Together!

The training arena was silent in the wake of Arthur's abrupt departure. The faint scent of coffee and sugar lingered in the air, but the lighthearted warmth from earlier had faded, replaced by a heavy, unspoken tension.

Ayame clutched her coffee cup tightly, her pink eyes wide with concern. Her lips trembled slightly before she finally broke the silence,

"Did… did I do something wrong?" she asked softly, her voice barely above a whisper as her body instinctively trembled. It was as if her very being was terrified when Arthur was here, and she didn't know why or how.

Ellara turned to her, her sapphire eyes softening with something akin to sympathy as she spoke, "No, Ayame. This isn't your fault. You didn't do anything wrong."

"But he...." Ayame hesitated, her gaze flickering to the spot where Arthur had disappeared, "He was staring at me… like he was trying to figure something out. Like I was the reason he was,"

"You're not the cause, Ayame," Ellara interrupted gently, her porcelain-like hand resting lightly on Ayame's shoulder as she gazed into her eyes, "But you might… be a part of the answer."

Elektra crossed her arms, leaning slightly against one of the crystalline pillars nearby, her eyes sharp with curiosity and faint frustration at all the events that had happened up to this point,

"Okay, hold up," Elektra said, her voice cutting through the tension. "What the hell was that about? That Arthur fella, he looked…weird. I mean, he's usually all broody and mysterious, but this? He was like a different person."

Ellara sighed, her elegant shoulders rising and falling as if carrying an invisible weight as she finally began to explain, "Arthur is… going through something he's never experienced before."

Elektra raised an eyebrow, "Never experienced before? You mean the guy who's been around for, what, countless decades? What could he possibly have never experienced before?"

The corners of Ellara's mouth twitched slightly, almost as if she wanted to smile, but couldn't as she spoke,

"Emotions."

Ayame and Elektra froze, confusion on their faces.

"What?" Elektra's voice was flat, her crimson eyes narrowing in confusion, "That doesn't make any sense. Everyone has emotions. Even cold-hearted bastards like Lucius have something going on in there. You're saying he doesn't?"

Ellara turned her gaze downward for a moment before holding up one hand. A faint glow ran along her fingertips as she gently tugged at the delicate seam of her index finger.

With a soft click, her porcelain-like skin split open, revealing intricate gears, mana threads, and faintly glowing runes embedded beneath.

Ayame let out a soft gasp, her pink eyes wide with shock. Elektra's jaw tightened as she stared at the exposed mechanisms.

"Wait… you're a doll?" Elektra said slowly.

"Yes," Ellara said softly, her sapphire eyes locking onto theirs, "Arthur created me."

The silence was deafening as they contemplated what they had just learned.

"He built me with an advanced understanding of Aether, Soul Magic, and craftsmanship that surpasses mortal comprehension," Ellara continued, carefully clicking her finger back into place. The glow faded, and her hand looked perfectly normal once again, "He created me for one reason: to see if life, if artificial life, could feel emotions."

Ayame's voice trembled, "But… you do feel emotions, don't you? You care about Arthur. You care about us."

Ellara hesitated, her sapphire eyes briefly flickering with a faraway look. "I do feel emotions. Joy, Happiness, Sadness, Frustration, I feel them all. I love to study Magic and love photography. But you have to understand, he created me to see if his creations can feel emotions. My existence is further perplexing, my creator can't feel emotions, but I could."

Elektra's expression darkened as she processed the revelation. "So Arthur's been trying to figure out emotions… for his entire existence?"

"Yes," Ellara said softly. "Since the day he first existed, Arthur has been searching for something he was never given. Something fundamental to everyone else in the world. Love. Anger. Joy. Sorrow. Lust. He doesn't have those. He doesn't understand them. He can attempt to imitate them, but it's hollow."

Ayame set her coffee cup down, her hands trembling slightly, "That's why he learned Soul Magic… why he built you… why he surrounds himself with us… why he lives in this Tower with mortals."

Ellara nodded. "Every experiment, every study, every interaction—, t's all been in search of something he cannot define. Something he's spent centuries trying to grasp. But now… something is happening. Something is changing. And it's terrifying for him, Ayame. Because for the first time in his endless existence, he's feeling something he can't explain. Something he can't analyze or break down into logical fragments."

Elektra ran a hand through her silver hair, letting out a sharp breath. "So that's why he's acting like… like a mess. He's feeling things, and he doesn't know how to deal with them."

"Exactly," Ellara said, "Imagine being an ancient being who's seen entire Empires and eras changed, he's met with the most ancient and powerful of Spirits, and yet...being undone by something as simple and as powerful as a feeling."

The room fell silent again as the weight of Ellara's words settled over them.

Ayame swallowed hard, her pink eyes brimming with determination. "If this… if all of this is happening because of the Soul Binding… if I'm the reason he's feeling this way… then I have to talk to him."

"Ayame, " Ellara started, but the girl was already moving.

"No," Ayame said firmly, shaking her head. "I have to. If my soul is connected to his, if I caused this… then I need to understand it too. I need to help him. I want to help him."

Elektra clicked her tongue, "Aya, you're walking into a storm."

"I don't care," Ayame said with a strength that surprised both Ellara and Elektra, "Arthur has done so much for me. He's given me a second chance, a purpose. If I can do anything—anything—to help him figure this out, then I will."

Ellara's sapphire eyes softened as she studied Ayame's determined expression. Finally, she gave a small nod, "Go, Ayame. But tread carefully. Arthur is… vulnerable right now. Even if he doesn't realize it."

Ayame turned, her white hair catching the faint glow of the arena lights as she sprinted towards the same hallway Arthur had disappeared down.

**************

Ayame's footsteps echoed softly down the grand hallway of crystalline arches and polished marble floors. Her heart pounded with every step, but her resolve remained unshaken.

The heavy double doors of the study were slightly ajar, and through the gap, she could see faint flickers of golden light dancing across the floor. Taking a deep breath, Ayame pushed the doors open.

Arthur's study was in disarray. Piles of ancient tomes and scrolls lay scattered across the floor, pages filled with intricate diagrams, soul-binding runes, and cryptic notes.

Bookshelves that once stood in perfect order had been hastily rifled through, their contents spilling like discarded thoughts. The faint scent of ink and parchment mixed with the cold stillness of the air.

In the center of the chaos sat Arthur, slouched in an armchair by the massive arched window that overlooked the endless expanse of stormy clouds below. The ethereal glow of his rainbow-hued fur pulsed faintly with each breath he took.

His sharp, inhuman eyes, vibrant and otherworldly, were fixed on the sky, yet unfocused. His head turned slightly as Ayame entered, and a hollow, soulless chuckle escaped his throat.

"Why are you here, Ayame?" he asked, his voice low and distant, carrying the weight of a thousand unspoken thoughts. 

Ayame stepped closer, her pink eyes glimmering with determination as she firmed her will and spoke, "No one sent me, Arthur. I… I came because I wanted to."

Arthur's eyes locked onto hers. Ayame clenched her fists at her sides, her voice trembling slightly but unwavering as she continued.

"I don't understand what you're feeling, Arthur. And I know I probably never truly will. But…" she paused, taking a shaky breath, "…you saved me. In more ways than I can ever explain. And if my soul is bound to yours, if I'm somehow part of whatever this is you're going through, then… I'm here. I want to save you, too."

Arthur stared at her for a long moment, his expression unreadable. Slowly, almost as if guided by instinct rather than thought, he reached out. His large hand, calloused yet impossibly gentle, brushed a lock of her white hair away from her face, tucking it softly behind her ear.

Ayame froze, her breath catching in her throat. The touch was fleeting, but it felt… right, as though it were something natural, a gesture meant to bridge a chasm neither of them fully understood.

Arthur pulled his hand back abruptly, his eyes widening slightly as if realizing what he'd just done, "I'm… sorry," he murmured, his voice barely audible. "I've been… strange. Conflicted. I shouldn't have,"

"No," Ayame interrupted softly, her pink eyes shining under the dim light. "It didn't feel wrong, Arthur. In fact… it felt good."

Arthur stared at her again, his mouth slightly open in surprise. Slowly, his lips curled into the faintest ghost of a smile. "The Soul Binding works in mysterious ways," he said, his voice carrying a melancholic weight, yet softened by something hopeful.

Ayame took another step forward, closing the distance between them. "Then let's figure it out together," she said firmly, "You've carried this burden alone for so long, Arthur. But you don't have to anymore. Whatever this is, whatever you're feeling, we'll face it together."

Arthur's shoulders sagged slightly as if an immense weight had been lifted from them. He hesitated for a moment before leaning forward, his broad arms wrapping carefully around Ayame in an embrace that was both cautious and profound.

Ayame returned the hug without hesitation, her small frame dwarfed by his towering presence.

For a long moment, they stayed like that, two souls bound by something ancient, something inexplicable, yet undeniably powerful. The storm outside the window raged on, but in the study, there was only quiet warmth and the faint glow of connection.

Arthur's voice was barely above a whisper as he spoke into the silence.

"Thank you, Ayame."

And for the first time in what felt like eternity, the Mythical Spirit Wolf's voice carried something more than just logic or calculation, it carried feeling.

Together, they would face whatever lay ahead.