Freya stood outside Atheria's tree, her arms crossed tightly over her chest. The faint glow of the ancient tree's bark cast a soft, golden light over the clearing, but Freya barely noticed. Her foot tapped against the ground with sharp, impatient beats.
It's been too long, she thought, her single green eye narrowing as she glared at the entrance. What is Arbor doing in there?
She sighed heavily, the sound cutting through the stillness, and stepped forward. Her fingers brushed over the shimmering bark, and faint sparks of magic flared where her hand made contact. The bark parted smoothly, forming an arched entrance.
"If they're slacking off, they're gonna regret it," she muttered under her breath, stepping into the softly glowing interior.
Inside, the chamber pulsed faintly with magical energy, a quiet hum filling the air. And there, sitting cross-legged on the ground, was Arbor. A bowl rested in their lap, and they were mid-bite, shoveling stew into their mouth with blissful disregard for their surroundings.
Freya's brow twitched as she stepped closer, her voice cutting through the serene quiet. "What... are you doing?"
Arbor froze mid-bite, their blue ears twitching at the sound of Freya's voice. Slowly, they turned, wide-eyed, their cheeks full like a chipmunk's.
"Mmph—eating," they mumbled around a mouthful of food, clearly startled.
Freya loomed over Arbor, her shadow falling across them like an overbearing storm cloud. Her arms crossed again, and her foot tapped once against the glowing floor.
"Where did you even get food?" she asked sharply.
Arbor didn't miss a beat, raising their spoon like a pointer, a hint of smugness in their grin. "I earned it. Helped the chef prep veggies, and this is my reward."
Freya raised an eyebrow. "You helped prep food? You?" She leaned forward, her voice heavy with disbelief. "I don't believe it."
Arbor's smirk widened. they lifted the bowl toward Freya, as if offering a prized treasure. "Believe it, teach. Want some? It's pretty good, actually."
Freya recoiled, wrinkling her nose in visible disgust. Her hands shot up as though the bowl itself were some sort of weapon.
"Ugh. Pass," she said flatly. "Eating is pretty gross. I don't know how any of you are able to stomach it."
"CREEAAAAK."
Through the wide-open doorway, three figures appeared. Jorma strolled in first, his usual smirk firmly in place, one hand raised in a lazy wave. Eva followed, her steps light and purposeful, her expression bright with the simple relief of being indoors. Trailing behind them was Alek, his head bowed slightly, eyes distant, and shoulders tense with an emotion Freya recognized all too well.
"What are you all doing here?" Freya asked, her tone sharper than she intended as she stepped forward, arms still crossed.
Jorma was the first to answer, his smirk widening as he sauntered further into the chamber. His hands disappeared into his coat pockets, and his voice carried the same easy, teasing lilt as always. "Getting food, obviously. This little prince here just got himself kicked out of the big fancy castle."
Freya's eyes shifted immediately to Alek. He didn't meet her gaze, his jaw tightening as he scowled at the floor. Her stare lingered, narrowing slightly as she took in the tension in his posture. Her expression softened—though only slightly—as she tilted her head, thoughts shifting from irritation to quiet calculation.
"Hmph." Her voice came calm and cold. "Probably for the best if he's serious about joining the legion."
Jorma side-eyed her, his smirk turning playful again. "Oh?" he said, leaning toward her as though sharing a secret. "So that's why you're here. You finally understand the joy of a good meal, huh?"
Freya's patience snapped. Her eyes narrowed, and she jabbed a finger in Arbor's direction, her tone sharp. "This was more of an Arbor thing," she snapped. "I don't eat."
Jorma shrugged, his smirk fading as though she'd stolen the punchline to his joke. "Boring," he muttered flatly.
Jorma's attention shifted to Alek, his mood bouncing back with irritating ease. Without warning, he threw an arm over the elf's shoulders, earning a startled glance from Alek, whose discomfort was plain on his face.
"Come on, princey," Jorma said, steering Alek toward the hall with a firm pat on the back. "I'll show you why humans make the best chefs."
Freya's gaze followed them, her arms tightening across her chest as she trailed behind. "You'd better not waste the chef's time, Jorma," she grumbled.
Jorma didn't bother turning around as they headed toward the kitchen.
Freya sighed, her fingers tapping against her arm as she followed them.
Arbor now sat alone on the floor of the chamber, their back hunched and their tail lying still against the ground. In their hand, a small stone twisted and turned under their touch, reshaped by the quiet pulse of their magic. First, it became a perfect cube, its edges sharp and deliberate. Then, with a flick of their fingers, it morphed into a spiral, curling inward on itself. Another flick, and the stone took the shape of a fox's head, its ears pointed and sharp.
But the form never stayed for long. Arbor's fingers moved restlessly, shifting the stone again and again.
What am I even going to find out there? they thought, their eyes distant. Why does everyone keep talking about me like it's supposed to mean something?
They sighed, their grip tightening unconsciously. The stone began to crack under the strain of their magic.
Snap—CRACK!
The stone shattered in their hands, tiny fragments scattering across the floor. Arbor flinched at the sound, staring at their empty palms.
"Dang it," they mumbled, brushing the bits off their lap.
A soft voice broke the silence. "What happened to all that sassy energy you had yesterday? This doesn't seem like you."
Arbor glanced up to see Eva crouching beside them, her head tilted in curiosity as her gaze flicked to the shattered pieces of stone.
"I'm just tired, alright?" Arbor muttered, looking away. They flicked a few remaining bits of stone between their fingers. "Leave it."
Eva didn't press. Instead, she stood up and stretched, her arms reaching high above her head. "Come on," she said, her voice light. "Let's go to the diner. I can get you a second bowl."
Arbor blinked, frowning up at her. "You're persistent, you know that?"
Eva grinned, cheerful as ever. "Yup. That's why I get what I want." She started walking ahead, hands clasped behind her head, her stride casual and confident.
Arbor hesitated for a moment longer before standing, brushing their hands on their clothes. Their steps trailed behind Eva's as they left the chamber, their hands shoved deep into their pockets.
The sound of her teasing voice floated back to them. "Don't worry. I'll even let you peel the veggies next time."
Arbor rolled their eyes but couldn't suppress a faint smirk as they followed her toward the diner.
The diner buzzed softly with the sounds of clinking dishes and murmured conversations. Its cozy interior was lined with wooden tables and benches, each one worn smooth by years of use. A mix of Elite Legion members and forest travelers sat scattered around, eating and chatting quietly.
In the back corner, Jorma lounged with one leg stretched across the bench, a large mug of ale in hand. His grin was as cocky as ever. Alek sat next to him, staring at the menu in front of him, his shoulders tense. Across from them, Freya sat rigid, arms crossed, her single green eye fixed on Jorma with visible disapproval.
Near the counter, Eva placed an order, her smile easy as always. Arbor stood beside her, their hands shoved deep into their pockets, their eyes scanning the hanging menu trying to ignore the feeling of dread around all these faces.
The chef behind the counter glanced at them with a smirk. "Back again, huh? What, that fox convinced you to get them seconds?"
Eva raised an eyebrow, shooting a teasing glance at Arbor. "Nope. This one's all me this time."
The chef shrugged, already turning to prepare the order. "Alright, alright. But if I see them pokin' around my kitchen again, I'm throwin' 'em out myself."
"Hey, Eva!" Jorma's voice rang out from across the diner, loud enough to make a few patrons glance his way. He lifted his mug in mock toast. "Why don't you get yourself something too? Food's good! Loosen up a bit!"
Eva glanced over her shoulder. "No, I'm good," she called back. "I'm with Freya on this one."
Jorma let out a dramatic sigh, shrugging before taking a long swig from his drink. "Your loss," he said smugly, slamming the mug back onto the table.
Eva returned to a smaller table near the corner, balancing two plates of steaming food. Arbor followed behind, still quiet and distant.
Sliding into her seat, Eva pushed one of the plates in front of Arbor with a grin. "Eat up, Potato Peeler, the chef had a lot to say about you, huh." she said, sitting back casually.
Arbor stared at the plate for a moment before picking up a spoon, poking at the food absently not even noticing the teasing. Slowly, they began to eat, their movements quieter than usual. Eva leaned forward slightly. "So... what happened in there with Atheria?"
Arbor froze, their spoon hovering above the plate. For a moment, they didn't answer, their expression tightening. "She told me... I'm not even the original me."
Eva tilted her head, her brow furrowing. "Huh? What do you mean by that?"
Arbor stirred their food without really eating, their elbows resting on the table. "I can't remember anything from the past two years ago," they said slowly, like they were still working it out for themselves. "Just... blank. Then Freya shows up one day talking about 'potential' and 'Eden needs you,' and now I'm here."
Eva didn't interrupt, her pink-tinged eyes focused as she listened. Her fingers tapped softly against the table. "Okay," she said. "But what's that got to do with not being the 'original' you?"
Arbor hesitated, their tail twitching behind them. A memory surfaced, vivid and sharp: Atheria perched gracefully on a tree branch, her voice soft and steady.
"I sealed your original soul because it was damaged," Atheria had said, her form glowing faintly in the dreamlike space. "To save you, I placed a new soul in its place. The second soul... is you, Arbor. But if the seal ever breaks, the original soul will take over."
Arbor snapped back to the present, their fingers tightening around the spoon. They looked directly at Eva now, their eyes wide with something close to fear.
"Atheria said if that seal breaks, I might... lose myself," they said quietly. "Like, completely gone."
Eva leaned back in her chair, her arms crossing as her expression grew thoughtful processing Arbor's words carefully. "So... you're afraid you're gonna get erased," she said finally, her voice serious.
"Yeah, pretty much," Arbor muttered. Their fingers clenched the edge of the table, their other hand rubbing over their face. "And it's not like I asked for any of this."
Eva leaned forward, resting her elbows on the table. "Well, Arbor," she began, her tone calm but deliberate, "sometimes life hands you a bad hand. We all get dealt stuff we didn't ask for."
Arbor didn't reply immediately, their spoon idly stirring the food as they glanced at Eva, their ears twitching slightly.
Eva's gaze drifted for a moment.
Eva's lips tightened slightly. Her eyes lowered, half-lidded as if she was staring at something far away as if she was remembering something.
For a moment, she lingered there. Then, with a quick blink, Eva snapped back to the present. She sat up straighter, rolling her shoulders before her usual confidence returned. Her smile reappeared—smaller this time, but just as encouraging.
"But what makes us strong," she said, "isn't our talents or physical strength. It's our will to face the parts of ourselves we think are weak. That's how you turn a bad hand into a good one."
Arbor's ears tilted slightly, their spoon stopping mid-stir as they looked up at Eva.
"You... you're probably right," Arbor said quietly.
Eva leaned back with a casual stretch, her arms lifting over her head as her grin widened. "Of course I'm right," she said confidently.
Arbor, despite hating that in everyone else, enjoyed Eva's confidence.
The noise of the diner buzzed faintly in the background—voices overlapping, the occasional clatter of dishes, and the steady hum of conversation from the larger table where Jorma, Freya, and Alek sat.
Eva's words from earlier looped in their mind, louder than any background noise.
"Two souls, huh?" Arbor mumbled under their breath. "How do you even figure out which one is 'you' in that mess?"
The spoon stilled in their hand as a flicker of doubt pressed in.
Across from them, Eva didn't answer immediately. She was studying them. Not just looking—seeing. It was like she was peering through them, past their face and form, into something deeper. Arbor shifted uncomfortably, their ears flicking back slightly as the intensity of her focus pressed in.
Then Eva tapped her finger on the table, a small rhythmic sound, and leaned forward slightly. "Easy," she said. "The one that's sitting right in front of me right now."
For a moment, Arbor didn't know how to respond. Their mouth opened slightly, but no words came out. The same feeling Freya gave them.
The sound of Jorma's laughter broke through the quiet between them. Arbor's ears twitched, swiveling instinctively toward the noise.
They glanced over at the larger table, where Jorma leaned forward, his grin wide and full of mischief as he pushed a cup toward Freya. Whatever was in it, Arbor could smell the alcohol from where they sat, sharp and bitter.
"Come on, Freya," Jorma said, loud enough for half the diner to hear. "You've trained enough for a lifetime—live a little!"
Freya's green eye narrowed as she stared at him, her lips pressed into a line. Her fingers hovered over the cup, reluctant but curious.
Arbor almost turned back to their stew, but then Freya moved. Her gaze darted to Alek, who was staring at her like he couldn't believe what he was seeing. Without warning, she grabbed the cup and tilted it back, drinking the whole thing in one smooth motion.
The noise in the diner seemed to pause for a beat as Freya slammed the cup back onto the table with a loud thunk. She wiped her mouth with her sleeve like it was no big deal, her expression calm and unreadable.
"OH?!" Jorma's voice cut through the moment, loud and triumphant. "Look at you! You DO have a wild side!"
Alek looked like he was about to faint. His hands shot to his head, his voice rising in disbelief. "What are you doing?! Aren't you supposed to be the responsible one?!"
Freya didn't even flinch. Her calm, blank face turned slowly toward Jorma, her green eye gleaming with cold intensity. "Say one more word, Jorma," she said, her tone flat and threatening as a drawn blade.
Jorma, to his credit, leaned back in mock surrender, his grin never fading. "Alright, alright, big sis. Your secret's safe with me."
Arbor shook their head, letting out a quiet huff.
"Two souls," they murmured again.
Eva tapped her fingers on the table again, drawing Arbor's gaze. Her smile had softened slightly, less cocky now, more steady. "The one sitting in front of me right now is the true you it doesn't matter who you were before. You are you so chill out," she repeated, like the answer was the simplest thing in the world.