With the drab domain the mercenaries tenanted behind, Isla breathed crisp, refreshing air. Her sister waited with a scowl twisting her face.

"He walked all over you," Isla voiced, stashing her inquiries of their prior confrontations.

"He loves money. The only thing he trusts. Odd in this line of business when you trust your back to comrades, but who am I to judge. Still, it doesn't make him any less than a curse." Layla sighed and furrowed her brow. "Just be careful. Varnis shouldn't be a problem, but I can't say the same for his men. There's one that could be a handful."

"It's fine. I can always off him before he attacks."

Layla laughed, smiling wide and bright. "I'm glad. They'll still be useful. Worse case, they can block an attack or two. Use them as a shield."

"Should a close companion to the Queen be speaking such hypotheticals?" Isla teased. "You could get yourself in trouble being an oh-so dangerous God."

"Like that old woman would care."

"You'll make our mother upset with such slander to your benefactor."

"Oh no!" Layla slapped her forehead. "I'm a terrible daughter."

Isla snorted. "So who's the problem child I need to watch out for?"

She tapped her chin. "I don't recall his name, but you'll know once he talks. He'll be that one guy who whines the loudest. Most Arcadians will straight up ignore our kind, he's a special case."

"I take it most don't want to risk angering us."

"Exactly. Even if we're the farthest thing from your stereotypical God. The fear still exists."

Isla watched the crowd swarm past, the colors mixed, convoluting her vision. "I don't blame them."

"I'm afraid I don't have much experience with others. I've heard the stories though," she murmured. Layla clapped her hands then rubbed them together. "No more depressing talks. Let's go. I have another place to bring you."

Isla crossed her arms, narrowing her gaze. "Where?"

"It wouldn't be fun if I told you."

"I don't care."

Layla sighed. "Food, okay? Or will you run away again?"

"If you'll stop bothering me afterward, we'll have a deal."

She shrugged, displacing the emotional blow. "We'll see." Layla entered the streaming crowd. She skirted the center, weaving around extruded storefronts.

Isla glanced overhead and groaned. She smothered the impulse to escape, instead, circumventing obstacles a measure behind her sister.

They turned left, traversing a spacious side street. Isla lengthed her stride, joining Layla's pace and resumed their talk. "What do you know about the forest?"

Layla glanced at her. "Did you come through the nearest movement sphere?"

"Yeah. You're referring to the unnatural forest on the way here?"

"That's the one." She nodded and continued. "A dreadful place. I made the mistake of entering the place alone my first time. When I say this, I don't mean a normal life, but the forest is alive. The place has a conscious of its own."

"In what way?"

"The forest has a merged aura. Because of that, several protective measures are spread throughout: barriers, miasma, you name it. Intruders are broadcasted to the forest's inhabitants. They'll know you're there and they will hunt you."

"Sounds fun."

Layla laughed. "You find uncertain danger charming?"

"More so than dealing with people. I take it the miasma is the problem for solo play?"

"Spoken like a true adventurer. Yes, veterans of the forest have learned the gateway locations between the barriers. One spot is weaker than the rest."

"Does the miasma impact our magic?"

"No, but it makes certain magic unusable like tracking and location spells. From what Varnis' crew has said, the forest moves. In a week, the transition points between barriers will change."

"The forest is protecting the mountain," Isla stated.

The wind shifted Layla's hair, suspending the strands. She bound the fleeing lock behind her ear. "My guess, Arcadia's guardian spirit created the forest. An assumption, but the only one I can muster."

A living, breathing forest; the concept fascinated her. From natural labyrinths formed by a colossal volcano to crystalized caverns frozen in time, she'd witnessed her share of extremes. Each adventure presented a new challenge brimming with unknowns. Did Nirvana speculate this enjoyment? No, she couldn't have, but Rydin would have voiced enthusiasm.

Isla smiled, her memory conceiving his passionate gaze and the thousands of questions generated from her quest. He would exhibit twofold the emotions, his and hers combined.

"Isla?" Layla questioned, smashing her illusion. "What is it?"

"What?" Isla snapped.

"You were smiling."

Isla glared. "No. I wasn't. Are we there yet?"

Layla halted and puffed her cheeks. "Yes." She pointed upward at a wooden plaque.

The smooth edges ringed blooming flowers and delicate spirals. The lopsided circles affixed into a nameplate—Alpesa. This centerpiece connected the white walls trimmed with pale blue and a dark blue over top. Thin unsmudged glass provided windows into a captivating wonderland of sweets.

The chime dinged and the sweet smell of desserts filled her nostrils as they entered. Isla halted, entranced by the aroma. Her eyelids fluttered wide-open and she scanned the shop. Besides two patrons reading books and seated alone, the place was empty.

She wasted no time scrutinizing the people, instead, her gaze drifted towards the display case. A rumble escaped her stomach as she eyed the variety of sugar brimming treats.

"Hungry are we?" she laughed. "And you didn't want to come. Imagine if you ran away. All this wonder would have been lost."

"Are you done acting?"

Her brow wrinkled. "What do you mean?"

Her sister believed time hadn't changed. She still lived in the past. Layla's memory dwelled upon a fantasy crafted youth. Isla no longer danced upon her palm like a puppet swinging to her whims. She was a stranger.

Her eyes glinted, pivoting she grasped the door handle.

"Wait! I'm sorry, Isla. Please don't leave," she panicked, her pitch rising. "I'll grab us something to eat. Come on, please."

Releasing the door handle, she strode past Layla and ignored the wide-eyed stares observing their quarrel. Her back eased against a corner chair. The view provided a clear vantage point of the entrance and her sister. Layla crouched, picking the sweets and directing the shopkeeper.

Her mind drifted and her hands clenched.

She tried to repair their broken bonds. Only a fool wouldn't notice the obvious. Still, the kinks existing could never be ironed with a single conversation.

She intruded on her quest. Delivered the truth when fitting. Don't forget the complications of her youth. Ah, and withheld the possibility to change fate.

When she disclosed Rein and Rydin's fate, her initial reaction had been an emotional swamp. How could she digest her explanation when she hadn't finished acceptance? Wouldn't anyone have kicked and screamed?

Did she blame them? Not exactly. They were inconsequential.

Their existence and voices evoked neither trust nor truth. She agreed, their warnings fell on deaf ears. Fault laid within herself.

If she ignored the external factors tugging and pulling her decisions, and came clean, their bond could never be repaired. Even now, she watched her sister interact with strangers. The honest smile encompassing her face lured passersby. Layla had a natural vibrancy, shining and enthralling the unlikeliest of souls. Her similarity to Rein appropriate. Or was this backwards?

She shook her head, this thinking sounded repetitive.

The same thoughts lead to death and betrayal, a conclusion that forged a ravine between them. Her sister lived in the light.

How stupid could she be? Each time she reached for the light, her trails of darkness devoured the stars.

She propped her elbow and rested her chin. The callous riddled rough hands a reminder. There was no light in her life.

How could she make the same mistake again?

Layla sauntered to her carrying a metal tray with twisting sides for handles. She placed down the tray combined with tea and cakes.

One cake a full double-layered chocolate surprise. Rich frosting connected the two slabs of cake and dotted the top. Strawberry halves were arranged to replicate a flower decoration. Chocolate shavings stuck to the side as the final touch.

The other, a slice of banana cake with rich cream cheese frosting holding the slices together. The outside of the slice smothered in regular whipped cream and pecans between frosting peaks. Melted white chocolate drizzled across the top covered fresh bananas.

Isla chewed her lower lip and waited. Her fingers itched, but she suppressed the urge to reach out.

"Pick whichever one you want, my treat," Layla insisted.

She hesitated but made her move towards the chocolate one. Taking the ceramic plate, she severed a piece with her fork. The first bite equated to euphoric bliss. The richness of the chocolate, but the smoothness of the frosting melded into perfect harmony. She chewed, enjoying each bite.

"Isla, about the trial," Layla voiced, circling her teacup's rim with her finger. "I don't remember much about it."

She dropped her fork, watching her sister. "What do you mean?"

"My memory is hazy. All I remember is reaching the mountain peak and entering the cave. I found myself on the steps afterwards. I only realized I failed when I tried to re-enter." Layla squeezed her eyes shut and she rubbed her brow. "Be careful, Isla. There's more to the trial than pleasing the spirit."

She mulled over the information, deciphering the confusion her explanation incited. Did this trial sabotage the memory? Or did the trial's extent lead to this weakness? Still, the outcome didn't alter her path forward. She would undergo the trial. 

A/N: A slow chapter, but the pacing will pick up in the next few chapters.