A white light shines before Arena's eyes. He uses his hands to block the light from blinding him completely. When the light dims, he finds himself standing in front of a table. On the table is a scale. One side has a pile of white sand, and on the side closest to him is a batch of red sand. Sitting across the table, tapping his finger on the oak surface and resting his head on his other hand, is Void.
Void stares with his blank face, yet Arena can feel the impatience oozing from him. Arena looks around at the bleak surroundings. The glow of the white sand surrounding them is the only light they have. Eerie darkness surrounds them and the barren land.
"Lovely place you have here," Arena says, not meaning a single word.
"Always late to everything. With all the reality-bending things you can do, you would think showing up on time would be one of them."
"Sorry. I didn't know we scheduled a meeting. I'll make sure to show up on time with the man who is actively trying to end my life."
The tapping of Void's fingers echoes as he speaks. "I can do without the attitude."
"I'll do my best," Arena says, not meaning it. He plans to make this conversation as irking as he can for Void. He knows this is immature, but he relishes Void's upset tone of voice.
Arena pulls out the chair from the table. The chair sinks slightly into the sand when he sits down. Arena ignores this and carries on the conversation as normal. "Why did you bring me here, anyway?"
Void lifts his finger and points to Arena's stomach. Arena looks down. For a brief moment, just a second, Arena sees his stomach impaled by the Toothpick's horn, his own blood dripping from the tip of the horn as streams flow down his shirt.
Then the image is gone. "Right. That's how I got here. Well, either I am dead or unconscious at the moment." Arena rubs on the area where he was impaled.
"It's the latter," Void says as he looks into the darkness. From the tip of Arena's index finger, a small golden marble is formed. He pushes on the marble, moving it back and forth with his index finger.
While Arena talks, his eyes jump back and forth to and from the scale on the table. Both piles are even in weight, giving it equal standing on both sides.
"Is this where you judge me? Weigh the good and bad against each other on the scale?" Arena says.
"I am not here to do that. Who am I to judge what is good or bad? They are two subjective topics. What is good to one may be bad to another. Like me taking an apple from you to feed a horse. That's good for the horse but bad for you," Void says, tapping away on the table.
"Like taking my heart out. That could be considered bad."
"Yes, that's a good example."
"So we are here just to talk?" Arena asks.
"Yes."
"Good. I have a lot I want to know."
"Go ahead," Void says, staring into the distance.
Arena sinks a bit into his chair. "I don't know how I feel about how cooperative you are being at the moment," Arena says, feeling skeptical. He sits there quietly for a moment.
"I know the seal we have on you is strong. There is no way you could send something out from where you are. That means these Beasts roaming the field were already out there before we came, right?"
"Yes. I had them out there keeping an eye on you. It wasn't easy for them to gather the information I needed without any of you noticing them. Especially the dog."
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Arena continues to roll the ball on the table. "You also wanted something from the tree."
"That I will keep to myself," Void says, keeping his gaze in the distance.
Arena looks away from Void and stares into the dark. What could be so damned interesting out there? The echo of Void's tapping makes a pattern. A pattern Arena should have noticed before.
One grain of sand goes dark every time Void taps his finger. It's a subtle change that no one would notice. Arena can't see this happen, but he can feel it. The darkness is closing in. With each grain that dims, a new white grain of sand is added to the scale.
Arena looks back at Void and then down to his stomach. He lifts his shirt to find the area where the Beast impaled him. The skin around the area has become marble. "What did you do?" Arena asks with frustration soaking into his voice.
Void turns to face him. Arena can feel the nonexistent grin on his face. "Took you long enough to notice," Void says gleefully. "You put poison in someone, and you'd think they would have the decency to notice." Void's arm moves as he speaks, as if to emote his feelings.
Arena finds this slightly better than the insufferable tapping. "Well, it won't work. I doubt you knew, but inside me—"
"Were you going to say how inside you have cells you beefed up with magic? Cells meant to help the body fight against foreign entities and other problems that would trouble the body?"
Arena sits there with a nervous smile. "Seems like you know a lot about me."
"I planned for that, but it is proving to be more difficult than expected," Void says.
Arena takes a deep breath to calm his nerves. "I don't like the fact that you know the inner workings of my body. I'll ignore the fact that you somehow know information no one knows and get to what really matters. I know you need my heart, so I doubt this poison will kill me because then you will have a heart full of deadly toxins. Then what does this do?"
"Sleep," Void says. "Right now, you are asleep because of the impaling. The poison will make sure you never wake. You will sleep for the rest of your life, giving me enough time to escape and get what we need."
"We? What do you mean 'we?'" Arena says.
Void sighs in disappointment. "Don't you get it? I am doing this for us." One of Void's hands touches his chest while he holds out the other hand to Arena. "For each other's benefit," Void says compassionately.
"I fail to see the benefits," Arena says. "I guess what you took from the tree is something to help you break free. I admit it was an oversight to make your seal only stop you from getting out but allow something to go in. I will fix that later. I believe that whatever you took has a massive amount of magic running through it. You are going to use it to break free."
Void chuckles at his words. "You will fix it later. That is something I like about you. Always the optimist. Tell me how you will stop the poison. How will you break free?" As Void says this, the scale continues to lower ever so slightly. It is far from hitting the table but noticeably lower than before.
"You forget that I am not alone in this."
"The wisps—it will take them quite some time to figure it out. All I need is four days, and that's it," Void says.
"Not just them. I feel like you are underestimating someone."
In Arena's bedroom, Lahar rests on the bed with her arms covering her head. She peeks over her elbow and looks at the nightstand. The book with Arena's handwritten notes grabs her attention.
"She is a persistent one," Arena says. "I know deep down she won't give up. Not because I am that important but because she won't let herself. She won't drop anything halfway done and hates that about herself. Me, on the other hand—I admire that."
Lahar looks at Arena's body lying on the bed. His lips pale, skin cold, she touches the side of his shaven head to see if he will wake up. Arena feels the warmth of her fingers as he continues to speak to Void.
"I know your original plan wasn't that I get hit with the poison, right?" Arena says to Void. He remains silent. "She would probably be a bargaining chip for an exchange which, let's be honest, is in terrible taste, or maybe you know how big a threat she poses."
Lahar picks up Arena's book. She begins to envelop herself in his notes and absorb the information in the hope that she can find something, no matter how small or significant, that can help.
"Four days, you say? That's more than enough time," Arena says, relaxing in his chair.
"That's a lot of confidence in her. Do you feel this way because she's your student?" Void says, his fire flickering with curiosity.
"That's not the only reason. You brought her here; you must have noticed. Inside her is a fire that burns brighter than you and I. So I will sit here. Let the darkness grow closer. Let the scales tip to your favor, and my body turns to marble. I will sit here patiently, knowing I am in good hands."
The noise of wood tapping on wood starts again. Void's fingers dance on the table as Arena continues to roll the ball on the table, the cold, crisp air surrounding them. Void's eyes burn with anticipation. The outcome is uncertain. This excites him, and he knows Arena feels the same.
They will both wait patiently to see if she can rescue the prince in time. Or will he fall into a deep sleep?