana Kostana glaring at her.

[Ray]

April 8th, 2026

The FiHami legal system had no idea how to handle the current situation. Finix was a ward of the state by technicality as she approached her 6th birthday. Everyone treated her as a god on Pacifica, trembling with fear when she so much as glanced in their general direction. The remaining priests described her as much calmer than her supposed predecessor, those that knew of the original Finix nearly 20 years ago noted that there was not an ounce of feral rage within the supposed reincarnation. Finix was a puzzle for the religious scholars, figuring out why her memories were “locked away”.

Finix wondered what life would be like in 20 years, when she would be allowed to rule without intervention from the Priesthood. She couldn’t remember her old life outside of the little bits she had been told about. Apparently she had been in love once, someone had taken her to the gravesite of some random guy she apparently knew in her past life. Yet, nothing woke up in her mind, no locked-away memories resurfaced. Would she ever remember? Or had the sun intentionally wiped everything clean? How Finix rationalized it, maybe the past life was too sad, so the sun wanted to give her a new life without the sadness, but the people of FiHami so desperately wanted the old Finix, that they couldn’t acknowledge the gift of new life that she received. They did everything in their power to “jostle” the “old” memories, creating new sadness.

Finix felt herself drift away as a messenger put an envelope on the desk too tall for her. The head priestess opened the envelope, reading it out loud, though Finix couldn’t process it. All she wanted to do was to ride the waves. She wanted to feel the ocean spray against her skin, like the professionals that she would watch.

“The Coraline of Halora is inviting us for a royal dinner. You will attend, Finix. I could get you a cute little outfit.”

“I want to talk to Antarcha.” Finix surprised herself with the authoritative voice. “Not Halora, Halora does not represent FiHami interests.”

“You just don’t remember right.” The high priestess put the letter back into the envelope as neatly as it had gone in. “We don’t like Antarcha, they kidnapped you. Remember?”

“No they didn’t-”

“SILENCE!” The high priestess slammed her hands on the desk, though Finix didn’t flinch. “You will go to this dinner, and you will not run away. You will do as you’re told.”

“Fine.”

The high priestess stood up, tapping Finix’ head with the envelope as a warning, which Finix understood well. Once the high priestess was gone, Finix jumped into the chair for the desk. In her mind’s eye, the actual Finix stood in front of her, tall and proud, stronger than the statue made her look. Behind her eyes was a feral rage, but her mouth had been masked, so she couldn’t speak.

“I want Hana back. I want Antarcha back. I want Kalara.”

Finix shook her head. Her mouth moved the wrapping above it, but no words came out.

“They want to keep me trapped here forever until I become you.”

The big Finix gestured toward the window like she was smashing it open. She imagined herself as Ha’fi, taking off into the jungle once again, but this time not being found. She would find Kalara, and Kalara would send her back down to Antarcha, with the nice lady who taught her how to read.

Maybe Finix left some notes?

Ha’fi quietly opened the drawers and rummaged through the papers, reading every single one of them. Most of them were useless correspondences, some old love letters, but the hardcover journal caught her attention. She listened for footsteps before pulling it out of the drawer and opening to the front page.

January 2nd, 2010

I am learning how to write. Eti made me a journal. I can read easy books. I hate everyone. The enemy is inside. They will not let me kill him. I want freedom. I miss dog. They killed dog.

The rest of the page had been scratched out and shorn, presumably in blind rage. Ha’fi skipped a few pages, to a subsequent entry.

June 21st, 2012

Today I am 10 years old. Eti said we can celebrate by walking on the beach. She said this place is called Nawa’aka and is owned by Halora so the Antarchi can’t get us here. The Halora crown wants us off the island though, because they want to have a party to celebrate their Coralini turning 14 next year and they have to do a lot of cleaning to fix the island again. It’s supposed to be a secret though, no one is allowed to talk about it. Then I did my Antarchi language lessons with Benjamin, he said I am really good at learning languages. I think it’s because it sounds like what they talked like in the orphanage.

Ha’fi gasped as she read a few more entries. She was smart, she could fight for her own liberation. She just had to study the journal, mention a few secrets. She looked up at Finix, who just nodded in approval. Finix slid the worn-out journal back into the drawer as quietly as she could.

If she played her cards right, her prison could become her salvation.

[Ray]

June 18th, 2014

Life on the Haloran island is hard enough without the elites with their fancy Finixi gold jewelry and silk-spun capes that guarded their backs breathing down our throats to hurry up. Every incursion we’ve tried seems to fail. The Antarchi know our every step. Just today, on our charge towards the west shores, the Antarchi nearly took my life out from under me. I watched people die in front of me and there was not a damn thing I could do. Benjamin explained that people look up to me as a symbol of resistance because of my childhood, and he thinks I could take over as leader if Raniki were to be killed in combat. I don’t want to think of such things. I want this over and done with.

*************

January 15th, 2000
Kopunaki Village

Faraka made his way the the largest tent that sat precisely at the middle of the village, adorned by beautifully-painted lines made to represent the oceans teeming with life. In his hand was the letter that his mother-in-law gave him, sealed away with tree sap. The middle-aged woman inside the tent invited him for a sip of tea, which Faraka obliged with a smile on his face.

“I’m glad you’re acting as a messenger for Kali, but she is going to get us all killed.” The woman sighed when she opened the letter up and skimmed over Kali’s messy handwriting. “We have suffered so much from raids. I don’t want to involve anyone else.”

“I can deliver the message-”

“But, for the sake of everyone, because this will only get worse, as it has been since the Antarchi takeover, we are in.”

Faraka nodded his head solemnly. He was well aware of the history since the murder of the last Finixi chief. At first, the Antarchi simply fashioned themselves as superior, and drove the Finixi out of old Ha’Hani through classic gentrification. They tore down the city, and remade it in their style. They changed the laws around to make sure wealth flowed into Ha’Hani, draining many of the surrounding villages of their resources in the process. 1950 rolled around, and Ha’Coron’ Hokupei was killed from the first “debt collector” rounds, as the Finixi people went into debts due to their inability to pay exorbient taxes imposed onto them.

The older woman was right, things will only continue to escalate.

“Yes, Watai’. I will deliver the message.”

That dusk, Faraka set off once again, with Nala rejoined after a day of socializing with the other dogs that made village life vibrant. She wagged her tail joyfully as they ventured back through the dense jungle between Kopunaki and Sami, arriving back to the walls by the next day’s sunrise.

“Faraka!” The young man greeted Faraka and Nala and quickly waved them in. “Any sightings?”

“No, none at all.” Faraka pat the man on his shoulder. “Everything is still ok?”

“The Antarchi were here yesterday. They took your mate’s youngest sister.”

“Lia?”

“Her family defaulted on their tax.”

Faraka stood there solemnly for a moment in silence. Warriors were supposed to defend their family against threats, but there was nothing anyone could have done to stop Lia getting thrown into the Antarchi slavery system.

As soon as he stepped foot into his own tent, his mate threw herself into Faraka’s arms with violent sobs. All Faraka could do was console her until her sobs quieted down.

**************

The months would pass, and random warriors from the village would be selected to relay messages all over the island. They travelled swiftly, by night, doing the utmost to avoid trouble.

People who knew how would write down their ideas on how to take out the Antarchi. One of the most prolific writers, Eti Ifi’ikuri from Kaishi village to the north, would become well-known in the rapidly-developing network. Other writers included Shi’iki Fi’Shi, Kalaia Hastofi, and Agali Hanatoga. They contributed ideas of organization, reworked how messages would be delivered to minimize risk of discovery, and set up allocation systems so no village starved itself out.

The efforts were momumental, and Faraka enjoyed his years of service as a “construction worker,” delivering messages to other villages under the guise of “building homes.”

On September 2nd, Faraka would find himself in danger.

His mate was busy with their youngest child who was born just a mere few months ago, when Kali cornered him with an urgent request while he worked on repairs to their shelter from the rainstorm after a particularly powerful cyclone crashed into the island.

“Faraka, I need you to run a message to Hao’ole in Lanasha village. We have secured a safe place to the south. Hao’ole is to work on transportation to ferry us there as we continue to organize.”

“Yes, Watai’.” Faraka set his hammer back into his belt and began his journey to Lanasha village, by the southern coast. But, an hour into his journey, the Antarchi military captured him. Faraka was never heard from again.

*************

“Mother, my mate has not been seen in over a month now. I don’t think the message got out.”

“Patience, daughter. Focus on your remaining child. Allow me to focus on all my remaining children.”

Ashina sighed, turning to face her last living child as they slept in her arms, blissfully unaware of the crackdowns. Since the capture of her eldest siblings, Ashina was now serving as her mother’s apprentice, all while caring for the infant.

“But mother-”

“Ashina, I know your mate is dead. Your siblings are either dead, or slaves. The raids are getting worse, I fear for our safety.” Kali allowed herself only the slightest show of emotion, a single tear forming in the corner of her eye. The stress had worn Kali to a frail, elderly woman, who continued to orchestrate the overthrow of the Antarchi from her home.

“What’s the plan, then?”

“Agali to the west. I want to get you out there just to make sure you and Finix are safe. Hao’ole has been redirected already.”

“Thank you, mother.”

************

February 4th, 2016

In Eti’s old notes, there’s mention of a base to the south that miss Hao’oke built in 2002. The Antarchi secured it when a Sami man was captured and killed in September. I suggested retaking that base, since it is closer to Fihani proper. Commander Hapushane thought it was a good idea, and I will be leading the charge. I’m scared, I have never commanded troops before. Part of me thinks they are sending me out to die, so they no longer have to deal with the “wild beast of Sami” who does nothing but jeapardize missions. But Eti said that it was a natural step for me, they sent intelligence to scout the island before assigning me to it. I still think I’m being led to the grave, though.

[Ray]

September 12th, 2016
Lananaika, Magarani Precinct, Halora

*I walked through the Magarani district today, accompanied by the Coraline Waikama and her daugher, Kalina. Waikama left us alone together to discuss as “future leaders of Pacifica”, some grand idea she had when our island nations are barely findable on a map. Anyways, Kalina is very manipulative, very cunning, just like her mother. She clearly sees my age as a weakness. She sees my lack of education as a weakness. She sees me as nothing but a feral monster, ripe for control. In fact, I think that is how all these rich Halorans see. They see fihuahe and power, and will do anything to get their desires.

Magarani as a hole is very rife with poverty, the citizens are frail, like a slight breeze would topple them over. Some people I think are starving, yet the Coraline and her court claim that I am “bearing false whiteness”, which I didn’t quite understand the phrase. I need to work on my Austral, truly. I want to help the peasantry of Halora with all my heart, maybe one day when Fihani is free and stable, we can put pressure on Halora to help their populace.*

---

April 11th, 2026
Agalane, Agalane Precinct, Halora

“Welcome, Finixi Priestess of Ahanatawa. Welcome, Reborn Child.” The woman by runway of the Agalane family’s private airport bowed her head to the ground as the Priestess Ana’awi descended from the plane. The Haloran woman’s traditional fish-scale tube top refracted the sunlight in ways that made it painful to gaze in her direction. Her skirt billowed out in the gentle sea-breeze, tamed only by the heavy golden belt around her waist, engraved with details only the Haloran priesthood knew about.

“Thank you.” Ana’awi smiled as she came to a halt in front of the Haloran priestess. “Remind me, what is your name?”

“I am Kira, the Coraline’s younger sister.”

“I see.” Ana’awi looked past Kira, sweeping her eyes all over the palm trees and floral arrangements surrounding the airport, as if searching for something. “And the Coraline?”

“She will be here shortly. And the Coron’?” Kira peeked behind the Finixi woman and into the open plane door.

“She will exit the plane now.” Ana’awi raised her voice loud enough, urgently enough, for Ha’fi to tiptoe down the stairs and stand right next to Ana’awi.

Ha’fi stared at the women as they went on with the “pleasantries” of the moment, discussing weather and food in a language Ha’fi didn’t really understand. They knew that the Halorans liked to speak in languages other than Haloran, and it appeared that today’s language of choice was Alman. Ha’fi pretended to listen along, resisting the urge to loosen the tight braids that Ana’awi forced their hair into, so tight it felt like the braids were pulling their forehead up to the crown of their head. They resisted the urge to play with any of the feathers woven into their hair, or flap their arms up and down to make the oversized poncho they wore “flap” up and down like a bird.

“I will walk you to the palace now.” Kira spoke directly to Ha’fi now, in plain Finixi. “My sister cannot wait to see you, Finix.”

“I can’t wait to speak to her either.” Ha’fi did their best to smile, though the nerves did not die down whatsoever.

---

September 12th, 2016

“Parlez-vouz Boréal?”

“Eh?”

“Hablas Spaninol?”

“Eh???”

“Sprichst du Alman?”

“You speak Austral or Finixi.” Finix glared at the older teenager in front of her. Austral was a bit of a stretch for Finix, it was a bit harder than Antarchi, which was blended enough with Finixi to be easier to figure out. But all those languages that were just sprung out at her sounded like pure gibberish.

“Oh, I do apologize for the grave offense. It is unbecoming of a Coralini to offend an esteemed guest, especially one from such a destitute background.”

Finix blinked. Kalina almost seemed to enjoy the nonsense she spoke, as if being unintelligible brought sincere satisfaction to her soul. Kalina’s laugh ground Finix’ paper-thin patience to the width of an eyelash.

“Listen, Finix. You are but a rose-bud, your petals have not bloomed. You lack the rigorous education required of a world leader, like what I will be when my mother returns to sea. When Fihani gains independence, you will make us all the laughingstock of Pacifica. There is no way a god would choose you to bear the hope of Pacifica.”

“Can you speak in normal speak? Is this possible for you or are you a fucking show-off?”

"To summarize what I had just explained to you, in terms an imbecile would comprehend… you’re too stupid. Other countries will attack you. They’ll pounce on Fihani like a shark does a seal. They’ll play with you, then they’ll chew on your arms and dangle you by the legs."

“You no me.”

Kalina smirked. Finix’ broken Austral felt like a sudden weakness, rendering Finix small and afraid.

“We’ll come to an agreement one day. We’ll be best friends. Halora and Fihani will be close friends.”

---

April 12th, 2026

“Ah, Finix. It truly is wonderful to see you, especially after everything you’ve done.” Kalina seemed warm and welcoming, but the words from Finix’ old journals had taught Ha’fi the truth.

“Thank you for meeting us today.” Ha’fi bowed cautiously. “Your kindness is kind.”

“Oh, absolutely. I just wanted to see if you remembered what we discussed the last meeting we had?”

“Of course.” Ha’fi did their best to look calm, but fear consumed then.

[Ray]

August 5th, 2019
Agalane, Halora

“It is so wonderful of a foreign dignity to pay their respects to the deceased adversarial powers.” Kalina took her seat next to Finix, fanning her face gently. Her brown eyes, like dark coffee grounds, scanned Finix over, pausing to pass her judgements over everything she deemed unfit. “Do they teach you how to dress for funerals in the Antarchi orphanages?”

“Shut up.” Finix growled under her breath. As much as she did not want to show up for this funeral party, her advisors suggested it would be a good idea to keep the peace between them and the Haloran elite. A show of goodwill, being unbothered by the cruel manipulations of the Haloran elites.

“That is no way to talk to an ally. Would you want to know what happens to those who offend the Coraline?”

“What do you want.”

“Many things, child.” Kalina’s smile was too perfect, almost predatory. “Fihani’s gold would be a decent start, for a fair trade, of course.”

“Right. Aren’t you supposed to be grieving your mother?”

“Yes, I miss her so much.” Kalina glanced to the side, towards where journalists were watching and taking notes. She began to sniffle, wrapping her arms around Finix in a hug. “Thank you for caring so much about me, little sister. I love you so much.”

Finix locked eyes with the journalist for a brief second, just long enough to register sheer terror in his eyes before he took off to the other side of the room.

“Get off me.”

“No, it’s better if the reporters believe we do tolerate each other. We need to be a united front.”

---

April 12th, 2026

“Finix, do you remember my mother’s funeral? That was the last time we met in person, wasn’t it?”

“Of course I do. I especially remember being surprised that you thought I was a friend.”

“Your Austral is much better than it used to be.”

“Thank you!” Ha’fi felt the hairs on their neck rise when Kalina leaned in with her eyes squinted into a razor-thin line, as if she were reading their very thoughts and uncovering their deception.

“I am so glad you came back. I missed my dear friend.” Kalina leaned back with a grin. “I had many things I wanted to talk to you about, mutually-beneficial economic treaties, I am assuming you’ll need to focus on your advisory court as well, I can make a few suggestions.”

“I can handle my advisory court. But economic treaties sound fun, what do you have in mind?” Adults confused Ha’fi, but Kalina made them nervous.

Can’t trust her.

[Ray]

July 7th, 2002
Kankriton, New Antarcha (Ha’Hani, Fihami)

“Your eyes sparkle like aquamarine gems against the light. Your hair reminds me of stalks of wheat swaying in a summer’s breeze. Your lips are a sweet cherry red, plump like the fruit, too.” James gazed into the blue eyes of the woman in front of him, whose silky golden hair was woven into a long simple braid, and who flaunted the richness of her baby blue chiffon dress with her dainty hand gestures. His own cheeks were flush with romance, and how his own imaginations ran wild.

“Your majesty, you flatter me.”

James basked in the sound of her light, airy chuckles and coquette hair-twirls. He was deeply in love, he could feel it, and he reveled in it.

“No, it is you who flatter me.” James kneeled to the ground now, grabbing her hand and holding it up to his mouth. “You will be my empress, miss Arsana Kronschau.”

“Yes, my dearest.”

James stood up to his feet and helped Arsana up to hers. Under the full moon they danced like nothing in the world mattered.

---

July 14th, 2002
Agali Island, Halora

“The Emperor has taken the lady of House Kronschau as his wife now.” The messenger crossed his arms before the older woman in front of him. “He will be producing heirs to solidify his claim, before one of the other houses decides he’s too weak.”

“Thank you, Benjamin.” Eti Ifi’ikuri rested her scarred hand on the man’s oval head with a sigh. “Can you run this to Sami village? There should be many traders there tomorrow who would love for this information to be spread.”

“Of course I will.” Benjamin shook Eti’s hand and walked out of the makeshift hut, leaving Eti by herself.

Eti was a child when the Antarchi began their slaughter, and she grew up craving vengeance. She began making like-minded friends when she became matriarch of her home village, and found support when she alone watched everything burn. There was nothing she could have done to save her family, no heroic act. The only thing that could be done is burn the Antarchi back.

And for now, they could just work on getting the Haloran island ready to house as many people as possible, and run information back and forth to minimize loss of life.

---

November 20th, 2003
Kankriton

“Your majesty.”

“Finixi scum. State your purpose.”

“I have a gift.”

“What is it.”

Kalara walked up to the emperor with the man in ropes under her control. She threw the man down to the ground and took a step back as she prepared her explanation.

“This man was caught traveling between Sami and Farika with a note.”

“Oh really?” James stood up from his chair. He grabbed Kalara’s face with his hand as if he were examining her every detail. “Why did you come all this way to present to me a traitor alive and well?”

“Because I figured you would want the fun.” Kalara read the piece of paper out loud, emphasizing names and places until she finished.

“You would be right.”

---

December 3rd, 2003
Farika Village, New Antarcha (Farika, Hahuaki, Fihami)

The changing of the seasons was something everyone anticipated. Horrible storms would pass then leave behind nothing but sun for months on end. Large swaths of land goes up in flame, then new growth comes underneath. One day, everyone is happy, the next day, everyone in the village was lined up by the main road, watching the Antarchi army march down the road. The man in their command hopped down from the horse he rode in on, twirling a pistol in his right hand.

I watched with suspense, no one I knew had skin like his, pale like the clouds in the sky, with platinum hair that hurt to look at. He looked like a ghost, wearing a navy blue uniform and large silver crown that looked too warm and heavyfor the dense jungle.

“You all wonder why I am here today.” He announced loudly, without bothering to wait for the translator to speak. “Does anybody know about plans of treason? Gross, despicable plans to grow an army?”

The man’s smile was cruel in the harsh, dry sun.

“I want every man of every age to step forth immediately.”

Mother wept as she sent me up to the men. The last thing I heard was her wailing as their bullets blasted through our skulls.

[Ray]

January 4th, 2004
Sami Village, New Antarcha

The hum of her family and the other families working hard on village maintenance was always a welcome sound. It made the outside pressure feel further away, and made writing letters to her friends across their Fihani more enjoyable. Faraka’s capture had rattled their communities, and unfortunately, the Antarchi government knew they were attempting to organize. From the vast depths of their mind, Hanawane, a scholar from Kana’ute up north, had modified the ancient Finixi script enough to create a new script, to act as a code among themselves. From the primarily Kokostali village to the East of the island, Nimara helped teach people the old Kalweiric language, with no need for making sounds. And Kali hosted them all in Sami, where all the developments spread to the rest of the island villages.

Eti had finalized the secret route to the future fleet that would carry them all to Halora, where they would train soldiers to fight the Antarchi. And Kalara, a dear friend, was busy keeping the Antarchi emperor entertained.

“Kali.” Kalara barged into Kali’s home with a smile on her face. “Kali, the emperor is marrying an Antarchi elite. He just called me his dirty bird-brain. This may sound bad, but I have access to the castle, and if he thinks I serve him well, then I can rob wealth from those elites and bring them back to the cities.”

“So he called you a slur and is forcing you to be a slave. How did you get here?”

“No, Watai’, not a slave. Elite status in Kankriton.”

Kali couldn’t stop the look of disappointment from contaminating the facade of happiness. Yet, Kalara seemed happy about the continued espionage attempts, so she couldn’t complain to the young assassin.

“Time is ticking, Kalara. The emperor needs to die before he has children. We had already heard the news well before you arrived back here.”

A little voice in the back of Kali’s mind said to be wary, but she shushed that little voice down before it could get louder.

“Oh, I tried to get here as fast as I could, but I can’t risk being caught for a spy. I’ll never get my chance to get close enough to the emperor if I get caught.”

“Very well.”

Kali watched as Kalara dashed out of her humble abode in disbelief. It had felt like the plans were all falling apart, but it would be ok. Kalara was a natural socialite, she would be able to worm her way to the emperor.

[Ray]

March 5th, 2004
Sami Village, Fihami

The sun’s harsh rays beat down Ashina’s back like flaming-hot coals. Her sweat pooled in every crevice, every joint, every fold of fabric that clung to her smaller frame as she worked to clear back encroaching jungle, all with a rambunctious toddler who wiggled around as if they were oblivious to the heat in the sling carrier fashioned out of strong fabric.

“Finix, please sit still, you’re making it hard to work.”

There was no confirmation that the child so much as cared for Ashina’s pleas.

In normal circumstances, a man would do the thankless work of clearing ground for shelters and tilling earth for farmland, but Faraka had been gone for years now, and the last few men who remained were elderly, no longer capable of back-breaking labor under the giant deadly laser in the sky. In normal circumstances, Ashina would be with Kali, caring for the children and teaching them all how to live. But these were not normal circumstances, and there were rumors of raids on the horizon to replenish slave labor.

When Ashina had all the manual labor she could take with a squirming toddler on her back, she staggered towards the village center with her remaining strength, and allowed Finix loose to run around the people like a feral chicken. Ashina muttered a prayer under her breath for a cool breeze to lift the ocean of sweat off her body, but the air stayed stagnant and imposing.

“How are the fields?” Kali’s thin, frail voice brought Ashina out of the exhausted haze she was in.

“Very overgrown.”

“I see.” Kali sighed, laying a wrinkled hand onto Ashina’s hand. Her voice was unsteady, she was holding back tears with every word she spoke.

“I don’t want to leave everyone, most of all you. You’re young and inexperienced, you haven’t gained the wisdom to be a matriarch for this village, or take on the burden with the Finixi Freedom movement.”

“Why are you talking like this?” Ashina held her breath. She understood what Kali was saying, the stress had been eating away at her, and Ashina suspected that Kali had been sacrificing her own rations for the sake of the village. The wear was evident, etched into every wrinkle and gray hair.

“You know what I am saying.”

The two women sat in silence as the sun set under the canopy of the jungle. The air began to cool down, and Ashina’s distant relative Nahani lit the dinner fire. From the North Gate approached a familiar Antarchi man with ruffled mahogany hair and eyes that looked like the fresh green grasses after a summer storm.

“Greetings, Watai’, I hope you’re well.” Benjamin’s too-formal Finixi rolled off his tongue as gracefully as a bull in a china shop.

“Ben-sha. A surprise to see you.” Kali smiled to the Antarchi man. A pleasant smile, for a friend.

“I wish I had better news.” Benjamin shook his head. “The Emperor is sending an extermination squad for you. My brother is leading it.”

“I’ll probably die before they get here.” Kali sighed. “How much time to we have?”

“Three days.”

“That’s not long- FINIX!” Ashina leaped to her feet in time to catch the toddler before they flung themself into the dinner bonfire. She rapidly snuffed out a few coily strands that had caught on fire before it could devour more of the toddler’s hair. “Three days is not a long time.”

“No, it is not. Benjamin, please tell Eti to start evacuating people to Halora. We need to kick off the next phase of the revolt, whether we are ready or not.”

“I will.” Benjamin bowed once again, then trotted out of the village once more.