Deep within the heart of the forest, nestled among the trees, there existed a fox's den that went against the expectations that you would expect from such abodes. Unlike the typical burrows strewn with dirt and grass, this den had the mark of a masterful craftsman, as if the resident fox possessed the skills of a seasoned architect.

Inside, the atmosphere was one of comfort, including a smoothed stone floor polished to a shine with rugs scattered about, each with moon-shaped symbols. Wooden beams provided structural support, giving a sense of stability to the carefully constructed space. It had a little table with short chairs in the middle of the room. The ceiling, though just tall enough for the fox to navigate comfortably, might seem a tad confining for the likes of you or me. Yet, for the fox who called this den home, it was a sanctuary.

Natural light filtered through a couple of deliberately placed glass windows in the ceiling, casting a warm, hazy glow upon the decorated den floor. Amidst this harmonious blend of craftsmanship and nature, a round mound of fine grass lay below a round bed made of a strange green tree bark poorly stacked together with leaves and clay holding it together. That corner seemed to be the only part of the den untouched by the hand of the craftsman. Here, on this bed, reclined the owner of this unique dwelling, a small blue fox, distinguishable from its woodland counterparts by a pair of ears adorning both the top and sides of its head. Its fur boasted a captivating blend of blue hues adorned with elegant brown spots, a sight that would surely captivate any normal observer fortunate enough to peer into this extraordinary fox's den.

As the early morning sunlight reflected into the den, its warm rays focused on the blue fox tucked snugly in the hastily crafted bed. Despite the gentle intrusion of light, the fox was determined to cling to the remnants of a comfortable sleep, resisting the call of the day.

However, above the den, an unexpected visitor disrupted the happily snoozing fox. A peculiar figure, resembling a sheep but with humanoid features, crouched and tapped on the glass ceiling. Grey, short, and curly fur adorned their form, complemented by floppy ears, horns, and a more human-like feminine face. With human hands but fluffy goat legs. Their skin was a light gray, and they wore loosely fitted robes with a cloak and boots.

"Arbor, wake up. You'll sleep the whole day away if you linger any longer, and goddess Atheria would not like that," the sheep-like entity implored with a hint of annoyance in her voice. In response, Arbor, the blue fox, playfully wiggled their nose and emitted growling noises, a whimsical protest to the interruption. Unfazed, the sheep continued, "Arbor, you know I can't understand you when you're like that."

Arbor let out an annoyed growl of resistance before giving in to the inevitability of the morning. Rolling out of bed and assuming a prone position on the den floor, Arbor initiated a transformative process. Their fox form seamlessly shifted into a more humanoid form; blue fur unfolded into cascading hair on their head, and the fox's sleek body adopted the tones of dark brown skin.

Maintaining the two sets of distinctive ears and a tail, Arbor's androgynous appearance took shape. Arbor often wondered how humans could live with such a sensory system. Arbor marveled at the advantages of heightened hearing and smell that their fox features bestowed. The comforting support of the tail during movement added to the unique and helpful experience of their unusual form.

"I'm up, Freya. No need to keep tapping on the glass," Arbor called out, still sprawled out on the den floor. Unmoved, Freya, the sheep-like companion, said, "Okay, I'll be waiting outside. Also, put some clothes on." With a touch of embarrassment, Arbor glanced downward, acknowledging their modesty, and agreed with Freya's sensible suggestion. Meanwhile, Freya settled onto a nearby tree stump, fiddling with her cloak, patiently awaiting Arbor's emergence for the day.

Arbor thoughtlessly approached a wooden closet that had a slight blue glow seeping out of the cracks in the door. It was adorned with intricate carvings, telling tales of a distant battle with origins that remained a mystery to Arbor. This closet was a magical closet that created random magic clothing for the owner that day. These clothes maintained a reserve of magic, which made it less tiring to use magic. Arbor had received it from the craftsman who built their den, but even the craftsman didn't really know where the item came from. He had been holding onto it, waiting for the right person.

From within, Arbor retrieved a beautifully crafted kimono, slightly oversized, draping elegantly off both shoulders. Underneath, a sleek black sleeveless bodysuit boasted a striking metal moon symbol just below the neckline. The kimono itself featured an exquisite tree design against a captivating gradient backdrop, transitioning from pink to purple. Arbor completed the ensemble with pink thigh-high socks, each adorned with a metal moon symbol, and a pair of sandals. 

Standing before a small mirror, they meticulously arranged their tuffs of hair, a mischievous grin revealing a row of sharp teeth as they ensured everything looked just right. Right before leaving, Arbor made sure to grab their bag. It was a light brown cylinder-shaped bag with metal crescent-shaped moons on both sides. They would proceed to put it around there waist, having it on there backside.

Outside, Freya's patience wore thin. "You are taking forever, Arbor!" she exclaimed with a hint of annoyance. "I'm coming!" Arbor responded, the door creaking open as they made their way toward Freya, the enchanting attire blending seamlessly with the whimsical atmosphere of the fox's den. 

Outside of Arbor's Den, the forest enveloped itself in a light, misty fog, lending an ethereal quality to the surroundings. The leaves on the trees, instead of the usual verdant green, took on a distinct blue hue, and sticky green sap oozed from their surfaces. While the inside of the trees revealed wood of a vibrant green, a stark contrast to the seemingly normal exterior.

Freya, knowing how long it would take to get where they needed to go, instructed Arbor, "Follow me; we have much to do." Arbor, who walked with a nonchalant demeanor with hands leisurely resting behind their head, followed behind Freya. The well-trodden path they followed had become so familiar that the grass beneath refused to grow, bearing the marks of countless footsteps. Flattened stones, strategically placed by Arbor, littered the pathway, adding a touch of contrast to the otherwise natural setting. It was a habit of Arbor’s to collect interesting rocks while they walked, and today was no different.

As Arbor strolled, their eyes were keen on the ground, occasionally pausing to pick up stones that caught their interest. Arbor possessed the unique ability to manipulate these stones, creating beams of light or altering their shapes at will. However, this power often had a mind of its own, veering out of control and presenting challenges of its own.

In the midst of their walk, Arbor couldn't help but ask, "Are we training again?" Freya affirmed, "Yes, Arbor. We have to ensure you are ready to defend the forest from any unwelcome guests." Arbor's expression soured, discontent evident on their face. "We train every day, while many others living on the edges of Atheria's Forest get to lead their lives without such constraints," they lamented.

As they crossed a creaking bridge, Freya seized the moment to enlighten Arbor about their divine blessings. "The goddess Atheria has bestowed incredible abilities upon us, Arbor," Freya began, her voice carrying a weight of importance. "Your powers are untamed, and it's crucial for everyone's well-being that you learn to harness them. That's why we train."

Arbor, feeling particularly lazy, mumbled, "Yeah, but does it have to be every day? I rarely get any free time. I wish I could leave this forest for once. The elven people always leave the forest." Freya, fed up with the whining, whipped around. Suddenly, clouds formed over her head, and lightning struck between Arbor's legs. The shock not only startled Arbor but also transformed them back into their fox form. Freya's ability to control the weather was on full display.

Before Freya could respond to Arbor's shock, they were interrupted by the sudden appearance of a tall elf boy. "Sorry to interrupt whatever you are doing, but we have places to be," declared the dark-skinned elf with pointed ears, exuding an air of superiority. They had dark green hair, a cloak, and greenish pants. Under that lay a belt covered with any tool he would need. Beside him, a sheep-looking humanoid in an oversized sweater and short hair sat on the ground, displaying a drowsy and indifferent demeanor. Their skin was gray with patches of peach, their ears were droopy like Freya's, and they looked younger than Freya. 

Freya turned abruptly, her relief evident as she exclaimed, "Oh, thank Atheria, you two are here. I don't think I could take another minute of this. I will be back later; my legion has called. I’ll meet you at the training grounds. Bye!" With a swift motion, Freya pivoted and began drawing a circle in the dirt, inscribing words that eluded Arbor's understanding, given their illiteracy. Stepping into the circle, Freya stood as the clouds gathered overhead, casting a shadow over the sun-drenched scene. Abruptly, a bolt of light struck the very spot where Freya stood. Another burst of light shot away from the circle, leaving Arbor and the newcomers facing each other on the creaking bridge. the mysterious display, leaving Arbor confused.

Arbor, still in their fox form, began to whine. Realizing that their questions were incomprehensible, they shifted back into their humanoid form and collected themselves . "What was that!?" Arbor exclaimed, a mix of excitement and concern coloring their tone.

The elf responded condescendingly, "Have you never seen a rune circle before, considering all the training you do with her?" Before Arbor could respond, the elf continued with an air of snobbery, "Of course you haven’t; most of your people are pretty feral. No wonder you can’t seem to understand your abilities. I bet you can't even read what that spell said."

Annoyed by the elf's attitude, Arbor scrunched up their face and muttered, "You are never any fun to talk to." Shifting focus, Arbor greeted the sheep loudly with a smile. "Hi, Eva!" Eva, the sheep humanoid, responded with a tired but smiling, "Hi Arbor."

The elf boy, feeling neglected, cleared his throat. Arbor, not wanting to really acknowledge him, said, "Oh yeah, the stuck up elf boy." Alek, with a slight twitch in there eye, retorted, "My name is Alek! Prince of the elves, the one who slays creatures dumb enough to enter Atheria's domain uninvited." The proclamation of his princely status carried a hint of frustration, and the self-given title of a monster slayer seemed to be both a boast and a reminder of a past moment.

In reality, Alek's princely title held little weight beyond a mere formality. With numerous older siblings ahead in the line of succession, his chances of ascending to the throne were slim. The current elven queen, a woman with a reputation for a promiscuous lifestyle, had many other heirs more likely to take the throne. Alek's position as the "slayer of monsters" was a title given to him by one of his sisters in an attempt to lift him out of a depressed state.

As Alek walked with a group of elven knights toward the palace, their journey took an unexpected turn. The knights were ambushed by a baby wyvern, only a few months old but already formidable. Despite its youth, the creature was double the size of an elf and had the unusual ability to shoot explosive charges instead of the typical full-fire blasts. The knights skillfully dispatched the wyvern, while Alek panic fumbling his blade and tripping over himself in fear. In the chaos, Alek found himself with the opportunity to deliver the finishing blow. It was in that moment of panic and triumph that he gave himself the grandiose title he now proudly declared despite his knight doing most of the work.

Eva, still lounging on the floor next to Alek, couldn't help but give a sarcastic grin. With a yawn, she muttered, "Oh yes, Prince Alek, the brave and fearless elf, will you save me?" while pretending to faint. Arbor, finding the situation amusing, began to laugh. Unfazed, Alek turned his back and walked toward the training grounds in clear annoyance.

As Alek distanced himself, Eva slowly got up, her oversized sleeves dangling. With a mischievous grin, she caught up to Alek, playfully wrapping her arms around his shoulders. In a teasing tone, she asked, "Aw, you aren't mad at me, are you, Alek?" The duo continued toward the training ground, the playful banter marking the end of this chapter in their unfolding story.