Ur was a quiet town; nestled within a valley on the Floating Continent, located just a hair north from the busier settlement of Kazus. Ur was a classic storybook village - friendly residents, pleasantly sunny weather year-round, a spring located just a short walk away from the main road, and little to no monsters in the flowery fields surrounding the area. Having found such an affable place to stay, most of the townsfolk were content to live their lives peacefully, taking up quiet, simple hobbies like reading and gossiping…
Most of them.
It was an average day for Arc as he crouched in the flower patch by the town spring, grass-green overcoat kissing the ground, a shy smile on his face while he severed the stems from a few of the pinkish blossoms, bringing them to his face for a cautious whiff before deeming his choice acceptable and holding the delicate, green stems in one hand while searching for another. The scholarly lad had an affinity for the spring – it was a peaceful place of rest, and he liked to go when he could. He was typically accompanied by his childhood friend, Luneth; but today the impulsive, silver-haired teen had left town early to go exploring, leaving Arc to his own devices.
Arc wasn't upset with this, however; Luneth knew his friend, and thus knew that the timid boy preferred his books to cave-crawling, and didn't bother him with an invitation he would either guiltily turn down or accept half-heartedly. It was an odd relationship, but one that Arc cherished more than any other.
Besides, it gave him time alone to work on his secret hobby.
Lately, the shy intellectual had found a new use for his thick tomes: flower pressing. After seeing a few of the women in town squishing blossoms in their cookbooks as mementos, Arc tried it out for himself and was rather pleased with the results; the dried, flat blooms were lovely decorations, plus they kept his bookshelf smelling less like moldy paper and more like the flower patch. Luneth, in his usual obliviousness, did not seem to notice – and if Arc's adoptive father, Topapa, did, then he had made no move to mention it. Arc was fairly sure the Elder of Ur was, in fact, aware of his new activity; after all, Arc wasn't the only one who used the volumes lined on the shelves, and the young man had yet to relieve several books of their flowery fillings.
Breathing deep, Arc picked one last flower from the ground before standing, the muscles in his calves and lower back protesting as he did so, though not as loudly as his spine and knees, which popped noisily enough for him to hear. Crouching was definitely not a fun thing to do for a long period of time, even when used to it, but the scholar didn't mind if it got him such a gorgeous bouquet. The fragile pink and white posies drooped over his hand, already wilting in the warm sunlight, swaying easily in a light wind that playfully tussled Arc's chestnut hair until his thin-fingered hand ran through it, preventing any embarrassing new hairstyles. Yes, this fresh batch would be lovely once pressed, he thought; though not as bright or stunning as the elegant, long-stemmed wildflowers that inhabited the fields around the town.
Too lost in thought imagining his newly acquired bounty adorning his bookshelf, it was much too late to react once Arc felt the familiar, disconcerting presence behind him, and within seconds of realizing what was about to happen, he only had time to tense defensively before he felt the familiar press of hands at his back, shoving him mercilessly into the dirt. His knees hit first, and the timid scholar was glad he had chosen to wear his darker pants, since the grass stains that were no doubt on there now would have been a nightmare to scrub out of a lighter material. Arc's gloved hands released the flowers, the blossoms whirling about him in a furious dance while he clawed into the moist dirt to keep himself from falling flat onto his face, sensitive palms already scraped through the thin, brown material. Keeping his gaze downturned, Arc anxiously awaited another blow, head lowered and shoulders squared, the soft yellow scarf tucked around his neck swaying as another breeze rolled by, twisting the material in the tall grass.
After a tense moment of silence, the only noticeable sounds the soft whispers of the stream and a few singing birds, the first of the triplets known to frequently bully Arc scoffed, the noise an unwelcome addition to the serene setting. Arc shouldn't have been surprised by their arrival, really – they only appeared when he was alone, with no defenses…
'When I'm helpless,' Arc thought bitterly, canine tooth catching and biting the side his lower lip in shame.
"So, where's Luneth?" The leader of the triplets spoke up, his questioning voice condescending and anything but simple, innocent curiosity. Arc watched the boy's tan boots walk slowly around him, predator-like in their swagger; the other two followed suit, circling like hungry wolves. "Guess he got bored and just left him here. Not that I blame him," the second chimed in, voice a rough snarl that would have made Arc flinch had he not been so used to it. "He's so pathetic! Look at him, picking flowers!" All three laughed in unison – a throaty, disgusting sound to Arc's ears. He squared his jaw, squeezing shut his eyes as he attempted to steel himself, try for the first time to stand up to them.
"H-hey," the scholar began weakly, his voice not quite carrying the tone he was hoping for. The hideous laughing was cut short as three identical pairs of eyes fixed upon him, narrowed in short-fused anger. Swallowing the lump in his throat, Arc tilted his head up to stare back, mind racing to think of an appropriate statement. Thus far, the only things he could think to say were cheesy one-liners that Luneth would probably like to deliver if he was being particularly silly, no doubt picked up from the fiction novels he pushed on his timid friend.
"Well?" The final brother sneered, watching Arc with contempt. "Did you have something you wanted to say, bookworm?"
"Yes, I do," Arc's mouth moved without his brain really behind it, and he was both terrified and thrilled with this new development. "I… I want you to leave me alone," he stated plainly, clenching his dirt-smeared fists. The three regarded him now with a kind of veiled interest – this spine was a recent and unexpected development. For a second, the fearful hazel gaze Arc affixed them with turned somewhat hopeful, wishing to believe that with this tiny step, he was well on his way to being freed from their tyranny…
But he didn't know how bad they could get.
The triplet's vague intrigue vanished like Gysahl greens dropped into a herd of chocobos, their blank expressions shifting into something that would look more at home on a ravenous chimera than a human. With a wicked grin, the leader of the three bent down, scrutinizing the boy at his mercy and looking like he was deeply considering something. Arc slowly began to sit up and moved back, fingers scraping the dirt until he was sitting on his legs awkwardly, lightly freckled face watching them warily.
Without much warning, the bully reached forward, grabbing a fistful of his prey's cottony shirt, yanking him forward with a malicious grin. Arc scrambled to move away, hands moving back to help him find balance while his booted feet pushed off from the ground, hardly able to find purchase before he tried to stand and failed miserably – the second brother was standing on the back of the timid scholar's overcoat, and upon trying uncertainly to stand, Arc found it a very difficult thing to do, falling back from the weight. Another round of laughter from his antagonists echoed in the silence, before the one who grabbed hold of his shirt originally hefted the light teen to his feet, tugging his quarry to one side to keep him unsteady.
"I wonder if bookworms can swim," the bully said finally, the predatory gleam in his eye unmistakable. Arc froze in fear, wide eyes darting between them as the other two came around front, enthused with their brother's revelation and making snide comments in agreement. Once he realized his fate, said bookworm struggled to free himself, weakly attempting to force the hand closed on his shirt away, unaware that the other two had just moved into position until they grabbed his legs and coat, picking his light form easily from the ground.
Arc didn't want to scream – didn't want anyone to know about what was going to happen as the spring suddenly got closer to him than was comfortable, and for a second, all he felt was air under him moments before he hit the cold water, all the air knocked loose from his chest in one go. Despite the warm weather, the stream felt like ice on his skin, soaking into his layers of clothes. Luckily, the water wasn't deeper than his chest, and Arc wasn't totally powerless – he resurfaced quickly, cheeks tinged pink in cold and humiliation, hair plastered to his forehead.
"What do you know! I guess they can!" His antagonists chimed, guffawing in the teen's face as he stood stalk still in the spring, shivering slightly from the cold and watching his own embarrassed reflection in shame. Clenching his fists, Arc could feel the dirt loosening from under his fingernails, the calm water sloshing around him as he disturbed its regular flow.
"Hey! What's going on over here?!" a too-familiar voice called out, and Arc's pale face jerked up to see Luneth standing at the entrance to the clearing, hands on his hips, grey eyes narrowed and looking none too happy. All three bullies automatically stiffened, about-facing immediately with a healthy dose of fear that Arc was only too happy to take in before all three scattered like panicked birds, fleeing in different directions to keep Luneth from chasing. Any other day Luneth might have followed one, screaming profanities and threats with his every step, but today he seemed a bit weary from his early morning adventure, quickly picking his way over to the spring and reaching a hand out to help Arc free.
Arc took it without hesitation, pulled onto the shore effortlessly even with the added weight of his soaked clothing. A bit shaky from the cold and from his small adventure, the scholar sat on his legs yet again, hands holding onto the dripping edges of his coat. Luneth flashed him a hesitant smile, but Arc looked away to stare at the grass, at the flowers he had picked that were now lying at odd angles, forgotten in the scuffle.
"Hey, Arc. Are you okay?" Luneth spoke up, voice surprisingly soft for his brash personality. The scholar nodded once, right hand reaching out to the ground so that he was steady enough to begin to stand, though halfway Luneth grabbed the boy's upper arm, helping him needlessly, though Arc couldn't say he didn't appreciate it.
"I'll be fine," Arc assured him, wringing the water from his shirt. The air chilled him further, and his pitifully thin figure was wracked with another round of the shivers.
"…Well then," Luneth began, nose scrunched as he tried to think of the right thing to say. He obviously wasn't good at it, so opted for a diversion instead. "Let's go back to the house! You can get a change of clothes while I tell you all about my adventure!" he grinned, waiting for his friend's approval. When none was immediately forthcoming, he reached out for Arc's shoulder, guiding him along.
Both orphans shared a house with their foster father Topapa, and Arc was intensely grateful that the man was out when they arrived – the scholar didn't want to explain how he had gotten wet, and he was a horrible liar to boot. Luneth held him up at the door, telling him to wait as he rummaged for a towel for the sopping wet teen – no need to track water through the house, Arc thought to himself. When Luneth finally returned with a faded blue cloth, Arc had shed his coat, hanging it up by the door above his boots, which tilted listlessly to the side, a small puddle forming beneath them. Arc reached out to take the towel from his friend, who instead decided to skip over his hands entirely, dropping the absorbent material onto the scholar's head, scrubbing playfully despite Arc's tiny yelp of protest.
"Go change; I'll wait for you in the kitchen!" Luneth called out, already on his way to said room while Arc pulled the towel off his head, able to smile genuinely at his friend's retreating back. Walking back to his own room, Arc pulled the towel around his shoulders, shuffling through his trunk to find suitable replacements. Once he procured them, he turned to place them on his desk for a moment, only to be baffled by a small, bright blue wildflower than had made its way onto his writing table without his knowledge, the long petals bending downward in a soft curl while it sat innocently on top of a book. How strange – he hadn't picked it, and nobody was in here since he left this morning; unless it just wandered in by slipping under a crack in the door, then Luneth must have picked it this afternoon while he was out, leaving it for him to find.
Beaming, Arc muttered a small thank you to the plant, completely aware that it couldn't hear – but that was fine; it wasn't for the foliage, anyway. Pulling on his change of clothes, he eagerly turned to the kitchen, ready to listen to Luneth's exaggerated tales of adventure.