Read Atheria's Eden: Novel :: Chapter 17: A Quiet Conclusion 1

The training grounds had finally calmed.

Illusion Freya had vanished.
The arena’s floating runes dimmed.
Silence settled over the cracked stone like dust.

Alek sat on the lowest bleacher step, elbows on his knees, staring at his daggers as if they had personally offended him. Eva was beside him, rubbing her temples, a faint smear of dried pink beneath one eye from whatever she’d done earlier. Arbor hovered a few feet away, clutching their staff, still unsure whether they were allowed to sit with the group or not.

Eva noticed first.

“Arbor,” she said, patting the empty space beside her, “you can come here, you know.”

Arbor blinked, then awkwardly walked over, sitting stiffly at the edge of the bench like a fox perched on a trap.

Alek snorted. “They always look like they’re about to bolt.”

Arbor’s ears flattened. “I don’t… bolt.”

Eva nudged Arbor’s shoulder lightly. “You kind of do.”

Arbor puffed up indignantly, but it was half-hearted. Their mana reserves were still drained from earlier; even their annoyance felt sluggish.

Silence stretched between the three of them. Not hostile — just that strange, fragile quiet that comes after too many surprises all at once.

Finally, Arbor took a breath.

“So… earlier,” they said, staring at their hands, “I didn’t know you could… do all that stuff. The… pink-eye thing. And the orbs. And the… command word thing that almost stopped my heart.”

Eva winced. “Sorry about that. I try to aim my commands at one person, but strong emotions make it… spill out.”

Alek frowned. “You actually felt that, fox?”

Arbor nodded. “Yeah. My whole body locked up for a second. Multiple times actually.”

Eva’s expression softened. “I really am sorry. I only use that when I don’t have a choice.”

Arbor hesitated, then asked quietly, “So… what exactly is your power?”

Eva took a long breath. For the first time today, she looked genuinely uncertain.

“It’s… complicated.” She folded her hands in her lap, eyes dimming from green to a soft, faint pink. “I can feel people’s emotions. Not just guess them — feel them. Like… tides. Or colors.” She looked down. “And sometimes I can nudge them. Not control, just… guide. Push.”

Alek raised a brow. “’Push’,” he repeated. “You nearly made me black out.”

Eva glared at him. “You were opening a Gate, Alek. If I hadn’t pushed, you would have gone too far.”

Alek’s jaw tightened. He didn’t argue — which said a lot.

Arbor tilted their head. “So… what’s your affinity? Mind? Soul? Illusion?”

Eva shook her head quickly. Too quickly.

“I… don’t know.”

Arbor stared. “You don’t know?”

Eva pulled her knees up, hugging them lightly, her voice dropping.

“My powers didn’t come from… normal training. Or a natural affinity. They just… happened. One day.” She forced a smile. “And I don’t really want to talk about where.”

Arbor opened their mouth — then closed it. The look in her eyes said enough.

Alek sighed and leaned back against the bleacher. “She’s always been weird like that. Power with no discipline. It’s a miracle she hasn’t blown herself up.”

Eva kicked his shin.

“Ow.”

Arbor looked between them — their banter softening into something strangely comforting. These two had history. Tension, sure, but also a familiarity Arbor didn’t quite understand.

Then Alek looked up at Arbor.

“What about you?” he muttered. “You’re dodging spells like you’ve trained for decades. And that rune-shaping— no, honestly, what even was that rock trick?”

Arbor stiffened.

“I… don’t know,” they said truthfully. “Sometimes it feels natural. Other times it’s like… something else is trying to control it with me. Like my mana isn’t always my own.”

Eva’s eyes flashed pink for just a moment — not using her power, just reacting.

“That sounds terrifying.”

Arbor swallowed. “Yeah. It is.”

Eva leaned closer, lowering her voice. “Has Freya said anything about it?”

“She doesn’t know either,” Arbor murmured. “Says I just have to keep practicing. And keep using the staff.”

The staff. The one thing keeping the foreign feeling at bay. Arbor wrapped their fingers tighter around it.

Alek tapped one of his daggers against his knee, glancing away. “Well… we all have our things, I guess.” He let out a slow exhale. “My power— it’s wind. Enhancement. Not flashy like Eva’s, not explosive like yours. Just… fast.”

Arbor frowned. “And the… gate thing?”

Alek stiffened.

Eva shot him a sharp look.

Alek rubbed the back of his neck. “That’s… not something I use unless I have to.”

“Why?” Arbor asked softly.

Alek’s eyes narrowed — not in anger, but in memory.

“Because the last time I opened it all the way,” he muttered, “I nearly didn’t come back.”

The air hung still.

Eva placed a hand on Alek’s shoulder. He didn’t shrug it off.

Arbor exhaled, ears lowering in understanding. “So… all three of us are just… messed up in different ways, huh?”

Eva laughed softly. “Pretty much.”

Alek snorted. “We’re a disaster team.”