The fog had lifted some. Two figures walked along a worn dirt path.

Freya led with Arbor trailing behind.

Arbor’s attention wandered with every step. Their mind, however, stayed firmly on one singular thought.

“But does it have to be every day, though?” Arbor asked.

Freya’s eye twitched.

“Yes, Arbor,” she replied. “The key to improvement is practice.”

“Yeah, yeah, I’ve heard that before.” Arbor glanced up at the canopy, squinting. “But does it have to be, every, day? I rarely get any free ti—”

That was it. Freya stopped.

Her hand slowly moved to the hilt of her sheathed blade. Her fingers curled around the handle, and as she gripped it, the runes on her hand flickered to life. Thunderclouds and lightning bolts appeared along her skin.

Arbor's ears shot straight up, twitching frantically. “W-Wait, wait, Freya, c’mon—”

The sky shifted.

Above Arbor’s head, dark clouds coiled out of nowhere, swirling together. Red sparks crackled. The air buzzed with static.

“FREYA, WAIT, I WAS JOKING!” Arbor shouted. They waved their hands in wild panic, hopping backward as fast as their fox-like feet could manage. “CALM DO—”

CRACK-BOOM!

A bolt of red lightning shot down from the sky. It struck the ground just between their legs.

Their eyes went wide. Their limbs froze in place. Blue smoke curled up from the ground.

Poof.

Where Arbor had been standing, there was now a small, wide-eyed blue fox. Their ears were pinned flat, their fur puffed up twice its usual size. They blinked slowly.

“…Rude,” they thought, their small fox voice high-pitched and not at all words.

Freya's arms folded across her chest. Her eye looked down at Arbor with pure disappointment.

“Next time, you’ll think before you open your mouth,” she said and she walked on, her hooves clacking softly on the bridge ahead.

Arbor sat there staring after her. The bridge stretched over the river, and far in the distance, a floating stone stadium hovered in the sky. Above it, a huge false blue moon hung. It glowed faintly almost laughing at Arbor's misfortune.

“…She’s the villain here,” Arbor thought.

They padded after her before another swirl of blue smoke surrounded them.

They caught up quickly, walking just a few paces behind Freya.

“...I’m just saying,” Arbor began, arms folded behind their head again, “if I get struck by lightning every day, it’s technically counterproductive to my training.”

Freya didn’t respond, but the soft glow of a lightning rune flickered faintly on her knuckle.

Arbor went silent.

They hadn’t walked much further before the sound of rustling bushes caught both of their attention. Freya and Arbor stopped and their ears both twitched, alert. The rustling came from just ahead, off the path to the right.

“...Wild animal?” Arbor guessed.

“Not wild,” Freya replied. “Too steady.”

The bushes shook again. Then, with a loud rustle, a young elf boy emerged, his posture arms open, like he owned every inch of ground he walked on. His short, messy, dark green hair had bits of leaves tangled in it, though he didn’t seem to notice or care. His green jacket hung off his shoulders like a cloak, his arms not even in the sleeves. On his chest, a hawk-shaped crest marked his shirt, and two gold chains dangled from each long ear, each adorned with the same hawk insignia. His eyes were sharp.

“Sorry to interrupt whatever this is, teacher,” he called. He didn’t even glance at Arbor. “But don’t we have somewhere to be?”

Behind the elf was a sheep-like girl. Her shorter stature forced her to step quickly to keep up. Her dress was like Freya’s, but the main color was deep garnet-purple instead of Freya's crimson-red. Her horns barely poked up past her short, fluffy hair, her face round with youth. Her eyes darted between Freya and Arbor.

Arbor glanced at her, then at Freya. Their eyes squinted.

“...family maybe?” Arbor thought, raising a brow.

"Oh, thank Atheria, you two are here," Freya sighed. “I don’t think I could take another minute of this. Why are you two lurking around in the bushes”

"We got sidetracked." the elf boy said. He jerked his thumb toward himself with a cocky grin. "I was trying to show her a shortcut.”

The sheep-girl raised a pointed eyebrow at the elf.

The elf just brushed it off, “It worked out, didn’t it?"

The sheep-girl sighed, “We got lost, Alek.”

Alek shot her a glare, “Details.”

Freya’s eye locked firmly on Alek. “You decided to 'lead' and got lost. I suppose I should be grateful you didn’t wander into a drake’s den.” She folded her arms unimpressed.

Alek shrugged, “But we made it, didn’t we? Sorry though.”

Just then Freya's hand began to shine from the runes on her fingers and palm.

Her eyes narrowed. “That’s not right.” Her gaze darted toward the treeline. Her fingers moved as if gripping invisible threads.

Arbor blinked. "What’s not right?"

Freya didn’t answer, her expression hardening.

“The rune ar-” Freya paused thinking of what to say.

“I’ll be back later. The Legion has called,” she said suddenly. Her eyes darted toward Eva, then Alek. “I’ll meet you at the training grounds. Don’t wander. Don’t slow down. And do not follow me.”

Pressing her foot into the dirt below it began to glow. She drew a circle, her fingers glowing faint red as runes ignited.

She stepped into the center of the circle.

“Bye.”

Lightning flashed. The air cracked with a sudden, deafening boom, and Freya was gone.

Silence.

The only sound left was the soft buzz of static that lingered in the air where she’d stood.

Arbor blinked. "Oh wow. That was pretty cool"

Alek turned, squinting at Arbor for a moment before his grin widened. “So… you’re that fox, huh? The one that skipped all the provisions?”

Arbor tilted their head. "Something like that, i guess?"

Alek's grin grew sharper, his eyes flicking up and down. “Glad to see we’ve got some talent on the team. Maybe even enough to rival my own.”

Arbor just blinked slowly. Then, without another word, they turned and started walking away.

“Okay, cool. I’m going over here now.”

The sheep-girl' gave a soft laugh. She stepped past Alek and walked toward Arbor. Her eyes squinted slightly as if searching for something. Her eyes glowed faintly pink for a moment.

Arbor’s ears flicked. They felt it. A shift.

It was faint, but their body reacted before their mind caught up. A subtle push of aura flicked outward from them. It wasn’t enough to knock anything over, but it was enough to disrupt the unseen effect that had been focused on them.

Eva blinked. Her eyes returned to soft green, and she tilted her head, curious.

Her smile widened. “Nice to meet you, I’m Eva, Freya's little sis if you couldn’t tell. I’ve been stuck with him for a while,” she said, her eyes flicking toward Alek. 

Eva now whispered so that Alek couldn’t hear. “That's Alek, he’s the elven prince of Nytherion, but 7th in line, I think. So don't let his title bother you.” Eva backed up from Arbor, now acting like she hadn’t just dropped some important information. “Nice to see a new face.”

“Don’t get too comfortable,” Alek called out, in an annoyed tone. “You heard Freya. We’re wasting daylight. If we want to make it to the training grounds, we should move.”

Eva glanced at Arbor, then at Alek. “Fine. Fine Let’s go.”

Arbor shrugged. "Sure, fearless leader."

15 Minutes Later

The air smelled faintly of moss and wildflowers, clean and sharp in Arbor's nose. 

They sneezed.

Arbor kicked a loose stone down the dirt path, hands behind their head. “How long is this walk supposed to be? Feels like we’ve been at it for hours,” they muttered.

“It’s been ten minutes,” Alek said flatly, not even looking at them.

“Yeah, well, ten minutes too long,” Arbor shot back.

Alek’s steps slowed. “You think this is a joke?” His voice was quiet. He faced Arbor. “We’re the lucky few with a future as legion members. The sooner you stop treating this like a stroll, the better.”

Arbor’s ears twitched. They didn’t answer right away, hands fiddling with a small stone. “Not treating it like a stroll,” they said finally. “Just not in a rush to prove something to the trees.”

Alek’s eyes narrowed slightly. “You think this place cares about your pace? You think I care?” He stepped forward. “People are clawing for a chance to stand where you are, and you’re wasting it.”

Arbor tilted their head. “Wasting it?” they repeated. “I’m here, aren’t I? Walking the same dirt road as you. We both ended up here, so maybe save the ‘I'm better than you’ speech for someone who asked for it.”

Alek took a slow breath. “This isn’t about me being better,” he said. “It’s about you dragging us down. The Legion doesn’t need people who ‘just show up.’ They need people who act.”

Arbor let out a breathy laugh, the stone tightening in their hand. “Oh, so that’s it.” They shook their head. “You don’t know anything about me, Prince.”

“I know enough fox,” Alek said. “And what I see is someone waiting for the world to move for them instead of moving themselves.”

That did it. Arbor’s ears flicked back, their tail twitching. The rock in their hand was now a ball of spikes. “I’m not dragging anyone,” they said. “You want me to sprint just to make you feel like we’re doing something? Not my style.” They turned, eyes meeting Aleks. "I move forward, Alek. One step at a time. Just 'cause you’re running doesn’t mean you’re ahead.”

For a second, Alek didn’t respond. Slowly his hands hung at his sides, fingers curling into loose fists. “That’s the kind of thing you animals say when they don’t want to admit they’re slow.”

“Or maybe it’s what, people, say,” Arbor replied, taking a single step forward, “when they’re smart enough to know you don’t win by burning yourself out before you get there.”

Alek stepped forward too. The space between them felt smaller than it was.

“Say that again fox,” Alek said.

Arbor stayed still, eyes locked with Alek’s.

“Alright, alright, that’s enough,” Eva’s voice cut through the tension. She stepped between them, one hand raised. “Both of you, breathe before you say something real stupid.”

Alek’s jaw tightened. Arbor exhaled slowly through their nose, letting their shoulders drop.

“I’m not about to listen to this all the way to the training grounds,” Eva said, eyes on both of them now. Her tone was calm, but firm in a way that didn’t leave room for argument. “So unless you both want to explain to Freya why you’re late and bruised, I suggest you walk it off.” Her eyes flashed brown to pink for a second, and the shift in the air was impossible to miss.

Arbor stepped back first, rolling their neck with a loose shrug. “Fine. I’m chill.” They shoved their hands into their pockets and turned back toward the trail.

Alek stayed still a moment longer.

“Whatever,” he muttered, walking ahead of both of them.

They walked in silence. Eva kept herself between them as a barrier. Alek’s posture stayed stiff. Arbor lagged behind a bit, hands back behind their head.