The boat ride was quiet the whole way there. The island should have been a haven to the young men on their way there, but it was quite apparent that they were all going to be pitted against one another. They assumed that meant they weren't all going to make the cut, and some of them would be going home. Or worse.
What was worse than home, though? For most of them they were treated like lepers, demons even. Allen knew most of his village despised his existence, they called his presence a bad omen, and blamed every misfortune on him. That wasn't very often, but it only takes a few months of lost keys and bad crops for someone to get sick of being blamed for things they had no control over.
So haven or not, they were all nervous. They didn't want to make friends either, because they would just end up being slowed down if this turned into some kind of competition. Whether or not it would was still up in the air, but something about the feeling in the air told them they were going to be squaring off against one another, and it would determine their future.
All of them had the black marks, unknown in origin. Most of them had been told it meant they were cursed, marked for damnation. Allen was told it was because he was pure evil, but he'd never done much for anyone to think that. He'd gotten into fights in school because kids had made fun of his arm, but that was to be expected, right?
Most of the other boys had an arm, a leg, and in one case half of his face, marked with black skin. What the mark meant, they hadn't the slightest clue. He'd hoped to learn more about it on Onyx Island, but he wasn't sure it'd be available information unless he pushed to the front of the pack. They'd all been told they were special, and that they were going to meet a master who was like them, whom trained in the ancient Ryusoken style known as Obsidian Dragon Style. Allen hoped that this fighting style would give him two things. Firstly, information on why his arm is black, and what it means. Secondly, he wanted to become strong enough to be a great marine.
The Marine bit was mostly out of spite to his uncle. He'd never had a father or mother, he'd lived with Aunt Lila and Uncle Shu all his life. His parents died shortly after his birth, and guess who Uncle Shu blamed. Allen of course. So when Allen said he was going to run away and join the Marines, and Uncle Shu laughed in his face, saying how he'd never make it, Allen's mind was made up.
The boat crashed into the shore rather abruptly, nobody had said anything to their little group of passengers, but when the bald-headed man with the two black arms walked into the room and motioned for them to leave, they assumed they had arrived at Onyx Island.
It was good to be back on solid ground. Allen hadn't been on a boat in years, and he seemed to have lost his sea legs. No worries, when he enlisted with the marines he was sure he'd get right back into the swing of things. Though, the ease that'd washed over him was short lived.
"Alright, listen up." The bald man spoke, calling all of them to him. They stood, still half blinded by the sunlight, on the beach before a man who'd many decades of training under his belt, and had plenty of scars to show he'd used his training.
The bald man walked along the line of boys, pushing them into pairs. He didn't explain anything, he just said the word 'fight'. Just like that the majority of the boys had grabbed each other by the throat and began wrestling in the sand.
Allen paused and looked at the man. "But why?"
All the young men paused, fists full of sand and each other's clothes. They expected a verbal, if not physical, berating. Instead, the bald man laughed heartily, patting Allen on the shoulder.
"Thirty years it took! Thirty whole years! Finally, one of them had the sense to ask why!" Baldy laughed, so hard his eyes were now watering.
"Alright, kid. You win." the bald man said, pulling Allen away from the pack. "The rest of you, you get to fight it out for second place. I expect a winner by noon, so make it snappy."
The others didn't hesitate. They all wanted to cement themselves as the strongest in the group, but Allen looked at them all confused, ans somewhat pissed. He was strong too, he wanted to fight damn it!
"Don't worry kid, Master Iro is gonna want to handle you himself. I'd not waste any thought on the rest of those punks. They've got a lot to learn before their ready. They'll stick with me for awhile until they even get to meet Iro, so consider yourself lucky." The bald man explained. Allen seemed a bit distressed by this information. Sure it was nice he'd get to train with the master, but what about asserting himself as pack leader, and all that stuff?
"I wasn't expecting this... Mr... um, I think I missed your name." Allen said, rubbing his head embarrassed.
"Never told you it, but it's Zeke. Nice to meet you, Mr. Yagami." Zeke laughed, pushing him through the temple door. Allen stood, unsure of what to do, and not sure he was even supposed to be there. Allen looked around, and all he could see was black stone, carved into marvelous murals that stretched down each end of a large hall. At the end of the hall, a man in a pale golden robe sat, meditating while incense burned before him. Before Allen could speak, the old man called out.
"Ahhh, so today it begins." The man, whom Allen assumed was Master Iro, said with a deep sigh of relief. Allen wasn't sure what he meant at the time, but surely he meant the beginning of the end.
WC: 1,063
