“Look, Torrie. It’s not that it doesn’t fascinate me,” Eddie said finally, his voice strained. “There’s just... nothing else to discuss. I don’t know what else to say about her.”


    “You used to be so eager to meet Aunt Catherine!” Her eyes narrowed. Her voice rose, “You’d spend hours talking about her, sharing everything you learned from her with me. Now, you act like she’s just another stranger. She noticed it, too. Doesn’t that bother you?”


    “Look, Torrie…” Eddie’s face flushed, his patience wearing thin. He shook his head, frustrated by her insistence. “It’s not that simple. You don’t understand—”


    “Don’t I?!” Torrie’s voice cracked as she cut him off. Her whole body trembled, but she stood her ground. “Don’t I understand what happened that day? The day Mom and Dad were called to your school out of nowhere? The day you left home grinning, rambling about alchemy like always, and then came back—” Her breath hitched. “Looking like something inside you had died!?”


    Eddie flinched.


    Torrie’s voice wavered, but she pressed on, desperate. “You used to be passionate about Alchemy, Eddie. You used to talk about it like it was everything. You looked up to Aunt Catherine like she was some kind of hero—even though you hadn’t seen her in years. Even though it would take decades before you got to meet her again, you still dreamed about it! You were going to share your research with her, show her everything you’d learned.”


    Her hands trembled. “But now you’re just… empty.”


    Silence hung between them, heavy, suffocating.


    “Don’t you feel bad for her, Ed?” Her voice cracked, raw with emotion. “Alchemy used to be your life. You used to dream about it. Chase it. And now you just—” She sucked in a shuddering breath. “Now you act like it’s nothing.”


    She wiped at her face with the sleeve of her coat, her shoulders rising and falling as she struggled to keep control.


    “What happened to you?!”


    Eddie’s jaw clenched. His fingers curled into fists. His whole body tensed like a wire stretched too tight.


    Then—


    “Enough!” he shouted.


    Eddie stood up, looking at Torrie, “You want to know what happened? Do you?”


    Torrie swallowed, her lips parting as if to speak, but no words came out.


    Eddie let out a bitter laugh, shaking his head. “Fine. You want the truth? Here it is.”


    His hands trembled at his sides, but he forced himself to keep talking. The words came spilling out, like a wound torn open.


    “Back at Aella Academy… when I was still a student there…” His hands curled tighter, fingernails digging into his palms.  “I’ve got a classmate named Davies. Arrogant, cruel—he had everything handed to him, and he liked to remind people of it.”


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    “He especially liked tormenting Markus…. And Markus wasn’t as adept at magic as the rest of us. He was an easy target. And I was the only one who gave a damn about it.”


    He took a step forward, his voice rising. “I didn’t fit in either. I didn’t try to. But Markus… He was my friend. My only real friend.”


    He looked away, as if the memory was too much to face. “One day, Davies pushed too far. He cornered Markus, humiliated him—said he was leeching off me, that he had no right to even be there. He challenged Markus to a duel, knowing damn well he couldn’t win.”


    Torrie’s lips parted slightly, but she said nothing. She just listened.


    Eddie let out a ragged breath. “He never stood a chance. And I—I couldn’t just stand there. I was so goddamn angry, so sick of Davies, so tired of the way he tore people down just because he could.” His voice cracked, but he forced himself to go on. “So I challenged him instead.”


    He turned away for a moment, as if he couldn’t bear to look at her. “Davies laughed in my face. He was a Conjuration student—everyone knew Alchemy wasn’t suited for dueling. I should’ve lost.” He let out a shaky exhale. “I should’ve lost.”


    Silence stretched between them, thick and suffocating.


    Torrie’s hands trembled at her sides. “But you didn’t.”


    Eddie’s jaw tightened. His throat ached, his vision blurred. He forced himself to meet her gaze.


    “No,” he said, barely above a whisper. “I didn’t.”


    His breath hitched, and he turned his hands over, staring at them as if they still carried the weight of that moment. “I don’t even know how it happened. One second, I was transmuting, trying to redirect his attack, and the next—” His voice faltered. He shut his eyes, as if he could block out the memory, but it was burned into him.


    “His face,” Eddie whispered, the horror creeping back into his voice. “Half of it was gone.”


    Torrie’s breath caught in her throat.


    “There was nothing left but burns and warped flesh. His screams—” Eddie stopped himself, his whole body shuddering. “There was no coming back from it. And after that, I was expelled.”


    The word hung in the air like a sentence passed down in a courtroom.


    “The Aella Council called it black magic,” he muttered, his voice hollow. “Said what I did was unnatural, dangerous. That I should’ve lost. That expelling me was easier than letting it turn into a scandal.”


    Eddie let out a bitter laugh, but there was no humor in it. “And you know what the worst part is?” He looked up at Torrie, his eyes dark, haunted. “I don’t even know if they were wrong.”


    Torrie’s lips trembled. “Eddie…”


    He turned away sharply. “Now you know,” he said, his voice thick with exhaustion. “Now you understand.”


    “But still…” Torrie, took a step back. “You’ve changed so much, Eddie. It’s like you’re not even the same person anymore.”


    “Maybe I’m not.” Panting and shaken, Eddie looked at her with regret and defiance.  “Maybe I can’t be the person I was before. You don’t know what it’s like to live with the consequences of your actions. And I hope you never.”


    For a moment, the forest seemed to close around them, the weight of their argument pressing down on both of them. The glow of the Luminas felt colder, and the distance between them seemed to widen with every harsh word.


    Torrie’s tears continued to flow, her voice a whisper of anguish. “I just... I wish you could see how much we still need that part of you, Eddie… The part you’ve killed that day… The part that believed in Alchemy and the good it could do.”


    “There is no good coming from it, Torrie.” Eddie said finally, “Nothing…”


    The silence between Eddie and Torrie was thick, the weight of their argument still pressing down on them. The soft rustling of leaves, the distant hum of crickets—everything felt muted, suffocated beneath unspoken words.


    Then, a sharp noise—footsteps, fast and uneven, crushing through undergrowth. A breathless, ragged gasp broke the stillness.


    Markus burst through the trees, his silhouette illuminated by the golden glow of the Eden Flowers. His face was pale, streaked with sweat, his wide eyes darting wildly. He clutched his flintlock rifle with both hands, knuckles white, as if his grip was the only thing keeping him grounded.


    “Eddie!” His voice cracked. His chest heaved, each breath short and desperate.


    Eddie scrambled to his feet. “Markus?”


    Markus staggered forward, barely able to steady himself. “Catherine—” He choked on the words, forcing them out between gulps of air.


    “She’s in trouble. There’s something in there… something huge!”