It was the same path as always.
The worn trail winding through Eden's forest, glowing faintly with magic beneath the soft canopy light. The trees were still tinted with their deep-blue leaves, and the moss still muffled their footsteps.
But this time... Arbor wasn't alone.
Now there were two strangers walking with them—Eva and Alek—chatting easily a few steps ahead.
Arbor trailed behind, unsure where to insert themselves.
The two clearly knew each other well, exchanging short conversations about places, people, and events Arbor had never heard of. Each reference passed over them like wind.
They tried making a few jokes, the kind Freya usually tolerated or batted back with sarcasm.
None landed.
One got a polite nod from Eva.
Another made Alek raise a single brow like he wasn't sure if it was a joke.
The third joke led into an awkward silence.
So Arbor just stopped trying.
They let their ears droop dramatically.
They'd been walking for about half an hour now, and the novelty of "new team" was wearing thin.
"I'm getting a little tired," Arbor muttered. "Can we take a break?"
Alek didn't even glance back.
"Not yet. You heard Freya—we're to head straight to the training grounds."
Arbor sighed. "Yeah, but... I'm really tired. Like, dangerously tired. Like, I could collapse dramatically into the grass kind of tired."
Eva glanced back briefly, lips twitching like she was trying not to smile.
Alek finally turned around.
"Discipline is part of the training," he said. "We have to stay consistent."
"This feels like oppression," Arbor sighed dramatically, flopping backward like the trail itself had betrayed them.
Alek stopped dead in his tracks and turned, his brows drawn low.
"What would you know about that, fox?" he snapped.
Arbor blinked. "Fox?"
Alek took a sharp breath, clearly done holding back.
"From what I've seen, you're either too cocky or too stupid to care about what we actually signed up for."
His voice rose, heated.
"I don't know how in the world you made it this far, but I'm not letting your attitude ruin this. You think just because you skipped the tests, you get to slack off? This is important."
Arbor blinked at him, stunned. Tests? Ego? Slack?
What was this guy even talking about?
"I've been doing this crap for two years," they snapped. "I didn't exactly ask for any of this. Freya just threw me into it."
Their hands flailed slightly. "And I wasn't slacking—I just wanted a break. Chill out."
Alek's mouth opened, about to fire back—but Eva cut in.
"Quiet, you two," she said flatly, rubbing her temples.
She muttered under her breath, "Guess I know what Freya meant now…"
Then she raised her voice just enough to cut through the tension.
"Look. We don't need to be fighting over something this dumb. We haven't even made it to the training grounds yet."
Her gaze flicked to Alek. "And you've been acting super weird lately."
Then to Arbor. "And you can walk. You're Atherian. Your stamina's naturally higher than most people's. If anyone should be complaining, it's Alek—the elf in the group."
Alek looked away, muttering something unintelligible.
Eva clapped her hands once. "Okay. Argument solved. Let's get moving so we don't have to sit around in these cursed woods any longer than necessary."
Arbor sighed, ears drooping. "Okay… I guess."
As they started walking again, Arbor glanced sideways at Eva.
Yeah, they thought. She definitely gives off Freya energy.
That was exactly the kind of shut-down logic Freya would throw out mid-argument.
Well, Arbor decided, at least one of them seems alright.
The other one?
Still really annoying.
—-------------------------
They walked for a while in silence.
Not awkward—just quiet. The kind that let the wind whisper through the trees and the moss muffle their steps. Alek had gone up ahead a few paces, silent but still brooding, his jaw tight and shoulders a little too straight.
Arbor kept their distance, flicking small stones along the path with the toe of their foot, ears low but alert.
Then Eva slowed down to where Arbor was.
Eva's voice was calm, "Sorry about him."
Arbor glanced over.
Eva didn't look at them. Her gaze stayed forward, one hand loosely gripping her sleeve as she walked.
"He's not usually like that. Just… the whole team thing is getting to him, I think."
Arbor shrugged. "I guess."
A beat passed.
Eva glanced sideways now, a small smile on her lips.
"You did kind of say something about 'oppression' after twenty minutes of walking."
Arbor huffed. "I was tired."
"I believe you," she said, grinning. Her eyes turned pink. Why did it do that?
"But maybe next time… choose less dramatic words?"
Arbor rubbed the back of their neck. "It felt dramatic."
Eva gave a quiet chuckle.
They walked a few more steps.
Then Eva added, softer this time, "I meant it, though. He really is a good person. He's just got a lot going on."
Arbor didn't respond right away.
They thought about the stiff posture, the rambling speech, the weird high-five thing.
"…I'll keep that in mind," they said at last.
Another quiet stretch.
Then Eva asked, "But you, uh… are you okay?
Arbor stared for a bit. Okay?
"With all this?"
Arbor hesitated.
"I don't really know," they admitted. "It's just… a lot, as you said."
"Yeah," Eva said. "It is."
They kept walking side by side, the path beginning to open into the familiar curve leading toward the training grounds.
And for the first time since the day started, Arbor felt… a little more like this whole thing might not be a total disaster.