Arlenna had never met anyone like Solace. Where most people saw the world in rules and boundaries, Solace saw possibility. It was strange at first unsettling even how easily Solace could find beauty in chaos or humor in danger. But somewhere between the laughter and the fights, Arlenna realized Solace gave her something she hadn't felt: home.
Solace noticed the quiet things how Arlenna tensed when crowds stared at her scars, how her eyes always stayed on the exits. She never tried to fix her, just adjusted the world a little to make space for her. When Solace teased, it wasn't cruel. When she protected her, it wasn't pity.
Around Solace, Arlenna could finally breathe. The girl who had been raised to fight and obey started to smile more, laugh louder, even take risks. Solace brought out the adventurous side she never got to explore the one buried under her family's expectations.
And in return, Arlenna kept Solace steady but never by holding her down. She paid attention to the little things that others missed: how loud crowds made her tense, how she hated the feeling of rough fabric or the taste of soft food or turned away from the heavy scent of smoke or perfume. The smell of meat cooking made her stomach twist, and strong spices could send her searching for clean air. Arlenna never asked why, she just adapted. She'd guide them toward calmer markets, find stalls that sold dried fruit, or quietly pass Solace her earmuffs before entering busy streets.
At night, she always made sure Solace's weighted blanket was packed.It had become part of their rhythm Solace couldn't sleep without it, and Arlenna never forgot it. During the day, if Solace needed to run errands alone, Arlenna handed her a carefully written list: what they needed, which path to take, which stalls to stop at.
"Did you get the fruit?" Arlenna would ask when she returned.
Solace would pause mid-step, eyes widening. "...I'll be right back."
Arlenna only smiled, shaking her head. "I've got you."
She didn't see Solace's differences as something to fix just parts of her to understand. And Solace noticed, even if she rarely said it. Arlenna's care wasn't loud; it lived in every small act of patience, in every gentle reminder that she was never alone.
Sometimes, when they rested by the fire, Solace would trace the scars across Arlenna's arms and cheeks, following their patterns like constellations. She never asked how they happened, she just said she liked them. "Everyone's supposed to look different," she'd say softly. "Otherwise the world would be boring."
Arlenna never quite knew how to answer that. But in those moments, when Solace looked at her like she wasn't something broken, just different, she almost believed it.
They were crossing through a crowded market once, the noise sharp and close. Arlenna kept her hood low, scars catching glances she pretended not to notice. A merchant's voice cut through the air, mocking something about "the scarred one" and her "pretty shadow."
Before Arlenna could react, Solace stepped forward, standing between her and the man. Her voice was calm, but her stare was sharp enough to cut.
"You should watch how you talk," she said simply. "She's worth ten of you."
The crowd went still for a breath. The merchant mumbled something and turned away. Arlenna blinked, caught off guard.
Later, when they were clear of the noise, Solace just shrugged. "I don't like when people look at you like that," she said. "They only see what's on your face, not what's behind it."
Arlenna didn't say anything right away, just looked at her, this strange, earnest girl who noticed everything that mattered. Then, quietly, she smiled.
"Guess you've got me too, huh?"
Solace grinned. "Always."
It happened once in a busy port town where some soldier thought he was clever, tossing a comment about Arlenna's scars loud enough for the crowd to hear.
Solace froze for half a second, then burst out laughing. Loud, over-the-top, clutching-her-stomach kind of laughing. Arlenna blinked, halfway between confusion and hurt, watching her friend double over in amusement.
"Solace—?" she started.
But Solace straightened, grin fading to something razor-sharp. "Say that again," she said sweetly.
The man smirked, ready to repeat himself and didn't even finish the sentence before Solace lunged.
One heartbeat later, both her hands were around his throat. The crowd gasped; the man choked out a sound that wasn't quite a word. Arlenna barely had time to react, eyes wide as Solace held him there, calm face twisted into something furious.
"Solace! Solace, let him go—" Arlenna gasped, trying to pry her off. But the harder she pulled, the harder she laughed. She couldn't help it. She was shaking from laughter, half from disbelief, half from joy.
By the time Solace finally released the man, sputtering curses and stumbling back, Arlenna was doubled over, tears in her eyes from laughing.
"That wasn't funny," Solace muttered, still fuming.
Arlenna wiped her face, grinning wide. "Oh, it was. Trust me."
That was the moment Arlenna realized Solace really got her. She didn't just understand her pain; she defended it with fire. After that, insults didn't bother Arlenna anymore. If anything, they started bothering Solace more and no matter how serious the fight, Arlenna could never stop laughing while trying to pull her off someone.
The woods were alive with sunlight and laughter. Solace twirled between the trees, her mustard-yellow sweatshirt swinging, baggy cargo pants brushing against leaves, hair catching glints of sun. Arlenna followed, stepping in rhythm beside her, and for a moment, it felt like the world had shrunk to just them.
"Look, Arlenna! I can almost touch the clouds!" Solace spun, arms wide, and Arlenna couldn't help but grin, matching her steps, letting herself be pulled into Solace's carefree dance.
They laughed, weaving between the trunks, watching squirrels scamper and petals float lazily on the wind. The sound of their mirth mingled with birdsong: simple, light, perfect.
Then Solace froze. Trees ahead toppled, crashing to the ground with a thunderous roar. Dust and bark exploded into the air, and from the corner of her eye, she saw the glint of metal slicing through the sunlight a massive sword barreling toward them, edge first.
Instinct kicked in. Solace planted her feet, digging into the forest floor, arms raised to meet the incoming blade. She focused, making herself heavier in her legs and tightening her core, bracing every muscle for the impact.
When the massive sword struck, a sharp shockwave jolted through her body, rattling her ribs, but she held firm for a heartbeat. The force made the surrounding trees quiver, dust and leaves scattering into the air. Then, before she could react further, the blade shrank, and a bo staff slammed into her side. Pain shot through her torso as she went flying, landing hard among a thicket of trees.
Arlenna's blade clashed against the stranger's with a sharp ringing sound. Solace scrambled to her feet, wiping dirt from her pants, and felt the familiar surge of adrenaline. Without a word, she switched positions with Arlenna, taking the front.
The man's eyes gleamed, and with a flick of his wrist, another sword materialized in his hand. He lunged, aiming straight for Solace but she met him head-on. Her fist connected with a sickening crack, shattering the blade mid-swing. The shards clattered harmlessly to the forest floor.
She didn't hesitate. Planting her feet firmly, lowering her stance, she lunged forward, aiming a powerful punch directly at his chest. He reacted just in time, pulling out yet another weapon to block her strike. The force of the collision sent him flying through branches and underbrush. He didn't return immediately, vanishing into the forest like a shadow.
Solace straightened, brushing leaves from her shoulders. "He's gone... for now," she muttered, chest heaving, a mix of exhilaration and irritation lighting her expression.
The next day, he appeared again but this time, he didn't attack. He stood a short distance away, simply observing, his posture casual but his gaze sharp.
Solace groaned audibly. "Not this guy again," she said, cracking her knuckles. She started walking toward him, each step deliberate, eyes narrowed with playful challenge.
Arlenna stepped in front of her, raising a hand. "I got this," she said smoothly.
Solace smirked. "Cool," she replied, leaping onto a nearby tree branch to get a better vantage point. From there, she watched, perched and ready, a grin tugging at her lips
Day after day, he returned, emerging from the trees like clockwork to challenge Arlenna. She never turned him away, never lowered her blade.
Solace perched nearby, legs crossed, absorbing every movement, every shift of weight. She asked questions between exchanges about the timing of his strikes, the way his weapons seemed to change in size or shape, and how Arlenna adjusted her stance so quickly.
Neither of them minded her curiosity. It became routine, a strange rhythm threading through their days.
Finally, after a brief pause in the action, Solace called out, "Hey wait. What's your name?"
The swordsman gave a slow blink and a small smirk but said nothing, letting the tension hang in the air.
Solace frowned, tilting her head. "Come on, you can tell me. Why are you even doing this?"
Arlenna's grip on her blade didn't waver, but she glanced at Solace and murmured, "Careful he's testing us."
The swordsman made a sudden feint, drawing Solace's attention back to the fight. But before the next strike, he finally answered in a clipped tone. "I'm after your sword," he said, eyes locked on Arlenna.
Solace blinked. "Your sword? Why?"
He shifted, a smirk playing at his lips. "I've heard the rumors. That you carry an unbreakable blade. I want it. That's all."
Solace's eyes widened, and she exchanged a glance with Arlenna, who stayed calm, blade ready, as if she'd expected this.
Solace exhaled, a mixture of disbelief and amusement bubbling up. "And you thought you could just... take it?"
He raised his weapon, signaling the next exchange. "I'll try," he said simply.
Solace smirked, leaning forward slightly. "Alright, then. Let's see what you've got."
Every time he thought he'd found an opening, Arlenna shifted. Sometimes she switched sword hands mid-strike, other times she reached toward an empty side as if she'd forgotten which hand held her blade. It wasn't a trick; she genuinely lost track in the heat of the fight.
The Weapon shifter blinked at her unpredictability, expecting an easy strike, only to find her blade ready in the other hand. A laugh escaped him, sharp and incredulous. "The Forgetful Swordswoman, huh? That's... perfect," he muttered, shaking his head.
The comment stuck. After that, Arlenna decided to train with both hands, drawing a second sword so that no matter which side she reached for, a blade would always be there. Her movements became fluid, ambidextrous, and entirely her own unpredictable rhythm that frustrated Thiago endlessly and earned him laughter in the middle of combat.
Solace watched, fascinated. She noticed how the quirk, once a simple habit, had evolved into a defining part of Arlenna's style. Each swing, each feint, and each sudden switch revealed a fighter who embraced her flaws and turned them into strength, leaving The Shifter both exasperated and impressed.
By the time The Shifter finally stopped "attacking" them, no one could pinpoint the exact moment the fights shifted from hostile challenges to something more like sparring or when the line between rivals and crew blurred.
He finally lowered his weapon, a crooked, almost mischievous smirk spreading across his face, the kind that said he'd enjoyed every frustrating second of the fight and wasn't done enjoying it yet. "Name's Thiago," he said, voice casual but edged with the same confidence that had kept Arlenna on her toes all this time.
Solace watched him closely, noticing how his eyes lingered on her quirks, the way she adjusted her sleeves mid-motion, how she paused to shift her footing just so, and the subtle ways she made sure the world around her worked for her. He didn't laugh or mock; he simply observed, intrigued and unflustered.
Thiago's grin widened slightly when he caught her looking. "You're... different," he said, tilting his head. Not a bad different, just... interesting.
Solace blinked, unsure how to respond. No one had ever noticed her little habits before, not really. And Arlenna, catching the exchange, let out a soft laugh, elbowing Solace lightly. "See? Even this idiot notices you."
From that moment, a new rhythm settled between the three of them. Fights still happened, mock fights, sparring matches, teasing challenges but now there was laughter, respect, and a quiet acknowledgment of each other's differences. Thiago had joined them, not just as a fighter, but as someone who could keep up with Arlenna's skills and appreciate Solace's unique way of seeing the world.
The late afternoon sun spilled through the trees, painting the forest floor in streaks of gold. Solace balanced atop a moss-covered boulder, legs swinging lazily, watching the two others move around her. Arlenna checked her blade, adjusting her stance as if expecting trouble at any moment. Thiago was playing with his weapons, the familiar shimmer of shifting steel catching the light as he twirled a dagger between his fingers.
Solace grinned. "You know... we're kind of ridiculous."
Arlenna glanced up, one brow raised. "How so?"
Solace hopped down, landing lightly on the ground. "Look at us! Me, you, and Mr. Weapon-Shifter over there running around forests, getting chased by guards, fighting people who think they can steal your sword, Arlenna..." She threw her hands up. "We're basically our own little... chaotic squad."
Thiago tilted his head, balancing the dagger in his palm. "A trio of chaos, you mean?"
"Exactly," Solace said, smirking. "But seriously, I've been thinking." She paced a little, gesturing with animated hands. "We've been together for weeks now watching each other's backs, sparring, laughing, and getting into trouble. Why don't we make it official?"
Arlenna stopped cleaning her blade, looking at her curiously. "Official?"
"Yes," Solace said, planting her fists on her hips. "I'm talking rules, name, purpose... all of it. We're a crew, not just random strangers who happen to fight well together."
Thiago arched an eyebrow, letting the dagger vanish into thin air. "And what exactly does this 'crew' do?"
"Everything!" Solace said, eyes sparkling. "Fight, explore, protect each other, pull off the impossible. Be unstoppable. You two already have my back when it counts, so it's about time we called it what it is."
Arlenna smirked, sheathing her blade. "You're really making this sound like a proper declaration, huh?"
"I am serious!" Solace said, crouching down between them and pointing a finger at each. "Arlenna, Thiago I officially declare us the Pinnacle Crew! Our name, our rules, our way of doing things. No one gets left behind, no one holds back, and no one tries to steal Arlenna's sword Thiago, I'm looking at you!"
Thiago blinked, then laughed a low, amused sound. "The Pinnacle Crew, huh? Not bad... but don't expect me to follow any silly rules about clean fighting."
Arlenna rolled her eyes but couldn't hide the small smile tugging at her lips. "Fine. I'm in. But only because I trust you not to get us all killed," she said, glancing at Solace.
"Trust me," Solace said, fists pumping once in the air. "This is just the beginning. We're going to be legends or at least survive long enough to make some stories worth telling."
Thiago's grin widened. "Alright, I'm curious. Let's see how long your 'legendary crew' lasts before one of us gets roasted alive by guards or forest monsters."
"Challenge accepted," Solace said, pointing at him. "And don't forget you're part of this crew, so we share the danger equally. That means you don't bail when it gets tricky."
Arlenna laughed softly, shaking her head. "This is ridiculous. And somehow, I like it."
Solace's grin was unstoppable now. "Good. That's the spirit. Now, let's test our new crew status." She leapt onto a fallen log and twirled, arms spread wide. "We'll fight, we'll explore, and we'll make sure the world remembers the name 'Pinnacle Crew'!"
Thiago made a mock groan. "Do we have to fight first?"
"Always," Arlenna said, drawing her blade with a flourish. "It's tradition."
Solace laughed, spinning to face Thiago. "Good. Then let's start this crew off with style!"
And with that, the forest rang with the clash of steel, laughter, and the unmistakable sense of a team officially born. They fought, dodged, and sparred, each move a statement: this was no longer just about survival, training, or rivalry. It was about trust, respect, and the unspoken bond that made them more than individuals; they were a crew.
By the time the sun dipped below the horizon, leaving streaks of pink and orange in the sky, they collapsed side by side on the mossy ground. Solace stretched out, arms behind her head, grinning at the clouds above.
"See?" she said. "Already legends in the making."
Arlenna smirked, leaning on her blade. "We'll see how long your optimism lasts."
Thiago, lying flat with arms crossed behind his head, chuckled softly. "For now, I'm... intrigued. Let's see how this crew thing works."
Solace sat up, eyes shining. "Oh, it's going to work. You'll see. The Pinnacle Crew is unstoppable."
And somewhere in the forest, the wind seemed to echo their laughter, carrying the first whispers of the crew's story through the trees.