The Arena

Leaving

Karina stood up from the table.

"Now you should head home and get some rest. We'll have to get up early tomorrow morning if we want to reach the first city before nightfall."

"Wait..." Acadia looked up. "Tomorrow morning?"

"Of course," Karina said briskly, repacking the weapons "Pack light- only the essentials. We need to get to Idavoll and start training right away."

Acadia's stomach flipped.

"Tomorrow... morning."

"Yes," Karina said slowly, looking up. "Is that alright?"

"Yeah, yeah..." Acadia turned away from her. "No problem."

"Alright then," she said skeptically. "I'll pick you up tomorrow then? Say, half an hour before dawn?"

Acadia nodded and left the inn, walking briskly towards her home. When she got there, she went immediately to her room. She sat at her desk, knee bouncing, arguing silently about what to do. She hadn't thought they'd be leaving so soon. She needed to tell her father.

But what if he tries to keep me from going?

She bit her lip. And what about Elliot? He probably won't even talk to me...

She wiped her eyes fiercely as tears threatened to prick through. No. She couldn't cry. She didn't have the time. It was already late afternoon; she needed to pack. She grabbed an old rucksack from her closet and threw in some pants and shirts.

She spun around the room hysterically, trying to fight rising panic. She couldn't bring everything, only the bare essentials.

Only the bare essentials. Should I bring food? Is Karina going to bring food?

She fell over onto her bed, clutching her head. Calm down, Acadia.

She took in a deep breath and let it out, sitting up. Her eyes were red and teary. After packing all her work clothes, she threw in some shorts and a dress, as well as a bundle of hair ties. Lastly, she added her toothbrush and hairbrush and clipped a water bottle to the outside of the pack.

Acadia stepped back and surveyed her towering, overstuffed bookshelf. Each one held so many special memories, it felt like choosing between children. Finally, she picked up a slim, hardback children's story her father had given her when she was little, and a slightly thicker adventure novel Elliot had bought her a couple months before. She stared at the books for a long time before finally stowing them inside her pack.

She sat down at her desk again. This time, she grabbed a piece of paper and a pencil. She wrote:

"Dear Elliot..."

As she wrote, tears started falling from her eyes, inadvertently smudging her writing. She couldn't hold back. She filled up the whole page.

"You're my best friend, Elliot. Always have been, always will be. I love you.

- Acadia"

Her hands shook as she folded up the paper and set it down on her desktop. She looked out the window.

"Acadia! Time for dinner!" her father called.

She jumped, looking over at her almost-full rucksack; she threw it back into the closet and hid the note. She took in a deep breath, assuming the most neutral expression she could muster, and made her way downstairs.

Acadia sat down across from her father at the dining table. They ate, Acadia's father glancing up at her surreptitiously. Eventually, Acadia broke the silence.