Today, Arbor had woken up in their den on their own. Freya hadn't been there to wake them, which was a surprise. It seemed like all the early morning wake-ups had hardwired an internal alarm clock, which sucked because last night's sleep had been blissful, the kind of rare nothingness that Arbor craved.
The den felt unusually still. Even the floating stones that hovered above the shelves seemed quieter than usual. Arbor stretched out on the grass-stuffed bed, their tail twitching in lazy defiance of the day's expectations.
No voice barking from the entrance. No hooves tapping impatiently on the forest floor. Just the soft glow of the glass ceiling windows filtering pale, misty light into the den.
"Finally, peace," they grumbled
Arbor looked around the den, their gaze lingering on the scattered trinkets and books that made up their daily life. Without Freya's usual insistence ringing in their ears, the stillness was unnervingly loud. "Weird," they muttered, scratching behind one of their side ears. "Guess I better get dressed anyway, just in case she shows up."
While getting dressed. their eyes flicked to the staff propped haphazardly against the wall. For a moment, they stared at it. They had almost forgotten about it since tossing it on the floor last night. Spotting it now, lying there like an afterthought, Arbor picked it up, their fingers running along the smooth surface. It was heavier than it looked. Curiosity got the better of them, and they let a small stream of magic flow into it.
The reaction was immediate. A warmth coursed through Arbor's body as their magic pulsed in rhythm with the staff. It felt... familiar. The sensation reminded them of Freya's staff, how it made magic feel controlled, fluid. But there was something else, too. Something foreign. A sensation Arbor had felt before but couldn't fully describe. Their magic moved naturally, but it avoided something, flowing around a presence within them—the same one they now recognized as the second soul. Or maybe it was their "true self." Arbor wasn't sure what to call it yet.
As the presence stirred, trying to push against the flow of their magic, the staff began to glow softly. The foreign feeling was immediately suppressed, like a heavy door slamming shut. Arbor frowned, their grip tightening on the staff. It felt like the staff had strengthened the seal Atheria placed on them—or whatever it was that kept the other presence locked away. At the same time, the staff enhanced Arbor's normal soul magic, making it stronger, sharper.
They weren't sure how to feel about it. The "original them" was sealed away, hidden behind layers of Atheria's will. And if Arbor were them, locked away like that, they'd probably want to be free too.
The thought stuck with them as they let the staff's glow fade. If the staff did that, then the moon at the training grounds was probably doing the same thing, holding back that part of them. For now.
"Well," Arbor muttered, brushing the thought aside with a flick of their tail. "At least it's not my problem. Not yet."
They twirled the staff absently, letting the motion ground them. Their mind wandered briefly to Alek. Maybe he cracked that moon or maybe it was arbor. The fight the other day was honestly a confusing mess.
Just then, there was a knock at the door. It wasn't the usual pounding that Freya used to announce her arrival, but a much quieter sound. The unexpected noise pulled Arbor out of their thoughts. They glanced at the staff in their hand and decided to put it away, slipping it into their weapon gate with a faint shimmer of magic.
"I'm coming, give me a sec!" Arbor called, their voice carrying as they jogged toward the entrance. They tugged open the door, blinking against the light outside.
Eva stood there, smiling brightly, with Alek lingering further back. Arbor's eyes darted around, searching instinctively for Freya, but she was nowhere to be seen. They frowned slightly.
"Wow," Eva said, giggling as she caught Arbor's expression. "That was a very negative reaction to seeing us."
"No, it's not that," Arbor said quickly, their tail flicking in slight embarrassment. "I'm just used to Freya being here."
Eva's smile softened. "No worries, I just found it funny, that's all."
Alek, standing at a distance with his arms crossed, took in the den with a critical eye. "So this is where you live, fox? An actual hole in the ground." He shook his head. "They honestly did you dirty with this."
Arbor frowned, their ears twitching in irritation. "I actually like it," they said defensively. "It feels familiar and cozy."
Alek raised a brow, looking faintly disgusted but didn't say anything else. His silence was even more annoying than some snarky comment.
"Okay, prince," Arbor said, crossing their arms. "Just because you've got some fancy castle to go home to doesn't mean you have to look down on me."
For a moment, Alek looked genuinely taken aback. Then his expression shifted into something unreadable. "I actually never really got to live there," he muttered, his voice quiet and tinged with something Arbor couldn't quite place. "And I probably won't see that place again."
Without another word, Alek turned and started walking away, his posture stiff.
Arbor tilted their head, watching him go. "What's his deal today?" they asked, glancing back at Eva.
She sighed, her smile turning a little awkward. "Well, yesterday, he got banished from the Nytherion kingdom by his dad or something. There's also some family drama going on. I've tried talking to him about it over the years, but he's... bottled up."
Arbor blinked, surprised. They hadn't expected that. "Banished, huh?" they murmured, their tail swishing thoughtfully. "Guess I'd be in a mood too."
Eva nodded. "He'll come around eventually. He always does. But for now, I'd give him a little space."
Arbor glanced toward the direction Alek had gone and shrugged. "If you say so."
That wasn't Arbor's problem anyway, Arbor thought, pushing the prince's sour mood out of their mind. They turned back to Eva. "What are you doing here, though?"
Eva's ears twitched slightly, her smile staying bright. "Me and Alek were told to come get you for our training. Freya and, for some reason, Jorma are already at the training grounds. I think Alek's supposed to be learning from Jorma. Freya seemed a bit annoyed about it."
Arbor sighed deeply, their tail swishing with resignation. Of course, there'd be training today. A world with a break was simply a world where Freya didn't exist.
"So, are you guys going to be showing up here every day now?" Arbor asked, tilting their head.
Eva nodded enthusiastically. "Yep! Freya says we're a team now, and that means we have to rely on and count on one another. It's all about good team building." She grinned as if the idea of training together sounded like fun.
Arbor frowned slightly, their ears twitching. It sounded more like an excuse Freya was using to avoid having to come all the way out to the den every morning. Still, the thought of having to get used to Alek being part of their mornings now was... not great. Arbor sighed again, this time with even more dramatic flair.
"Let me guess," Arbor said dryly, "Freya thinks teamwork means me putting up with that first thing every morning?" They tilted their head toward where Alek had wandered off. Alek was poking a blue, glowing mushroom with a stick. It then exploded with spores.
Eva stifled a laugh, covering her mouth with one hand. "You'll survive, Arbor. Probably."
"Yeah, sure," Arbor muttered.
The walk to the training ground was surprisingly peaceful. Arbor, for once, decided today wasn't the day to complain. The memory of Alek's annoyance still lingered, and they didn't particularly feel like provoking another argument—or worse, an attack. Instead, Arbor filled the quiet by talking about a book they'd read a while ago.
It was the one about a man who tamed a dragon, only to get eaten by it in the end. It was all Arbor could think to talk about since silence wasn't their strong suit, and they didn't want to admit they didn't know what else to say. They tossed in a bit of occasional rock collecting as they spoke, their fingers brushing dirt off a small stone before pocketing it.
Alek, walking a few paces ahead, occasionally glanced back, his expression a mix of bemusement and disapproval. "The man was an idiot," Alek finally said. His tone was clipped, but there was a note of thoughtfulness beneath it. "If you're taming something as powerful as a dragon, you shouldn't expect loyalty. A beast like that doesn't follow rules or respect weakness. A simple, prideful beast. He probably got what he deserved."
Eva rolled her eyes playfully. "Of course you'd think that," she said. "I don't think the man was stupid. He was just... naive. He trusted the dragon because he wanted to believe in something greater than himself. There's something kind of poetic about it, even if it ended badly."
Arbor looked between the two. "You two are a bit predictable," they said with a sly grin. "Alek thinks it's all about strength and dominance. Eva's looking for a deeper meaning. I just think the guy should've run faster."
That earned a small laugh from Eva, though Alek only gave a faint sigh.