Alek stirred awake, groggy and confused.

The world felt distant, like they were at the bottom of a deep well, sounds echoing far above. Their eyes blinked slowly, vision swimming with soft greens and browns. Their head throbbed.

“What… happened?” they muttered. They sat up slowly, rubbing the back of their head, feeling their long green unkept hair sticking in all directions.

“Oh, good afternoon, Alek,” Eva’s calm. She leaned forward slightly, her eyes glowing faintly pink. Too calm. Alek hated when Eva tried to read them.

“It seems like you tried to kill Arbor earlier, and I had to stop you by putting you to sleep.”

Alek’s entire body froze.

“I did what?!” Their eyes shot open, suddenly flashes of blurred memory clawed at the edges of their mind. They rubbed their temples, eyebrows knitting together. Fighting. Yes, they remembered that much. But the rest…

"I remember fighting, but… I wasn’t trying to kill them. A test of sorts." Their brow furrowed deeper. Their head felt like it was wrapped in fog. "Why can’t I remember?"

The weight of someone else's aura pressed down on them. They didn’t need to look up to know who it was.

“It’s the weapon,” Freya’s voice came from above. Sharp. Direct. The kind of tone that didn’t leave room for argument.

Alek's heart jumped. They quickly sat up straighter. It was one of the greatest elite legion members in history and Alek wasn’t going to show them disrespect, especially after this fuck up.

“Captain Freya!” Alek blurted, trying to sound more composed than they felt. They shot her a grin that felt far too forced. “It’s great to see you’re done with your business.”

They felt something shift — a tingle in their chest. Their eyes flicked downward and saw the subtle change in their hands. Their fingers were smaller. Softer. Their chest bigger.

Alek froze feeling sick. Waze’s of embarrassment and degust washed over them.

"Oh no."

POOF!

A burst of green smoke engulfed them for half a second, swirling with faint traces of purple. When it cleared, Alek sat exactly where he was, except now his jaw was clenched, his hair was shorter, and his build more square. His cheeks were flushed red as he avoided eye contact with everyone.

Arbor, who’d been nursing their cheek, glanced at Eva. Eva shook her head at arbor.

“Was that—?” Arbor started.

“Moving on,” Freya said, eyes narrowed with laser focus. Her tone didn’t leave room for follow-ups. She stepped forward, gaze locked on Alek.

“About that weapon. Where did you get it?” she asked, her voice sharp but measured. “I need to see it.”

Alek’s heart skipped. This was not how he expected today to go.

He glanced at his hands, still feeling that faint buzz of energy pulsing under his skin. The memory of the scythe flashed in his mind — the weight of it, the swing of it, the rush of power that followed. His fingers flexed like he was holding it again, and then a craving set in they needed to hold it again.

“I’m a bit confused,” he muttered, rubbing the back of his head. A bit embarrassed to say the next part, “Why do you need my weapon? I received it from a distant relative… as a birthday gift.”

Arbor’s ears flicked. Their grin was immediate.

“So someone gave you a farming tool for your birthday, and you decided to beat me up with it?” they said, grinning wide despite their swollen cheek.

Alek’s face flushed with irritation. His hands curled into fists. His gaze snapped toward Arbor, eyes sharp as broken glass.

“No!” he snapped with more conference now. “This weapon has a long history of battle. I was told it would give me the edge I needed in combat.”

Eva glanced toward Arbor, her eyes narrowing just a bit.

“Arbor,” she said softly. "Remember what you said earlier?"

Arbor raised their hands in mock surrender, rolling their eyes like an ill-mannered child caught mid-prank.

“Geez, my bad, Alek.”

“Regardless,” Freya said, cutting in before they could spiral into another argument. She stepped closer to Alek, hands on her hips. Her gaze was firm but not unkind. “I need you to stop using that weapon and dispose of it. It’s far too dangerous.”

Alek frowned, glancing at his palm. “Alright, fine. I’ll just get it.”

He raised his hand, palm upward, and focused. The air shimmered faintly, a ripple of magic. The gate should’ve opened. The weapon should’ve dropped in. But… nothing.

His heart skipped. He tried again. Still, nothing.

His chest tightened, confusion flickering into fear.

“That’s weird. My gate won’t open.”

Freya’s face went still. Her eyes flicked toward his hand, her sharp gaze narrowing. Her lips pressed into a thin, grim line.

“Oh.” She tilted her head slightly, her gaze sharper than before. “You really shouldn’t have stored it like that.”

Freya crouched and drew a quick sketch on the ground with a single spark of lightning from her finger. The simple outline looked like a portal gate, a few objects floating inside being held up by sparks, with one object glowing ominously black and red.

“Here’s the short version,” Freya said, her voice low but deliberate. "Your gate is a portal to your soul. Normally, you store items in it — objects, not living things.”

The sketch shifted. Freya tapped the glowing red object. It pulsed, flashing erratically.

“But you put a corrupted item in there.” Her eyes shifted to Alek. “Now it’s bonded to your soul.”

“Not being able to open it is a bad sign.” She glanced at Eva, her eyes scanning the girl carefully. “For people like me, Arbor, or Eva — made of soul magic — this would be catastrophic. But you should be mostly fine since you’re an elf, your life isn’t fully tied to soul magic. You have all those squishy organs keeping you moving.”

Alek looked a bit confused. 

Freya sighed talking as if you had an infant in front of her, ”Atherian’s bodies are run completely by our souls, physical damage can hurt but can't kill us. Meanwhile, humans and other nonmagical creatures can take damage to their souls and be relatively fine (with some, but most definitely will not survive a blow to the heart or something. You and the elfs on the other hand can take a lot of damage to both before dying not saying you are immorta-” 

Freya's light-hearted tone shifts when thinking about the elf the legion lost. ”Yeah just don't do something stupid”

Eva tilted her head. Her eyes glowed pink. She gazed at Alek, scanning him like one might peer into a crystal ball. Her eyes narrowed.

“Weird…” she muttered, gaze sharp.

“What?” Alek asked, his anxiety rising.

“Your soul’s bigger than before,” she said, voice distant. “But it’s got this… red tint. Not normal.” Her eyes flicked toward Jorma, Freya, and Arbor for comparison. Jorma’s was pretty big deep purple. Arbor’s was faint caramel, barely noticeable due to something blocking her scan.

But Alek’s?

Bright green, with flickers of red twisting through it similar to Freya’s soul, a huge mix of swirling colors.

Freya stood, brushing her hands off. “Basically, don’t open your gate. Until we find someone able to unbind it. Plus you dont use magic that anyways.” She placed a firm hand on Arbor’s shoulder. Arbor tensed instantly.

Her grin was far too sharp.

“Oh, by the way, you have a meeting with Atheria tomorrow.”

Arbor froze. Their eyes widened.

“A meeting with the goddess?!” they gasped. “This is about the staff, isn’t it?!” Their hands flew to their head. “She’s going to punish me, isn’t she?!”

Freya’s grin turned wolfish. She patted Arbor's head like one might a troublesome child.

“No, it’s unrelated. But your next training session? That’ll be painful.”

“I hate everything,” Arbor muttered, staring at the sky.

Alek crossed his arms, scowling.

“They get to meet the goddess? They don’t even deserve that.”

Arbor sighed. “Give it a rest.”

"Please don't let her be mad," they thought, heart pounding. "Please."

Eva’s ears twitched, her eyes narrowing slightly.

“Wait.” Her gaze flicked to her feet.

Her eyes turned faintly pink.

A ripple. A shift. The air went from cool to just a little colder. Her pink eyes snapped to the edge of her shadow — and saw it move.

Too late.

SPLASH!

Her face was hit with a cold spray of water. It dripped down her face in uneven trails, soaking her horns, her nose, and her entire mood.

“Grrr.” Eva wiped her face with her sleeve, blinking slowly, her eyes now dimmed green fixed on the source.

Jorma.

He stood there with that smug grin, arms folded, leaning lazily against one of the arena's railings. His yellow eyes practically glowed with mischief.

“Eva, honestly, your powers are a real pain,” Jorma said, shaking his head with mock disappointment. His voice had that too-casual, too-relaxed tone that made Eva’s teeth clench. “You seriously need to learn control. I can’t keep getting knocked out every time you get startled.”

Her patience snapped.

“Maybe if you stopped appearing out of nowhere, I wouldn’t be so jumpy around you!” she shot back, pointing a sharp clawed finger at him. “You were only twenty feet away! You could’ve walked! WALKED, Jorma! Like a normal person! You have legs, I know you do!”

“Yeah, but why walk when you can teleport?” Jorma said with a grin, casually brushing an invisible speck of dust off his shoulder.

Eva opened her mouth to retort, but her eyes flicked to the bleachers behind her.

There was another Jorma.

He was lying face-first on the bleacher, completely still. Her eyes squinted with confusion. Her pink glow intensified.

“What?” Her gaze darted between the two Jormas.

The "sleeping Jorma" on the bleachers melted into a pool of shadow that rippled and flowed like water. The black tendrils slithered across the ground before sliding up into Jorma’s body, melding back into him like it had never left. He didn’t even look fazed.

“Shadow walk, Eva,” he said, tapping the side of his head like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “It’s literally my thing. Also, for reasons like this, I like to keep a couple of copies around.”

Arbor whispered from Alek’s side.

“Is this a family reunion or something?” they muttered, leaning closer to Alek with a look of tired confusion. Their cheek was still swollen from Freya’s earlier "lesson," and they rubbed it idly.

“I have no idea,” Alek muttered back, his brows furrowed with mild exhaustion. His eyes flicked toward the faint outline of Jorma’s remaining shadow behind the bleachers. “Today’s been... fuzzy.”

Eva sighed, still wiping water from her horns as she walked toward Alek and Arbor. Her eyes stayed on Jorma, a pink glow slowly fading as her patience returned.

“This is my brother, Jorma,” she muttered, not looking at him as she spoke. Her tone was flat but not without warmth. “He’s part of the Elite Legion, like Freya.”

Her gaze flicked toward Jorma, eyes half-lidded with quiet judgment.

“Unlike Freya, he has a knack for showing up at the worst times.” Her ears twitched. “Then disappearing for years afterward.”

Jorma smirked, his arms still folded as he straightened up like he was being introduced as a king at court.

“Well, the goddess sends me on important assignments. Can’t help it if my work takes me away,” he said, brushing at his coat like he’d just returned from a grand adventure.

Eva snorted softly. “Right. Like charming every woman in sight. Such critical work.”

“That’s enough.”

The familiar weight of Freya’s authority pressed down on them all like a shift in air pressure. She stepped forward, horns tilted forward, eyes steady. Everyone knew that tone.

“The time we were supposed to spend training has been wasted, so everyone can go back to what they were doing.” Her eyes flicked to Jorma, sharp and direct. “Jorma, sorry for dragging you here, but I’ll need your help tomorrow.”

Jorma raised a brow, his grin never fading. “Fine. You said it was urgent, so I came. Plus, I got to see my two favorite siblings.”

Eva's ears flicked back. “We’re your only siblings.”

Jorma tilted his head, hands spread wide in mock revelation. “Exactly! Which makes my statement even more true.”

Freya let out a heavy sigh, one hand pressing against her temple.

“Anyway, I need you to watch over these two tomorrow while I take Arbor to Atheria.” Her eyes flicked toward Eva and Alek. “It’s not that they need a babysitter or anything, but I think you could teach them a thing or two.”

Alek’s eyes lit up like he’d just been handed a sword of legend. Pure, unfiltered determination.

“It would be an honor to train under you, sir!” he said, his back straight, eyes full of that signature "I must prove myself" energy.

Eva tilted her head slowly, side-eying Alek like he’d just sprouted a second head.

“You’re such a weirdo,” she muttered, her lips curling into a faint smirk.

Jorma's eyes flicked toward Eva, then back to Alek. He grinned wide, leaning his elbow on the railing.

“Weirdo? Says the one who puts people to sleep with her eyeballs.” He raised a hand lazily, like he was giving a half-hearted pledge. “But fine. I’ll see if I can scrounge up some replacement blades for you, Alek.”

Alek’s eyes widened.

“Thank you, sir!” he said, his voice cracking with excitement.

“Yeah, yeah, don’t get all weepy on me.” Jorma waved it off, his body already shifting toward the shadows. “Anyway, I’ve got things to do. Be ready tomorrow, you two. I’ll know where to find you, so just meet up before sunrise.”

His body shifted, shadows curling around his feet, stretching toward his hands like vines.

“FOOSH.”

Jorma was gone. Just like that.