Alek spun the scythe once. The runes along its edge pulsed faintly, and the weapon seemed to vibrate with power, as if eager to strike. He planted the butt of the scythe on the ground, fixing his gaze on Arbor.

Arbor tilted their head, lips pressing into a flat line. “Really? A scythe?” They pointed lazily at the weapon. “You just carry that thing around like a medieval farmer looking for hay? I was starting to get a bit hyped up.”

Alek didn’t respond immediately, his grip tightening on the weapon. The glowing runes flared briefly as if they required his full focus. "This isn’t for show," he said quietly. "And you’re about to see why."

Arbor let out a short laugh. "Alright, alright. Just try not to trip over it, okay? That thing’s bigger than you."

Alek’s eyes narrowed with a frown, but not one of sadness or hurt, but a look of pity, “It honestly sad how dense you are fox. I had a doubt that I was wrong, for only a moment, until you opened your mouth again.”

Arbor tilted their head, but then Alek began to dash at them their movement a bit sloppyer than before they had the weapon. The slashes were much wider but less controlled. It looked like it took a huge amount of energy to swing the thing,

Arbors staff didn’t even flow because of the lack of danger. The dodging was simple. Arbor honestly had a harder time trying not to say anything.

Until Alek did that boosting thing from before and a sudden rush of wind flew by. The gems and runes in the blade began to glow a suddle wind whirled around the blade.

The scythe moved like an extension of his body, its arc wide and sweeping as it cut through the air. Arbor’s instincts screamed at them to dodge, and they did, ducking just as the blade whooshed past their head.

“Okay, that’s sharp,” Arbor muttered, hopping back as Alek spun the scythe in a follow-through motion.

The blade came down again, aimed at their shoulder. Arbor raised their staff to block, the clash of obsidian against enchanted steel ringing out across the arena. But Arbor quickly realized that the sycthe was in fact heavy, as there arms began to shake. Like someone had dropped a kitchen table on them.

They had to push the wieght to the side of them and off to quickly get away.  From there bag, they drop two trinagler black stones on the ground.

“I wanted to save those for later.” theymuttered, frowning.

“You always fight this dramatic? There was like a build up for this, a bit much dont you think?” Arbor asked while they paced circling eat other.

Alek didn’t answer. Arbor dodged as best they could, the staff spinning in their hands to parry where dodging wasn’t an option.

Arbor’s ears twitched. Something about the air felt... wrong. The hum of the scythe grew deeper, resonating in their chest like a second heartbeat.

“You good over there?” Arbor asked, their grip tightening on the staff.

With that someone laughed. But it wasn’t Alek, it was the scythe, as if Arbor had made some sort of joke. 

It was a hollow sound. Like wind blowing through a cracked window. His eyes glowed faintly now, the same dark green as the scythe’s runes. His body twitching with wind magic and an aura that was chilling.

If Arbor had a bit more sense and slightly less pride They would have poofed right there running from just that sound alone. But the staff had given them a bit more confidence filling their limbs with another stronger high of magic seeming to adjust to the threat. They believe they could win.

Alek charged.

His feet hit the stone hard, faster than before. The scythe trailed behind him, but it didn’t feel like he was carrying it anymore. It felt like it was dragging him forward.”

He swung.

The scythe didn’t just slice. It howled. Arbor raised their staff to block, but the blade never connected. The staff flooded there mind with information again seeming to scream. Arbor to listened and instead of using the staff, bit down on a rock. Suddenly the staff glew and the rock turned to a wall of stone.

Suddenly, A crescent-shaped wind slash shot from the scythe’s edge, slicing toward them with terrifying speed. It cut straight through the stone wall.

The moon’s aura should have stopped it. It always stopped attacks that could cause real harm.

But this time, it didn’t.

The wind slash tore through the air and slammed into Arbor’s arm, leaving a shallow but bleeding cut with the stone wall collasped. The force knocked them back, their feet skidding against the platform as they clutched their arm, eyes wide.

“Damn it, what the—” Arbor started, their voice trailing off as they stared at the wound.

Eva throughout the fight was barely paying attention until this. “That’s not supposed to happen,” she said. “Alek,” Eva called, her tone firm. “Put that thing down. Now.”

Alek didn’t answer immediately. His grip tightened on the scythe.

“I—” Alek started, his voice strained, but before he could say more, the moon’s aura rippled again. The floating stone overhead pulsed faintly, and cracks formed.

“Dang it, how did you guys mess up this much.” eva yelled. “Arbor give me a moment.”

And like that eva seemed to meditate.

“Oh wow. This is great” Arbor said while looking a the weird slightly floating Alek.

Arbor tried to stall for what ever eva was doing. With a swing of the scythe a gust swept. Another weird set of magic commands and magic energy came from the staff but there instinct told them to do another thing. They paused for just a moment, leading to the cutting of their right leg and another on their staff arm. Three thin lines in stones behind them hissed as a perfect slice was cut through them. 

Their confidence in beating Alek was crushed, no matter how much information the staff gave, their animal instincts would want them to do something else. Their mind could only take so much. Their body could only move so fast. Their soul could only take in so much energy. They felt like a pot with too much water, making a mess on the counter. 

“Dang it!” Arbor dove to the side, a slight pain in their bleeding limbs, eyes darting to Alek. “I can’t keep up.” 

“FIGHT ME!” Alek’s voice was no longer his own. His words echoed in two tones. His head twitched, like something was rattling around in his skull.

“Yeah, nah,” Arbor muttered, backing away. They pressed their hands to the ground. Runes flared beneath Alek's feet, tracing a glowing circle. "Containment time.”

The stones arbor placed around the arena during their fight surged up to the two triangular stones where Alek stood, enclosing him in a dome of sharp, dense, jagged rock. The whispers of the wind dimmed.

Arbor slumped to their knees, rubbing their face. “There. Stay for a while so we can cool off.”

The magic from Arbor was stable. The staff seemed to knit Arbor's magic together, strengthening it and then adding another layer of its own doment magic. A bit of a surprise for once something seemed to go Arbor's way.

But a piece of the staff magic touched something within Arbor that it shouldn’t have it seemed. That same foreign feeling within their soul came back. Seeming to have absorbed all of the magic the staff gave, destabilizing arbors output, and weakening the circle. But that wasn’t the end of it. As if the foreign feeling hadn’t done enough, it decided to spit all the energy back out but stronger into the staff. 

Without so much as a moment of rest, the staff glowed, seeming to be unstable. The energy that flowed out of Arbor felt different from their magic, Arbors felt more solid, but this warm. No, Hot! Like a kettle about to screech. 

And all of a sudden it was gone and still. The moon glowed one last time before going completely dim. It aura gone. 

“Oh, come on—”

BOOM.

The dome and the staffs gem exploded in a wild burst of wind and debris. Alek burst forward in a blur of black wind, his movements erratic but fast. He wasn’t walking. He was gliding. The scythe left trails of black mist behind until he stopped. 

This fight was way beyond Arbors simple understanding of magic and at this point they just looked in fear.

“All debts due. All sins weighed. All judgments absolute.” The voices from Alek’s throat howled like a pack of wolves.

And everything around arbor went blank. Three windy figure appeared surrounding arbor all holding Aleks scythe. Arbor appeared in an hourglass on a scale next to a feather. The whole zipping around made arbor almost vomit. What was this.

Suddenly two giant pink eyes appeared and arbor was back in where they stood. Alek began the fly at them.

Painfully Arbor raised their shattered staff. They were too slow.

Eva’s eyes glowed bright pink. She stood slowly, one hand raised, her lips parting as she whispered.

“Sleep, Alek.”

Her voice was soft, but it rippled through the air. The pink glow surged. Alek’s body jolted mid-swing. His fingers slipped. The scythe’s glow went out. His legs crumpled. He fell forward, landing face-first in a puddle of sticky sap.

His body shifted — shoulders narrowing, hair lengthening slightly, his frame changing just enough for Arbor to notice that they became a bit more feminine.

Silence.

Eva lowered her hand, her glow fading. “You’re welcome.”

The scythe twitched. It rose, hovering in place, the runes still faintly glowing black. Then — click.

A crack opened in the air, blue light flashing as the scythe zipped through it, vanishing in an instant.

Eva’s eyes widened. “Nope. Nope, that’s bad.”

Arbor’s eyes darted to where it vanished. There was way too much going on for their mind to process. All that came out was, “What? Was that?”

Eva rubbed her face. “In terms of the spel they cast on you im not sure at all. But I know one thing, only people can open weapon gates.”

She glanced at Alek, now snoring softly on the ground. "We’re going to have to wait for Freya.”

A couple of minutes had passed and the arena was finally still.

Arbor sat cross-legged on the cracked arena floor, eyes half-closed with exhaustion. They kept their hands busy, fingers working a small stone into a smooth, rounded shape. It wasn’t much, just something to do while their mind reflected on what happened. Their arms felt heavy, and their body ached from the now-healing cuts from a potion they had in their bag. The sharp pain from before faded leaving just exhaustion settling in like a weighted blanket. The blood from shallow cuts on their arms and legs dripped slowly into the dirt until they eventually disappeared..

Eva sat on the edge of the bleachers. Alek lay sprawled across her lap, face half-buried in a sticky pool of tree sap. His hair was longer now — not by much, but enough for Arbor to notice. Arbor was a bit puzzled at the sudden transformation, but it seemed to be a very small thing. Eva's fingers moved through Alek's hair in slow, steady strokes, like she was lulling him into a deeper sleep, while fighting something internal.

“Well,” Arbor muttered, eyes still on the stone in their hands. Their voice carried that familiar lazy drawl, but it had an edge of something heavier. “I guess I’ll stop making fun of weapon choices. Lesson learned... kinda.”

Eva’s eyes flicked to Arbor.

“What happened to the staff?” she asked.

Arbor sighed, setting the half-shaped stone down on their knee. “I can’t control my magic output,” they admitted. “So the staff exploded.”

“Exploded?” Eva tilted her head, her goat-like pupils narrowing. “That’s… not great. Do you think that magic barrier you made would’ve actually held otherwise?”

Arbor scratched the back of their head, avoiding her gaze. “Yeah, probably. I read a lot about those types of barriers, plus those rocks where made to trap things. The issue wasn’t that — it was me.” They flicked the broken edge of their kimono sleeve. “Error in my system, y’know?”

Eva hummed softly. “Happens to the best of us.” Her eyes stayed on Arbor for a moment longer, as if she was trying to see something Arbor couldn't.

Arbor didn’t like that look.

They shifted in their seat, leaning forward, elbows on their knees, fingers tapping absently against the stone. Their eyes darted to Eva, narrowing.

“But for real, thanks,” Arbor said. “Even though you probably should’ve stopped him earlier, y’know. How did you do that, anyway?”

Eva tilted her head back, her gaze lifting to the fractured patches of the moon. Her fingers didn’t stop moving through Alek’s hair. She hummed.

“Sleep, Alek,” she whispered softly. Her eyes flickered faintly pink for a second before dimming to green. Alek shifted in her lap, his face scrunching briefly before settling into stillness.

“I kinda just… can,” she said, glancing back at Arbor. She sighed a bit, “Since you are going to be here on the team, I might as well tell you how it works. Ever since I was young, I’ve been able to see people’s souls — like, I get a sense of their emotions . How they’re feeling, what’s disturbing them.”

Her eyes lowered to Alek as he twitched in his sleep. Her fingers moved slower.

“Lately, I can influence them a bit,” she added, still looking at Alek’s face. “Just a nudge. Usually, I make them feel tired. Not sure why that’s the one thing I’m good at, but here we are. Today was a bit stronger than usual though.” See glanced down at the knocked-out elf.

Her eyes shifted to Arbor. They didn’t like that shift.

“But you?” Eva tilted her head, eyes narrowing. “You’re... different. I can’t get a proper read on you. You block me. Like a wall.”

Their fingers stopped moving for the first time since the fight ended. The smooth rock they’d been shaping now had a hairline crack. Arbor frowned at it, thumb tracing the line slowly.

“Sounds about right,” they muttered, their voice quiet but seeming to have wanted to hear more than that. An explanation. “I’m great at being difficult. Call it a talent.”

Eva didn’t push.

“It’s not just that,” she said softly, her eyes never leaving Alek’s face. Her voice was quieter now. “You feel muffled. Like there’s something heavy in the way. I can’t tell if it’s protecting you… or keeping something in.”

Arbor froze. They felt the familiar tension rise in their chest, that slow coil of pressure that told them it was time to leave or say something stupid. They pressed their thumb into the stone again, harder this time, turning the hairline crack into a split.

“Well, congrats, soul reader,” Arbor muttered, their tone laced with forced humor. They didn’t look at her. Their eyes stayed locked on the split stone. “You’ve officially creeped me out. Don’t tell me you’re gonna start trying to ‘fix’ me or something. Pretty sure I’m a lost cause.”

Eva snorted.

“Fix you? No. You’re not broken, Arbor,” she said simply. “Just… locked. Whatever’s behind that wall, you’ll open it when you’re ready. Until then, I’ll settle for you complaining less.”

Her gaze shifted back to Arbor, a teasing smirk tugging at the corner of her lips.

Arbor leaned back letting out an exaggerated groan as they stretched their arms behind them. Their grin returned.

“Fat chance,” Arbor muttered. “Complaining is basically my brand.”

“But will see, I guess,” they muttered.