Arren and Emma strolled into the kitchen, a space filled with the warm aroma of herbs and seasoned wood. Felix looked around to find containers intent on preparing a meal for his unexpected guests.
"How long have you been living here?" Emma ventured, breaking the silence that had settled around them.
Arren paused, his focus shifting from gathering containers to her. The quiet lingered for a moment longer before he replied, his voice low and thoughtful. "I have been living here for a long time. It has been years."
Emma sensed the reluctance in his words, the hesitation that hinted at a deeper story he was not ready to share. Arren seemed to inhabit an age that was difficult to pin down; while he appeared to be around the same age as Emma and Felix, there was an intangible weight to his presence that suggested much more. His striking eyes, though undeniably beautiful, bore a haunted look, hinting at sleepless nights and unspoken burdens. Wrapped in a long black coat that billowed around him, he was almost ethereal, a figure caught between worlds.
As he cracked two eggs into the container, Emma squinted, a flash of recognition lighting her features. "Are those griffin eggs?"
"Yes," he replied cautiously, his gaze scrutinizing her reaction. "Are you from here?"
Emma felt a rush of discomfort as she stumbled over her words, trying to mask her unease. "Yeah," she laughed nervously, "What made you think I'm not from here?"
He regarded her with an expression of disbelief, as if he could see through her facade. "Well, I've never seen anyone gaping at trees and creatures, marveling at a mere griffin's egg."
Trying to maintain her composure, she forced a smile, but the anxiety simmered just beneath the surface. "Oh, well, I'm just... like that. Ha ha."
What an idiot I must look like, she thought, shame flooding her as she averted her gaze. How did I let myself get caught in this web of awkwardness? Surely, he thinks I'm a fool.
Arren merely shrugged, a neutral expression on his face. "If you say so."
Emma attempted to regain a sense of normalcy, responding with a small smile, but his gaze remained fixed on the eggs he was whisking, leaving her feeling isolated.
Retreating from the kitchen, Emma made her way back to where Felix lay peacefully asleep, his face a picture of vulnerability. "I should be helping him in the kitchen, but I'm such a dumbass," she muttered quietly, curling up on the floor beside his bed, drawing her knees to her chest and burying her face in them.
Thoughts of her friends, Frieda and Luna, swirled in her mind alongside the concern for her foster brother, Alton. I must save them, she reminded herself, determination surging through her. I don't have the luxury of losing focus on what truly matters.
Minutes later, Arren entered the dimly lit room, illuminated only by a small lamp perched on a rickety table beside Felix's bed. He gestured for her to join him, indicating that the food was ready. Emma had dozed off in her crouched position but stood up, her body stiff from the awkwardness of her prior position.
They settled at a small table where Arren had laid out omelets, steaming and fragrant. Without hesitation, he nodded toward her portion, encouraging her to dig in. Still feeling the weight of exhaustion pulling at her, Emma picked up her fork and inhaled the delightful scent wafting from the plate. As she took her first bite, her hands began to tremble with frustration.
Here I am, she thought, with Felix half-conscious while I'm seated across from this enigmatic boy who barely speaks. Her irritation grew, compounded by the perplexing silence hanging between them. She felt trapped in this unfamiliar realm while her friends suffered, a fleeting sense of helplessness washing over her.
Suddenly, she noticed Arren watching her intently, and tears began to gather in her eyes. He set his fork down, poised to speak, but Emma quickly raised her hand to silence him. In that moment, she reveled in the rich flavors of the omelet, reminding herself that she hadn't eaten in what felt like ages.
Arren's gaze remained on her, an expression of surprise crossing his features as he observed her eating with such fervor. He chuckled softly, watching her lost in her culinary enjoyment, though Emma was too engrossed in her meal to notice his amusement.
Once they had both finished their meal, Arren stood up and motioned for her to follow him outside. The night enveloped them in darkness, yet the moon cast a silvery glow, guiding their way through the forest.
"I've lived here alone for years," Arren began, his tone somber. "It's been a long time since I encountered another human."
Emma surveyed the mesmerizing landscape around her, the trees swaying gently in the night breeze, their leaves shimmering like jewels under the moonlight. It dawned on her that Arren had brought her out here to offer some comfort, to help her feel a sense of belonging amid the chaos of her thoughts.
With a sincere smile, she glanced at him, but he continued walking ahead, his back turned to her. "Why do you live here alone?" she called out, curiosity propelling her forward. "Where is your family?"
He didn't respond telling her to follow him to a beautiful place where they could sit and gaze at the beautiful sky filled with stars and the moon.
"My family is probably dead."
Emma stared at him, her mind reeling from his revelations. "I- I was banished from my town eight years ago," he confessed, his voice a mix of sorrow and defiance. "When Thalmar ascended to the throne, he summoned the most talented children—those who had reached at least tier-5 in magic—from various schools scattered across the lands. My family believed they were sending me off to receive training to become a soldier for the emperor, a noble path. They had no idea that the capital city, which appeared so splendid from afar, was, in reality, a nightmarish laboratory where children like me were subjected to ghastly experiments. They turned us into something... monstrous."
Emma sat in stunned silence, trying to process the weight of his words. She glanced at Arren, whose form was cloaked in shadow, the fabric draping over him like a shroud, revealing only the subtle contours of his profile. She felt the atmosphere around them thicken as she composed her thoughts enough to respond. "What do you mean?" her voice came out softly, almost a whisper.
Arren met her gaze with a gentleness that pierced through his troubled past. Slowly, he removed the hood of his cloak, revealing delicate black ears that were distinctly shaped like those of a wolf, hinting at an otherworldly lineage. As he stood up, he swept off the rest of his cloak, and in the silvery glow of the moonlight, his magnificent black feathered wings unfurled behind him, each plume shimmering with an ethereal sheen. Emma was entranced, her eyes wide as she took in the breathtaking sight before her.
What is he? A wolf? A bird? A human? The questions swirled in her mind. Emma's lips parted in disbelief, but no words came forth as she struggled to make sense of the extraordinary being standing before her.