Alek stirred awake, groggy and confused.
The world felt distant, like they were at the bottom of a deep well, sounds echoing far above. Their eyes blinked slowly, vision swimming with soft greens and browns. Their head throbbed. Their arms felt heavier than stone.
"What… happened?" they muttered, their voice rough with sleep. They sat up slowly, rubbing the back of their head, feeling their long green unkept hair sticking in all directions.
"Oh, good afternoon, Alek," Eva's calm, airy voice drifted toward them. She leaned forward slightly, her face serene, her eyes glowing faintly pink. Too calm.
"It seems like you tried to kill Arbor earlier, and I had to stop you by putting you to sleep."
Alek's entire body froze.
"I did what?!" Their eyes shot open, heart suddenly racing as flashes of blurred memory clawed at the edges of their mind. They rubbed their temples, eyebrows knitting together. Fighting. Yes, they remembered that much. But the rest…
"I remember fighting, but… I wasn't trying to kill them." Their brow furrowed deeper. Their head felt like it was wrapped in fog. "Why can't I remember?"
The weight of someone else's aura pressed down on them. They didn't need to look up to know who it was.
"It's the weapon," Freya's voice came from above. Sharp. Direct. The kind of tone that didn't leave room for argument.
Alek's heart jumped. They quickly sat up straighter, eyes darting toward Freya as she stepped into view, arms crossed, horns tilted forward.
"Captain Freya!" Alek blurted, trying to sound more composed than they felt. They shot her a grin that felt far too forced. "It's great to see you're done with your business."
They felt something shift — a tingle in their chest. Their eyes flicked downward and saw the subtle change in their hands. Their fingers were smaller. Softer. Their chest is bigger.
Alek froze feeling sick.
"Oh no."
POOF!
A burst of green smoke engulfed them for half a second, swirling with faint traces of purple. When it cleared, Alek sat exactly where he was, except now his jaw was clenched, his hair was shorter, and his build more square. His cheeks were flushed red as he avoided eye contact with everyone.
Arbor, who'd been nursing their cheek, glanced at Eva. Eva shook her head at arbor.
"Was that—?" Arbor started.
"Moving on," Freya said, eyes narrowed with laser focus. Her tone didn't leave room for follow-ups. She stepped forward, gaze locked on Alek.
"About that weapon. Where did you get it?" she asked, her voice sharp but measured. "I need to see it."
Alek's heart skipped. This was not how he expected today to go.
He glanced at his hands, still feeling that faint buzz of energy pulsing under his skin. The memory of the scythe flashed in his mind — the weight of it, the swing of it, the rush of power that followed. His fingers flexed like he was holding it again, and then a craving set in they needed to hold it again.
"I'm a bit confused," he muttered, rubbing the back of his head. A bit embarrassed to say the next part, "Why do you need my weapon? I received it from a distant relative… as a birthday gift."
Arbor's ears flicked. Their grin was immediate.
"So someone gave you a farming tool for your birthday, and you decided to beat me up with it?" they said, grinning wide despite their swollen cheek.
Alek's face flushed with irritation. His hands curled into fists. His gaze snapped toward Arbor, eyes sharp as broken glass.
"No!" he snapped with more conference now. "This weapon has a long history of battle. I was told it would give me the edge I needed in combat."
Eva glanced toward Arbor, her eyes narrowing just a bit.
"Arbor," she said softly. "Remember what you said earlier?"
Arbor raised their hands in mock surrender, rolling their eyes like an ill-mannered child caught mid-prank.
"Geez, my bad, Alek."
"Regardless," Freya said, cutting in before they could spiral into another argument. She stepped closer to Alek, hands on her hips. Her gaze was firm but not unkind. "I need you to stop using that weapon and dispose of it. It's far too dangerous."
Alek frowned, glancing at his palm. "Alright, fine. I'll just get it."
He raised his hand, palm upward, and focused. The air shimmered faintly, a ripple of magic. The gate should've opened. The weapon should've dropped in. But… nothing.
His heart skipped. He tried again. Still, nothing.
His chest tightened, confusion flickering into fear.
"That's weird. My gate won't open."
Freya's face went still. Her eyes flicked toward his hand, her sharp gaze narrowing. Her lips pressed into a thin, grim line.
"Oh." She tilted her head slightly, her gaze sharper than before. "You really shouldn't have stored it like that."
Freya crouched and drew a quick sketch on the ground with a single spark of lightning from her finger. The simple outline looked like a portal gate, a few objects floating inside being held up by sparks, with one object glowing ominously black and red.
"Here's the short version," Freya said, her voice low but deliberate. "Your gate is a portal to your soul. Normally, you store items in it — objects, not living things."
The sketch shifted. Freya tapped the glowing red object. It pulsed, flashing erratically.
"But you put a corrupted item in there." Her eyes shifted to Alek. "Now it's bonded to your soul."
"Not being able to open it is a bad sign." She glanced at Eva, her eyes scanning the girl carefully. "For people like me, Arbor, or Eva — made of soul magic — this would be catastrophic. But you should be mostly fine since you're an elf, your life isn't fully tied to soul magic. You have all those squishy organs keeping you moving."
Alek looked a bit confused.
Freya sighed talking as if you had an infant in front of her, "Atherian's bodies are run completely by our souls, physical damage can hurt but can't kill us. Meanwhile, humans and other nonmagical creatures can take damage to their souls and be relatively fine (with some, but most definitely will not survive a blow to the heart or something. You and the elfs on the other hand can take a lot of damage to both before dying not saying you are immorta-"
Freya's light-hearted tone shifts when thinking about the elf the legion lost. "Yeah just don't do something stupid"
Eva tilted her head. Her eyes glowed pink. She gazed at Alek, scanning him like one might peer into a crystal ball. Her eyes narrowed.
"Weird…" she muttered, gaze sharp.
"What?" Alek asked, his anxiety rising.
"Your soul's bigger than before," she said, voice distant. "But it's got this… red tint. Not normal." Her eyes flicked toward Jorma, Freya, and Arbor for comparison. Jorma's was pretty big deep purple. Arbor's was faint caramel, barely noticeable due to something blocking her scan.
But Alek's?
Bright green, with flickers of red twisting through it similar to Freya's soul, a huge mix of swirling colors.
Freya stood, brushing her hands off. "Basically, don't open your gate. Until we find someone able to unbind it. Plus you dont use magic that anyways." She placed a firm hand on Arbor's shoulder. Arbor tensed instantly.
Her grin was far too sharp.
"Oh, by the way, you have a meeting with Atheria tomorrow."
Arbor froze. Their eyes widened.
"A meeting with the goddess?!" they gasped. "This is about the staff, isn't it?!" Their hands flew to their head. "She's going to punish me, isn't she?!"
Freya's grin turned wolfish. She patted Arbor's head like one might a troublesome child.
"No, it's unrelated. But your next training session? That'll be painful."
"I hate everything," Arbor muttered, staring at the sky.
Alek crossed his arms, scowling.
"They get to meet the goddess? They don't even deserve that."
Arbor sighed. "Give it a rest."
"Please don't let her be mad," they thought, heart pounding. "Please."
Eva's ears twitched, her eyes narrowing slightly.
"Wait." Her gaze flicked to her feet.
Her eyes turned faintly pink.
A ripple. A shift. The air went from cool to just a little colder. Her pink eyes snapped to the edge of her shadow — and saw it move.
Too late.
SPLASH!
Her face was hit with a cold spray of water. It dripped down her face in uneven trails, soaking her horns, her nose, and her entire mood.
"Grrr." Eva wiped her face with her sleeve, blinking slowly, her eyes now dimmed green fixed on the source.
Jorma.
He stood there with that smug grin, arms folded, leaning lazily against one of the arena's railings. His yellow eyes practically glowed with mischief.
"Eva, honestly, your powers are a real pain," Jorma said, shaking his head with mock disappointment. His voice had that too-casual, too-relaxed tone that made Eva's teeth clench. "You seriously need to learn control. I can't keep getting knocked out every time you get startled."
Her patience snapped.
"Maybe if you stopped appearing out of nowhere, I wouldn't be so jumpy around you!" she shot back, pointing a sharp clawed finger at him. "You were only twenty feet away! You could've walked! WALKED, Jorma! Like a normal person! You have legs, I know you do!"
"Yeah, but why walk when you can teleport?" Jorma said with a grin, casually brushing an invisible speck of dust off his shoulder.
Eva opened her mouth to retort, but her eyes flicked to the bleachers behind her.
There was another Jorma.
He was lying face-first on the bleacher, completely still. Her eyes squinted with confusion. Her pink glow intensified.
"What?" Her gaze darted between the two Jormas.
The "sleeping Jorma" on the bleachers melted into a pool of shadow that rippled and flowed like water. The black tendrils slithered across the ground before sliding up into Jorma's body, melding back into him like it had never left. He didn't even look fazed.
"Shadow walk, Eva," he said, tapping the side of his head like it was the most obvious thing in the world. "It's literally my thing. Also, for reasons like this, I like to keep a couple of copies around."
Arbor whispered from Alek's side.
"Is this a family reunion or something?" they muttered, leaning closer to Alek with a look of tired confusion. Their cheek was still swollen from Freya's earlier "lesson," and they rubbed it idly.
"I have no idea," Alek muttered back, his brows furrowed with mild exhaustion. His eyes flicked toward the faint outline of Jorma's remaining shadow behind the bleachers. "Today's been... fuzzy."
Eva sighed, still wiping water from her horns as she walked toward Alek and Arbor. Her eyes stayed on Jorma, a pink glow slowly fading as her patience returned.
"This is my brother, Jorma," she muttered, not looking at him as she spoke. Her tone was flat but not without warmth. "He's part of the Elite Legion, like Freya."
Her gaze flicked toward Jorma, eyes half-lidded with quiet judgment.
"Unlike Freya, he has a knack for showing up at the worst times." Her ears twitched. "Then disappearing for years afterward."
Jorma smirked, his arms still folded as he straightened up like he was being introduced as a king at court.
"Well, the goddess sends me on important assignments. Can't help it if my work takes me away," he said, brushing at his coat like he'd just returned from a grand adventure.
Eva snorted softly. "Right. Like charming every woman in sight. Such critical work."
"That's enough."
The familiar weight of Freya's authority pressed down on them all like a shift in air pressure. She stepped forward, horns tilted forward, eyes steady. Everyone knew that tone.
"The time we were supposed to spend training has been wasted, so everyone can go back to what they were doing." Her eyes flicked to Jorma, sharp and direct. "Jorma, sorry for dragging you here, but I'll need your help tomorrow."
Jorma raised a brow, his grin never fading. "Fine. You said it was urgent, so I came. Plus, I got to see my two favorite siblings."
Eva's ears flicked back. "We're your only siblings."
Jorma tilted his head, hands spread wide in mock revelation. "Exactly! Which makes my statement even more true."
Freya let out a heavy sigh, one hand pressing against her temple.
"Anyway, I need you to watch over these two tomorrow while I take Arbor to Atheria." Her eyes flicked toward Eva and Alek. "It's not that they need a babysitter or anything, but I think you could teach them a thing or two."
Alek's eyes lit up like he'd just been handed a sword of legend. Pure, unfiltered determination.
"It would be an honor to train under you, sir!" he said, his back straight, eyes full of that signature "I must prove myself" energy.
Eva tilted her head slowly, side-eying Alek like he'd just sprouted a second head.
"You're such a weirdo," she muttered, her lips curling into a faint smirk.
Jorma's eyes flicked toward Eva, then back to Alek. He grinned wide, leaning his elbow on the railing.
"Weirdo? Says the one who puts people to sleep with her eyeballs." He raised a hand lazily, like he was giving a half-hearted pledge. "But fine. I'll see if I can scrounge up some replacement blades for you, Alek."
Alek's eyes widened.
"Thank you, sir!" he said, his voice cracking with excitement.
"Yeah, yeah, don't get all weepy on me." Jorma waved it off, his body already shifting toward the shadows. "Anyway, I've got things to do. Be ready tomorrow, you two. I'll know where to find you, so just meet up before sunrise."
His body shifted, shadows curling around his feet, stretching toward his hands like vines.
"FOOSH."
Jorma was gone. Just like that.
Eva let out a breath she didn't know she'd been holding. Her arms crossed over her chest, her eyes scanning the spot where Jorma had vanished. Her gaze lingered there for a moment too long.
"He's such a showoff," she muttered, shaking her head.
Her eyes flicked toward Freya, who was already turning away. Calm, steady, sharp as always.
Arbor glanced at Eva. "He does that often?" they asked, rubbing the bruise on their cheek.
Eva let out a short laugh. No humor. All exhaustion.
"All the time."
The arena's quiet hum settled into a soft stillness.
The earlier buzz of chaos had all faded into the gentle rustle of leaves and distant chirps of birds. The faint glow of magical runes lining the arena's edges flickered like fading fireflies, barely noticeable now.
Eva walked at the front of the group, her pace slow but steady. Her hands were tucked into her sleeves, her horns tilted forward slightly like she was deep in thought. Jorma was already gone, his usual exit marked only by the faint, lingering chill of shadows in the air.
Behind her, Alek followed quietly, his gaze fixed ahead but his mind clearly elsewhere. He was thinking. His eyes flicked toward Eva, then to Arbor, then down at his own hands. His fingers flexed absently, opening and closing as if feeling for something that wasn't there.
Arbor trailed behind them. Their eyes were on the stairs, occasionally glancing at their bruised cheek with a small, annoyed frown. Their fingers pressed lightly against the swelling, wincing each time. They didn't complain out loud, but they didn't need to. The pout on their face said it all.
"Hold up, Alek," Freya's voice rang out from behind. Her tone was casual, but it had that edge of authority that made you stop without thinking. Everyone stopped.
Eva glanced back over her shoulder, her goat-like pupils narrowing as she flicked her eyes between Freya and Alek. She tilted her head slightly, curious but not concerned.
"Alright. Don't take too long," she said simply, turning away. Her eyes flicked briefly to Alek — the faint glow of pink lingering in her pupils — before she continued toward the edge of the forest.
Arbor lifted a hand in a half-hearted wave, still walking backward. Their grin was tired but teasing.
"Good luck with whatever life-changing lesson she's about to hit you with," Arbor called, turning back around with a lazy shrug. Their voice echoed faintly as they vanished into the treeline.
Alek was alone.
He glanced toward Freya. She was still standing at the arena's center, arms at her sides, her gaze steady but not stern. There was no lightning this time, no storm brewing behind her eyes. Just calm.
He stayed where he was for a moment longer, watching her like someone watching the sky after a storm, not sure if it's really over.
Freya walked toward him slowly, her hoove clicking against the stone. The sound of each step echoed just a little in the wide, hollow arena. She didn't say anything at first, just approached with that steady, confident stride. Her horns tilted forward slightly, her eyes calm but sharp.
She stopped in front of him. Arms relaxed. Shoulders loose. The tension she'd carried all day seemed to have drained away.
"You know, Alek," she started, her tone light, like she was about to share some forgotten piece of gossip. She placed a hand on her hip, glancing toward the edge of the forest where Eva and Arbor had disappeared. Her eyes softened.
"Most Atherians don't care much about appearances."
Her eyes flicked back to him. Steady. Focused. Direct.
Alek blinked, tilting his head slightly. "They don't?" His voice was quiet, cautious. Uncertain.
Freya chuckled softly, a small breathy sound, like she was remembering something distant but warm. She waved a hand vaguely in front of her as she explained.
"We're literally formed from soul magic, kid." She tapped a finger against her chest. "Soul. Magic." Her eyes flicked toward Alek's hands. "Changing forms? Shifting appearances? It's kind of normal for us. It's not some 'big deal' like it is for the Nytherion kingdom." She tilted her head slightly, her eyes sharp but not unkind. "You know how they are. They want everything to be perfect. Unchanging. Always in control."
Alek's gaze dropped to the ground, his eyes locked on the split-hand-sized rock beneath his feet. Something Arbor was probably responsible for. His fingers twitched at his sides, clenching, then unclenching slowly. His shoulders sagged just a bit.
He knew exactly what she meant.
"But here?" Freya said, crouching slightly so she could look at him properly. Her eyes met his head-on. No avoiding it. No dodging it.
"You've got to be true to yourself." Her voice dropped just slightly, lower, but not softer. Each word was sharp. Precise. It wasn't just advice. It was truth.
"You're the leader of your life, Alek." Her gaze didn't waver. "Don't let anyone tell you how it should be. Not a kingdom. Not a family. Not a god. Not even me."
Alek didn't move. He didn't breathe for a moment.
The words sat there, sinking in slowly. Not like stone sinking to the bottom of a pond. More like roots. Roots pressing into the soil, making space for themselves.
His eyes stayed on the ground. He thought about it. Really thought about it.
"You're the leader of your life."
His fingers relaxed. Slowly, he raised his eyes to meet hers. His gaze was clearer now. Not sharp. Not blazing with resolve. Just clear.
"Thanks," he muttered, a quiet breathy laugh sneaking into his voice. He rubbed the back of his neck, smiling softly like he'd been handed something fragile but precious. "I'll… I'll remember that."
It wasn't much. But it was enough.
They stood there for a moment, not speaking. Just… standing. No pressure. No weight.
Freya smiled, tilting her head back slightly, letting the light of the sun flicker against her horns. She watched Alek for a moment longer before turning away, gaze shifting toward the forest path.
"Good," she said simply, turning on her heel. She didn't look back.
Her horns caught the sunlight just right, faint flickers of blue and gold flashing like lightning in the distance. Her cloak swayed behind her like a storm trailing in her wake.
Alek stayed where he was, his eyes still on her.
He felt lighter.
He glanced at his hands again, slowly turning them over, watching the way his fingers curled and uncurled.
His hands didn't feel strange anymore.
He glanced toward the treeline, where Eva and Arbor had vanished. His gaze lingered there for a moment, quiet, thoughtful. Then his eyes flicked toward the sky, watching the light shift between the leaves.
"You're the leader of your life."
He breathed in slowly, letting the air fill his chest. His eyes shut for a moment as he held that breath, letting the warmth of it spread through him.
Then, softly, he exhaled.
The weight that had been pressing on him all day lifted, just a little.
He stepped forward, moving toward the treeline, back straight, gaze clear. This time, he didn't hesitate.