One day, as we sit in a tree house, as I carve the ancient glyphs into the wooden floor, I hear the slow rising of breath and… snoring? "Tavian, are you sleeping?"
His eyes pop open. He adjusts his position, his legs crossed in lotus. "No. No. Continue your training. Recite the primal emotions."
"But that's what we did last time. And the time before."
He raises an eyebrow. "Is it?" He shrugs. "Oh well. Maybe you practice whatever you wish today. We can resume lessons tomorrow. It's just so… so peaceful here." He leans back and falls asleep once more.
I jump and grab his shoulders, shaking him. "Tavian. Tavian wake up! We don't have time to mess around."
He mutters half-asleep. "But we do. We have all the time we need."
Something is seriously wrong. With him. With me. I shake my head, trying to clear it. We need to focus. Yami is curled around my neck in his own peaceful slumber, and I can't remember the last time he played with Baron or explored the flowers. I look around the treehouse for something to cause a racket, and then I see the glyphs. Hundreds of them, carved into the floor, the walls, a spider web of symbols. How long have I been studying the same thing over and over?
I try to wake Tavian once more to no avail, so I run out the treehouse and find Kayla by the forge. She sits next to the anvil, a blade of grass between her teeth. Her phoenix, Riku, perches on a tree branch near her, looking as dazed and sleepy as everyone else.
Kayla looks up, her eyes unfocused. "Arianna! How are you?"
"Something's wrong with Tavian. He's not waking."
She looks at me oddly. "Then let him sleep. He probably just needs rest."
I run my hands through my hair, trying to keep myself from exploding. Doesn't she see the problem? "We don't have time to sleep all day. We need to get back to Inferna."
She nods thoughtfully, but says nothing.
I sigh. "How's the armor going?"
"The armor? Oh, the armor. Yes, it's almost done. It's right over there."
I follow her gaze to the workstation. Upon it lie a few scraps of metal, some of them nailed together in odd angles. "This… this is just junk."
"Hey. Hey. That's a real work of art in the making." Kayla tries to stand, then seems to decide against it.
I walk back over to her. "Well, how much longer do you need to finish it?"
She shrugs. "A couple days maybe. I don't know. You can't rush perfection."
I frown at her, with my are-you-serious face.
She waves her hands. "Fine. Fine. I'll work on it some right now."
"Thank you."
She stands sluggishly, grabbing a hammer, and walks over to the workstation. "Now where did I leave… ah, here." She picks up a small nail, positions it on the armor with care, and hammers it in. "There! A good day's work."
"By the Spirits, what is going on?" I whisper.
Kayla walks back to the anvil and resumes her sitting. "You know, it was good seeing you. You should come back tomorrow. I should have more done by then."
I groan and storm off, searching for the one person who couldn't possibly be calm.
I find Fen sitting in the courtyard, sharpening his sword with a stone, Baron sleeping at his heel. The prince wears no shirt, his muscles rippling in the unnatural light. I try not to stare, but well, I stare. "Where's Dean. I thought the two of you were sparring?"
"We were, but then our blades grew dull. No fun that way."
"And how long have you been sharpening that sword, exactly?"
He shrugs. "It could always be sharper."
I bend down and touch my finger to the steel. "Ouch." I pull back, studying the drop of blood on my hand, and showing it to Fen. "Looks sharp enough."
"Could always be sharper."
By the Spirits, I want to smack him. "Look, Fen. Something weird is happening here. Everyone has grown lazy."
"Not you."
No. Not me. At least, not as much. Something makes me different, lets me keep track of time better. "Listen, Fen." I grab his hands, stopping his bloody sharpening, and make him face me. "I'm going back to Inferna. To free the Fae. I need you. I need you by my side."
He blinks, and something changes in his eyes. They grow darker, more focused. "War breeds war. This is not the way."
"But some battles are worth fighting."
He squeezes my hands tighter. "Come with me. Back to Earth. Let us raise our child together."
"I want to. I want to so much. But I can't, not yet. First, we need to stop the Darkness."
The focus fades then. His eyes turn dim. He pulls away, leans back and grinds the stone against his sword. "Perhaps once my blade is sharper."
My eye well with tears, and I bite down on my hand to stop myself from crying out. This place has changed him. Or perhaps… perhaps it was the month we spent apart, while I was kept prisoner on Grey Mountain. Maybe we grew distant. I don’t know what to think anymore.
I run off, looking for someone, anyone, who knows what the hell is going on. Deep in the woods, I hear him before I see him. Dean. He lies in a grove, plucking petals off a flower. "She loves me. She loves me not. She loves me—"
"Dean, I need your—" I notice the open field behind him. Thousands of petals and dead flowers cover the grass. How long have we been here?
Dean seems to notice me for the first time. "Ah, princess. Care for a roll in the hay, or the field, as it were?"