The fog had lifted some. Two figures walked along a worn dirt path.
Freya led, her hooves crunching softly on the trail. She moved with a steady pace. Behind her, Arbor trailed. Their arms hung behind their head, fingers interlocked, and their gaze drifted toward everything except the path in front of them.
Their attention wandered with every step. Their mind, however, stayed firmly on one singular thought.
"But does it have to be every day, though?" Arbor asked. Their fox ears drooped for maximum "woe is me" energy.
Freya's eye twitched.
"Yes, Arbor," she replied sharply. She didn't look back. "The key to improvement is practice."
"Yeah, yeah, I've heard that before." Arbor glanced up at the canopy, squinting. "But does it have to be, every, day? I rarely get any free ti—"
That was it. Freya stopped.
Her hand slowly moved to the hilt of her sheathed blade hanging at her side. Her fingers curled around the handle, and as she gripped it, the runes on her hand flickered to life. The glow started dim, then grew steadily brighter as the shapes of thunderclouds and lightning bolts appeared along her skin.
Arbor ears shot straight up, twitching frantically. Their pupils shrank to sharp slits as a sudden jolt of awareness filled their entire body.
"W-Wait, wait, Freya, c'mon—"
Too late.
The sky shifted.
Above Arbor's head, dark clouds coiled out of nowhere, swirling together like ink being poured into water. Red sparks crackled. The air buzzed with static.
"FREYA, WAIT, I WAS JOKING!" Arbor shouted. They waved their hands in wild panic, hopping backward as fast as their fox-like feet could manage. "CALM DO—"
CRACK-BOOM!
A bolt of red lightning shot down from the sky like a spear of light, splitting the air with a deafening roar. It struck the ground just between their legs, sending a shock of force upward. The blast rattled their bones, jolting through their entire body.
Their eyes went wide. Their limbs froze in place. Blue smoke curled up from the ground.
Poof.
Where Arbor had been standing, there was now a small, wide-eyed blue fox. Their ears were pinned flat, their fur puffed up twice its usual size. Their small tail twitched once, twice. They blinked slowly.
"…Rude," they thought, their small fox voice high-pitched and not at all word.
Freya's arms folded across her chest. Her eye looked down at Arbor with pure disappointment.
"Next time, you'll think before you open your mouth," she said simply, and with that, she walked on, her hooves clacking softly on the bridge ahead.
Arbor sat there staring after her. The bridge stretched over the river, and far in the distance, a floating stone stadium hovered in the sky. Suspended like a ship above unseen waves, crowned by a huge false blue moon that hung directly above it. It glowed faintly, the light reflected on the surface of the water below. The moon loomed, almost laughing at Arbor's misfortune.
"…She's the villain here," Arbor thought, shaking themselves off.
They padded after her, before another swirl of blue smoke surrounded them. Their fox form shifted back into their humanoid shape.
They caught up quickly, walking just a few paces behind Freya.
"...I'm just saying," Arbor began, arms folded behind their head again, "if I get struck by lightning every day, it's technically counterproductive to my training."
Freya didn't respond, but the soft glow of a lightning rune flickered faintly on her knuckle.
Arbor went silent.
They hadn't walked much further before the sound of rustling bushes caught both of their attention. Freya stopped mid-step, her ear twitching, and Arbor's ears twitched too, already alert. The rustling came from just ahead, off the path to the right.
"...Wild animal?" Arbor guessed, glancing toward the bushes.
"Not wild," Freya replied. "Too steady."
The bushes shook again. Then, with a loud rustle, a young elf boy emerged, his posture loose but deliberate, like he owned every inch of ground he walked on. His short, messy, dark green hair had bits of leaves tangled in it, though he didn't seem to notice or care. His green jacket hung off his shoulders like a cloak, his arms not even in the sleeves. On his chest, a hawk-shaped crest marked his shirt, and two gold chains dangled from each long ear, each adorned with the same hawk insignia. His eyes were sharp.
"Sorry to interrupt whatever this is, teacher," he called. He didn't even glance at Arbor. "But don't we have somewhere to be?"
A sheep-like girl, trailed behind him, her shorter stature forcing her to step quickly to keep up. Her dress was like Freya's, but the main color was deep garnet-purple instead of Freya's crimson-red. Her horns barely poked up past her short, fluffy hair, her face round with youth. Her eyes darted between Freya and Arbor.
Arbor glanced at her, then at Freya. Their eyes squinted.
"...family maybe?" Arbor thought, raising a brow.
"Oh, thank Atheria, you two are here," Freya sighed. "I don't think I could take another minute of this. Why are you two lurking around in the bushes"
"We got sidetracked." the elf boy said. He jerked his thumb toward himself with a cocky grin. "I was trying to show her a shortcut."
The sheep-girl raised a pointed eyebrow at the elf.
The elf just brushed it off, "It worked out, didn't it?"
The sheep-girl sighed, "We got lost, Alek."
Alek shot her a playful glare, "Details."
Freya's eye locked firmly on Alek. "You decided to 'lead' and got lost. I suppose I should be grateful you didn't wander into a drake's den." She folded her arms unimpressed.
Alek shrugged, "But we made it, didn't we? Sorry though."
Just then Freya's hand twitched at her side. A faint white light began to shine from the runes on her fingers and palm.
Her eyes narrowed. "That's not right." Her voice was low and focused. Her gaze darted toward the treeline. Her fingers moved, her palm curling as if gripping invisible threads.
Arbor blinked. "What's not right?"
Freya didn't answer. Her gaze locked in the distance, her expression hardening.
"The rune ar-" Freya paused thinking of what to say.
"I'll be back later. The Legion has called," she said suddenly. Her eyes darted toward Eva, then Alek. "I'll meet you at the training grounds. Don't wander. Don't slow down. And do not follow me."
Her hands moved quickly, pressing her foot into the dirt below it began to glow. She drew a circle, her fingers glowing faint red as runes ignited.
She stepped into the center of the circle.
"Bye."
Lightning flashed. The air cracked with a sudden, deafening boom, and Freya was gone.
Silence.
The only sound left was the soft buzz of static that lingered in the air where she'd stood. Small wisps of smoke curled from the spot.
Arbor blinked. "Oh wow. That was pretty cool"
Alek turned, squinting at Arbor for a moment before his grin widened. "So… you're that fox, huh? The one that skipped all the provisions?"
Arbor tilted their head, their eyes narrowing just a bit. "Something like that."
Alek's grin grew sharper, his eyes flicking up and down. "Glad to see we've got some talent on the team. Maybe even enough to rival my own."
Arbor just blinked slowly. Then, without another word, they turned and started walking away.
"Okay, cool. I'm going over here now."
The sheep-girl's shoulders bounced with a soft laugh. She stepped past Alek and walked toward Arbor. Her eyes squinted slightly, as if searching for something. Her eyes glowed faintly pink for a moment, the soft shift of color subtle but noticeable.
Arbor's ears flicked. They felt it.
A shift.
It was faint, but their body reacted before their mind caught up. A subtle push of aura flicked outward from them. It wasn't enough to knock anything over, but it was enough to disrupt the unseen effect that had been focused on them.
Eva blinked. Her eyes returned to soft green, and she tilted her head, curious.
Her smile widened. "Nice to meet you, I'm Eva, Freya's little sis if you couldn't tell. I've been stuck with him for a while," she said, her eyes flicking toward Alek.
Eva now whispered so that Alek couldn't hear. "That's Alek, he's the elven prince of Nytherion, but 7th in line, I think. So don't let his title bother you." Eva backed up from Arbor, now acting like she hadn't just dropped some important information. "Nice to see a new face."
"Don't get too comfortable," Alek called out, in an annoyed tone. "You heard Freya. We're wasting daylight. If we want to make it to the training grounds, we should move."
Eva glanced at Arbor, then at Alek, then sighed. "Fine. Fine Let's go."
Arbor shrugged. "Sure, fearless leader."
15 Minutes Later
Beams of hot sunlight spilled through the swaying branches. The air smelled faintly of moss and wildflowers, clean and sharp in Arbor's nose.
They sneezed.
Arbor's legs ached with each step, a dull throb of exertion creeping up from their ankles. They let out a long, dramatic sigh.
"Maybe we should stop and take a break," Arbor muttered, rolling their shoulders and stretching their arms high. Their voice was deliberately sluggish. "I'm getting pretty tired, and I know you guys are feeling it too."
No response at first. Arbor glanced over at Alek, walking a few paces ahead. His posture was rigid, arms swinging in controlled arcs.
He didn't even slow down.
"I expected a more… capable companion," Alek said, his voice cold. "Are you going to contribute to the team, or just slow us down with your whining? We've only been walking for ten minutes."
Arbor stopped mid-stretch. For a moment, they just stared at Alek's back, brow raised in disbelief.
"Complaining is a skill, you know," they said, flicking their bangs out of their face. "Keeps morale somewhere between miserable and tolerable. A heavy balance, I assure you." Their eyes darted to the ground where a small, flat stone sat half-buried in the dirt. They crouched, plucked it free, and flipped it over in their palm. "Besides, you've got enough ego to carry whatever we have ahead. Maybe I'll just sit back and watch you show off."
Alek stopped walking.
He turned to face them, his eyes narrowed like Arbor had stolen something important to them.
"You think this is a joke?" he said quietly. His arms crossed over his chest. "We are the lucky few with a future as legion members. The sooner you stop treating this like a stroll, the better."
Arbor glanced at the stone in their hand, rolling it between their fingers. It was smooth, flat, and cool to the touch. With a casual flick, they tossed it a foot in the air and caught it. "Right, right. I'll be sure to add 'counting my blessings' to my to-do list," they said, still eyeing the stone like it was a rare find. "But as for contributing..." They turned the stone in their palm one last time, then looked up at Alek with a grin so wide it was almost painful.
"Look at this." Arbor held the stone up like it was an ancient relic. "I'm already doing my part. Rock collecting. Essential to the protection of Eden. You should try it sometime, Your Highness." Their grin widened as they waved the rock like a ceremonial fan. Arbor continued "Now what exactly are you contributing? Besides the smell of overconfidence, I mean?". Arbor now holding their nose fanning away imaginary smells.
A visible shift ran through Alek's body. His arms dropped slowly from his chest, his fingers flexing at his sides. Arbor watched, curious, as his breath deepened, nostrils flaring. It was like watching water boil — slow at first, then all at once.
"What are you babbling on about, fox!" Alek hissed, his eyes locking on Arbor like they were a target. "I'm here to prove myself, to fix the mess this place has become! If you had half a mind to—"
"—Fix Eden, huh?" Arbor cut in, tilting their head as they stepped closer, their hands shoved deep in the pockets of the kimono. Their eyes were closed, lips pulled into a crooked grin. "By barking orders and looking down on everyone? Wow, so inspiring. Maybe next time try leading without that stick up your—" They tapped the side of their head, eyes flicking upward in mock thought. "—oh, wait. That's probably the only thing keeping you upright."
The boiling finally spilled over.
Alek moved in a single, sharp motion, fingers darting to his belt under his coat. The daggers left their sheaths with a metallic scrape that echoed through the forest. His knuckles were clenched around the hilts, the plain twin blades gleaming in the patchy sunlight.
"Honestly, I don't know how you even made it this far," Alek said, his voice lower now, steadier somehow. The kind of steady that comes right before someone makes a terrible decision. "If you can't take this seriously, get out of my way before you drag us all down."
"Here we go again," Eva muttered from behind, loud enough for both of them to hear. She hadn't stopped walking, leaning against a tree now, arms folded, her eyes flicking between them like she'd seen this show before.
Arbor pressed their back to a tree, hands still shoved in their pockets, grin still firmly in place. "Ooo, a dagger," they said, eyes flicking to the glint of steel in Alek's hands. "Scary stuff, Your Highness. What's the matter? Can't handle a few words?" Their grin grew wider, showing teeth. "You had a lot of things to say before. Can't handle it coming back at you without weapons, eh?"
Alek's breathing grew louder. His eyes darted between Arbor's face and the space just to their side, like he was weighing his options. His knuckles tightened on the daggers, tendons sharp against his skin.
"You have no idea what I've had to sacrifice," he growled. "What I've given up to be here, in this silly forest, surrounded by you silly animals." His eyes narrowed. "Unlike you, I'm actually trying to make a difference for my people."
Arbor's grin vanished. Their eyes stayed on Alek's face, unblinking.
"Yeah, yeah. We get it," Arbor muttered, voice quieter now, but still sharp. "You want to be some sort of hero. A savior. The perfect little prince who's going to fix everything." Their eyes darted down to the dirt, then back to his face, slower this time. "But sorry to tell you this — if you really cared about anyone but yourself, you'd stop pretending you're better than everyone else."
The dagger left Alek's hand so fast that Arbor barely registered it.
The blade sank into the dirt an inch from their foot, quivering from the force of the throw. For a long second, neither of them moved. Everything around them had gone still.
Arbor's eyes flicked down to the dagger, then slowly back up to Alek. Their grin dropped for only a second but went back up as they saw the dagger wobble slowly. "Missed," they said, voice light and sweet like honey.
"Enough!" Alek's voice ripped through the quiet, his face flushed, his breath shallow and fast. "If you can't pull your weight, then maybe you don't belong here at all!"
There was a hum, quiet but sharp. Eva's eyes flashed from green to glowing pink. Her gaze shifted from Alek to Arbor, and that glow lingered. A bit of a magical pink aura flared.
"Both of you," Her voice came out calm but with a pressure that demanded attention. "Calm. Down."
For a moment, neither of them spoke. Arbor stuffed their hands into their pockets and tilted their head, still grinning. "I'm chill," they muttered, their eyes locked on Alek. "No need to worry about me."
"Whatever," Alek grunted, turning away from Arbor. His boots crushed stones as he stormed down the path.
Arbor crouched down, plucked his dagger from the dirt, and spun it once between their fingers before tossing it underhand. It landed ahead of Alek, tip-first in the ground.
"Oops," Arbor called, grinning wide. "Guess I'm still working on my aim." Arbor was a bit surprised at the throw. They had put a bit of magic into the throw, something they learned from a book they read. The blade just went where they wanted it to. Arbor wasn't at all confident in their throwing abilities, but they couldn't let everyone else know this.
Eva ran her hands down her face, groaning softly. "Two fools in a forest," she muttered. "This is gonna be a long day."
The forest path widened, the dense curtain of trees giving way to an open clearing. The arena lay before them - a colossal 300-foot square-stone platform, hovering 10 feet above the ground. Its surface shimmered faintly, catching the glow of the enormous, moon-shaped rock floating above it. The rock seemed to be an old scoreboard for games played in the far past. It also gave an unsettling pulse, with a gentle blue magic aura, casting an otherworldly glow over the space below.
Arbor tilted their head back, squinting up at the glowing rock. It hovered like it had nowhere better to be, with an odd hum to it. Not a sound — more like pressure on their ears. Something watching.
"Great," Arbor muttered, brushing a stray leaf off their shoulder. "The only rock I hate." Something about it made Arbor's spine tingle.
The arena itself was a relic from another time. Vines somehow manage to crawl up its sides, as if they were trying to pull it back down to earth and assimilate the arena into the forest. Leaves cluttered the ground like forgotten confetti, and faint trails of sticky tree sap ran down its edges. Floating stairs lead up to the arena, hovering just slightly off balance as if the magic holding them up was fleeting. Some of the steps sagged, and one or two cracked when Alek stepped on them. Arbor's gaze followed the cracks as they splintered out like spiderwebs. Below, Arbor saw some steps already buried in the dirt below.
"Was there really know better place to train," Arbor muttered, stuffing their hands into their pockets as they followed him up.
The stands flanking either side of the arena were just as worn, wooden seats lined with moss and dirt from years of neglect. It wasn't hard to imagine crowds sitting there once, cheering for duels or tournaments. But now, it was empty. Hollow. The kind of place that made footsteps sound too loud. The stillness made Arbor feel like they were trespassing on something forgotten. They hated it.
"Alright," Alek said, striding forward, his boots tapping loudly against the stone. He stopped at the center of the arena, gaze locked on Arbor. His eyes were sharper than usual — cold, unyielding, like glass that hadn't shattered yet. "I'm interested in how good you are. Let's settle this here and now, Arbor. Grab your weapon."
Arbor raised a brow, leaning lazily against one of the broken columns at the arena's edge. They crossed their arms over their chest, eyes half-closed like they were about to nap.
"Really?" Arbor said, tilting their head toward him. "You're still on about that? Look, I'm not in the mood for your whole 'prove-your-worth' routine. Can't we just... I don't know, sit around and cloud-watch instead?"
Alek's eyes narrowed, his posture stiffening like someone had pulled his spine too tight. "You think this is a game?" he snapped, his voice cutting clean through the quiet. "You mocked me. Insulted everything I stand for. It's time you back up that big mouth of yours. Unless... you're just afraid I might actually be right about you."
Arbor's eyes flicked to Eva, sitting on the stands like she had no intention of stopping any of this. Eva silently muttered, "You dug this hole." Her arms were crossed, one leg bouncing idly, gaze distant as if her mind was somewhere else entirely. No help there.
"Seriously, Alek?" Arbor sighed, dragging their feet as they pushed off the column. Their arms hung limp at their sides as they trudged toward the center of the arena, each step deliberate and slow. "You really want to waste energy on this? Fine, you're strong, you're determined, you're... whatever." They waved their hand in a loose circle like they were swirling a spoon in soup. "Let's skip the part where you feel all validated and just call it a day."
But Alek stepped forward, drawing his training daggers from his back with a sharp metallic hiss. The glow from the floating rock made his shadow stretch long and jagged against the arena floor. His eyes stayed on Arbor like he was waiting for them to flinch.
"No," Alek said. He pointed one dagger at Arbor, the tip hovering inches from their chest. "I want to see if you can actually do something besides run your mouth. Or is that the only skill you've mastered?"
For a moment, Arbor said nothing. Just stood there, gaze flicking from Alek's face to the tip of the dagger, then back to his face. They let out a long, slow breath, rubbing the back of their neck.
"Ugh. Fine." Their eyes rolled so hard it was a wonder they didn't fall over. They glanced at Eva one last time, still watching with that neutral, bored stare. "But let's be honest, this isn't even about me, is it?" Arbor said, their eyes sharp now. "You're still angry because I didn't bow down and stroke your precious ego. Exhausting, really."
Eva blinked slowly, gaze flicking between them, eyes glowing faintly pink. Her voice came soft. "They're both so insecure," she muttered, leaning forward and resting her chin on her hand. "I can feel their auras. It's so… tiring." She yawned. "But maybe this fight will clear the air."
"Enough stalling, Arbor," Alek barked, stepping forward again, his jaw tight with frustration. "Either face me or admit you're just a coward who hides behind jokes and excuses."
For the first time, Arbor's mask slipped with a hint of annoyance. Not all the way — just a crack in the mask. Their eyes flickered, like a flame suddenly caught by wind.
"Coward, huh?" Arbor's voice lowered, smooth and slow. Their grin returned, sharp this time. "That's rich coming from someone who can't handle a little pushback."
Their hand lifted lazily and with a whirl of glowing stone a crack in space opened, tented in caramel. A glowing weapon gate. From inside, Arbor pulled out a sleek black staff, its surface smooth like obsidian. The blue glow from the floating rock danced along its surface. They spun it once, lazily, and it hummed with a faint, rhythmic pulse. Aura flaring.
This was a staff given by Freya and something Arbor was not supposed to use, but Arbor thought, "If it's meant for combat why not test it out here."
"If this is what it takes to get you to shut up…" Arbor's grip tightened on the staff. The glow on its surface pulsed brighter, and the hum grew louder, like something inside it was waking up. "...Then let's get this over with." Their gaze locked with his, eyes half-lidded, calm as ever. "Just don't cry when you lose, alright?"
Alek's jaw flexed as he clenched his teeth. He stepped back, falling into a low, balanced stance, both hands gripping his sword tight.
"I won't lose," he said, his tone colder than ever. "Not to someone as lazy as you."
"Okay, okay, whatever," Arbor muttered, twirling their staff like it weighed nothing. Their eyes darted up toward the floating rock in the staff, the glow reflected faintly in their pink eyes. "But if I win, you owe me food and peace. I'm starving after all this drama."
Alek didn't reply. He popped open two small vials — one red, one blue — and gulped them down in a single motion. Glass shattered against the stone as he tossed them aside. The glow from his eyes flickered brighter, and his muscles tensed as if something had just snapped into place.
Arbor watched, cocking an eyebrow. "Seriously? You brought snacks to the fight? Can I get one?"
Alek's eyes snapped to them, sharper now, like a predator locking onto prey. "Do you ever take anything seriously?" he snarled.
"Sure," Arbor said, rocking back on their heels. "When it's worth my time. This isn't."
Alek lunged. No warning. No more talking.
The clash was fast, messy, and louder than it had any right to be. Alek's sword came down in a heavy arc, fast but wild. Arbor barely blocked the blades with the staff, shifting sideways and letting Aleks weight from the swing make them lose balance.
"Whoa, slow down there," Arbor muttered, ducking under a second swing. They flicked their staff up, deflecting Alek's follow-up jab with a loud clack. "I don't want to accidentally poke an eye out."
"Keep joking, fox," Alek snarled, spinning his sword in his hands with a flick of his wrist. "It's the only thing you're good at."
"Yeah, yeah," Arbor said, their grin widening as they darted left. "But I'm great at it."
Holding the staff made Arbor's limbs feel as though they were flowing, but also sturdy. They could feel the natural soul magic they leaked out from everyday tasks begin to be focused on their movement. Their since felt heightened every swing of Aleks blade feeling predictable. It felt as though this fighting thing was a high and they loved it.
The steady clang of steel against stone echoed through the arena like a slow drumbeat. Alek's strikes came faster now, his daggers flashing silver arcs under the glow of the hovering moon-rock. His eyes burned with focus, every swing sharper than the last. The weight behind each strike had changed. It wasn't frustration anymore. It was precision.
"Ah, it seems the potion they drank kicked in." Arbor thought as Alek's enhancements finally started to show.
Arbor's grin stayed firmly in place — for now. They ducked under a wide slash, twisting just in time for a second dagger to miss their ribs by a breath. Their heart thrummed in their chest, but they kept their voice as loose as ever.
"Okay, okay!" Arbor gasped, narrowly avoiding a vertical slash aimed at their shoulder. "You've got quick hands, I'll give you that. Ever consider a career as a street performer? Juggling daggers seems like your thing."
Alek didn't take the bait this time. His eyes stayed locked on Arbor, cold and focused.
"You're exhausting," he muttered through gritted teeth, spinning into another low swipe.
Arbor hopped back, their boot skidding against the stone. "I'm just saying," they continued, sidestepping another strike. "Juggling might be a better use of your time than trying to hit me. You're still at zero, by the way."
The moment the words left their mouth, Alek's did a faint and the second dagger caught the edge of Arbor's kimono, slicing a clean line into the fabric. A small amount of threads fluttered loose as the nick in the fabric spread. Arbor glanced down, lips pressed in a thin line.
For just a moment, the grin vanished.
"Alright," Arbor muttered, flicking their eyes back up to meet Alek's. "Noted."
Alek didn't stop. He surged forward, daggers in hand, his strikes measured, sharp as clockwork gears. Arbor swerved left, right, and back, but the rhythm of Alek's attacks was tightening. While Arbor's staff glowed, trying to feed Arbor information their brain, nor body could process. The edge of the arena began to creep foot by foot.
Can't keep dodging forever, Arbor thought, eyes darting around for an opening. They rolled to the side, feet landing lightly on the cracked stone. As they rose, their fingers brushed the ground, instinct kicking in.
Alright. You asked for it. But something was off. The moon's aura flexed. A ringing in Arbor's ears began. Not deafening but weakening.
They reached their glowing hand inside their bag for a couple of rocks, merging them with the stone beneath with ease. The rocks began trembling as if waking from a long sleep. With a flick of their fingers, the staff gleaned and a small mound of jagged stones burst upward like a small geyser. Pebbles and chunks of slate shot toward Alek in a spray of dust and dirt.
Alek grunted as one of the larger stones knocked his shoulder, throwing him off balance. He stumbled, his heel scraping against the stone as he struggled to stay upright. His gaze snapped to Arbor, eyes full of fire.
"That's it?" he barked, stepping back into his stance. He knocked a small rock aside with the flat of his dagger. "Throwing pebbles? Is that all you've got?"
Arbor, looking a bit annoyed at the outcome, thought, " It's that damn moon's aura, it's suppressing me. That attack wasn't supposed to be so little"
Arbor faked a grin, hands on their hips. "Hey, I had plans for those pebbles," they said, tilting their head. "Show some respect."
Alek's lips twitched with barely concealed frustration. He lunged again, faster this time seeming to have found more strength. But this time, he anticipated Arbor's sidestep. He adjusted mid-swing, his dagger's edge skimming past their arm.
Pain seared along Arbor's bicep.
They hissed, pulling back as fast as they could. Blood welled up, hot and sticky, soaking the edge of their sleeve. The sharp ache hit seconds later, quick and stinging like a wasp sting. Their eyes flicked to the shallow cut. It wasn't deep, but it was there.
Arbor's gaze shot up, sharp and narrow now. Things weren't going to plan, and Arbor honestly was done with this fight when the moon had third partied their fight. But something in their mind didn't want to give Alek the satisfaction of a win.
"Okay, now you're just being rude," they muttered, pressing their hand against the bleeding cut. The warmth of it annoyed them more than the pain.
From the bleachers, Eva sighed so loudly it echoed across the arena. She sat slouched, her head propped on one hand, her legs swinging idly over the edge of the seat.
"They're like kids fighting over a toy," Eva muttered to herself, pink light flickering faintly in her eyes. Her gaze shifted to Alek for a moment, then Arbor. "But I guess this is one way to bond."
She didn't move. She didn't need to, yet.
"You know, this whole fighting thing?" Arbor yawned, glancing at Alek out of the corner of their eye. "Not really my style. Why don't we call it a draw and grab lunch instead? Pretty sure you owe me food anyway."
Alek stopped pacing. His daggers spun in his hands, sharp points catching the light.
"You've done nothing but dodge and mock me," Alek said, his voice tight with barely controlled anger. "I refuse to call this a draw." He snapped his blades together with a loud clink and pulled them apart slowly, his breathing heavy.
Alek spat on the floor. His steps echoed louder than before. His words came faster now, spilling out in sharp bursts. "Do you think the legion wants a lazy, useless fox who can only run their mouth? People like me are working so hard to get to the top, and you're just standing there, blocking it. There are problems all over Eden, and I need this power to fix it."
There it is, Arbor thought, eyes narrowing.
They leaned on their staff, weight on one leg, head tilted just slightly. Their gaze stayed locked on him, steady now, sharper than it had been the entire fight.
"Oh, no," they said, their voice quieter but lined with something harder. "Not the 'fix the world' speech again."
They lifted their hand from their bleeding arm, letting it fall lazily to their side.
"Look, Alek, if you're trying to make me feel bad, it's not gonna work." They squinted at him like he was a puzzle with no solution. "You're good at the whole 'hero' thing, I'll give you that. But as for me?" They shrugged, their grin crooked again but colder this time. "I don't get to pick what I do. I'm stuck with it. Something a stuck-up prince wouldn't understand."
Alek stopped pacing.
His breathing slowed. His fingers flexed around his daggers before he let them fall to his sides. His gaze stayed fixed on Arbor, quiet, still. But then they loosened.
"You know what, Enough of this," Alek muttered, eyes burning with something too sharp to name. He lifted his hand, fingers curling. A glow flickered around his wrist. The air whooshed as green cracks formed in the space beside him.
Arbor's eyes flicked to the crack. Something deep within Arbor's chest thumped. Their heart maybe? No, it was something deeper.
Their soul
Something within it beat in anticipation. But it felt wrong. Foreign. Detached from Arbor's own souls being. As if a bigger being had tried to force its way into Arbor's den. As soon as they felt it, the moon's aura grew, and the wrong feeling disappeared.
Arbor felt a bit confused but left the feeling alone for now. Too many strange things had been happening at once. They decided to focus on the main problem.
Alek and the weapon gate.
A flash of green light split the air. With a smooth, practiced motion, Alek reached in and pulled something long and heavy from the gate. Not daggers. Longer. Curved.
The scythe hit the ground with a soft thud as he spun it with both hands, dragging it behind him like a second shadow. The glow of runes along the curved blade pulsed, faint but steady, like a heartbeat.
Arbor's gaze followed the glow. That's new.
"Let's see if you can keep joking when you're facing this," Alek said, his voice quieter now.