The windowless training chamber lay deep within the Academy's combat wing, one of several identical rooms assigned to each standard class.
Students scattered throughout the space, their conversations creating a chaotic buzz of nervous energy.
Instructor Caldwen stepped forward.
"Attention!" His voice cut through the chatter like a blade.
The room fell quiet instantly. Students turned toward him, straightening unconsciously.
"At ease," he commanded, then began pacing slowly before them.
"Today we shall establish your tournament teams." His footsteps echoed against the stone floor as he walked. "It is my obligation to explain the regulations."
He paused in his pacing, hands clasped behind his back. "The Academy recognizes two competition categories. Objective-based challenges, designed for non-combatants - the stargazers, potion mixers, and their ilk."
His tone made clear what he thought of such pursuits. He resumed walking, his gaze sweeping across his students.
"We are fighters. Mages. We trained for combat. And we must face opposition head-on." He paused for emphasis. "Therefore, all students in this class shall participate in combat competition."
He stopped again, allowing the weight of his words to settle.
"Now." The pause stretched for several heartbeats. "I could easily arrange team compositions for this class. Through my experience, however, I believe I have prepared you sufficiently to recognize strategic thinking on your own."
Caldwen's expression grew more serious as he continued his measured pace. "It is important that you select the right individuals yourselves. These partnerships will be solidified throughout the tournament. Permanent, unless certain unexpected events occur."
He stopped directly in front of the class. "Begin."
The moment permission was given, students began moving around the training hall. But instead of the expected rush of activity, Celia noticed something odd. Students were glancing around cautiously, as if waiting for cues.
Then Lysithea stood. Unlike the other students who moved around uncertainly, she remained perfectly still, a black folding fan swaying slightly from her wrist. Immediately, Vera appeared at her side.
"Lady Fairwind," she addressed respectfully. "Like we talked about yesterday?"
"Of course. Air and fire complement each other beautifully." Lysithea's voice carried just enough to be overheard. "Tomlin, would you care to complete our arrangement?"
Tomlin practically stumbled over himself to join them. "Really? Yeah, absolutely."
As if a dam had burst, other students began moving. But Celia noticed they were forming pairs first, leaving the third positions open.
She spotted Merin near the weapon racks - the girl she'd shared lunch with just two days ago, the one who'd complained about struggling to find good teammates. Surely she would remember their conversation.
"Merin," Celia approached with relief. "Are you still interested in teaming up like we discussed?"
Merin looked up from examining a practice sword, her face flushing slightly. "Oh, Celia... actually, I've been thinking about it more, and I'm not sure our fighting styles would mesh well."
The excuse was so transparent it stung worse than outright rejection.
"But you said you thought it would complement your earth affinity perfectly."
"I did, but..." Merin's eyes darted nervously around the room. "I just think it's better if we keep our options open, you know? Find what works best for everyone."
She turned back to the weapon rack, clearly ending the conversation.
Stung by the betrayal, Celia tried elsewhere. She approached Jana, who stood uncertainly by one of the training dummies.
"Want to team up? I believe lightning pairs very well with water attunement."
Jana looked up, then her eyes flicked nervously toward where Lysithea was organizing her group. "Oh, um... Marcus and I were just talking about something. Let me go check with him real quick."
She hurried away before Celia could respond.
Strange. Jana and Marcus had never worked together before.
Celia tried another approach. Two boys were debating strategy in hushed tones.
"We've got fire and earth, but we need someone who hits hard..." one was saying.
"I have lightning affinity. Pretty strong for offense," Celia offered.
Both boys looked up, exchanged a quick glance, then one cleared his throat. "Actually, we're still figuring things out. My cousin from another class might join us. He also has lightning affinity, you know how it is."
Another polite dismissal. The message was clear enough - they didn't want her.
As Celia moved through the room, the pattern became clear. Every time she approached an incomplete group, they suddenly remembered prior commitments or found reasons to delay their decisions.
Meanwhile, teams were solidifying around her. Marcus and Nerissa had found their third. Jana joined a different trio entirely. Students who'd shown no previous cooperation were suddenly discovering perfect strategic matches.
From across the room, Celia caught Lysithea watching her attempts. When their eyes met briefly, Lysithea's lips curved in the faintest smile before she turned back to her teammates with renewed enthusiasm.
Twenty minutes passed. Every student except Celia had found their place. She stood alone in the center of the training hall while complete teams had formed around her, their excited planning creating a circle of belonging she'd been excluded from.
Caldwen surveyed the scene with obvious approval. "Good. This is how you should approach the tournament. Make your own tactical decisions. No one shall hold your hand."
His gaze fell on Celia, still standing alone. His expression shifted to mild irritation - not at the situation, but at the complication it represented.
"It appears we have one unplaced student." He waited a beat. "Would any team consider adjusting their composition?"
Silence filled the training hall. Several students glanced toward Lysithea's group before studying their feet with sudden intensity.
The quiet stretched uncomfortably.
Finally, Lysithea spoke into the tension, her black fan moving in slow, deliberate strokes. "I'm sure everyone chose what they felt would work best strategically. Sometimes these things simply happen naturally." Her voice carried perfect politeness. "Though I do hope everyone finds their proper place eventually."
The emphasis on 'proper place' was subtle but unmistakable.
Caldwen's expression grew stern. "You all have until the end of this week to secure your teams. Students who fail to participate will find themselves falling behind while others advance. I trust you understand what that means."
He gestured toward the class. "Once you are certain of your team composition, submit the registration form to my office."
Then he turned specifically to Celia, who had been standing motionless throughout the exchange. Her hand tightened around the hilt of her rapier.
"Miss Freznoria, I do hope you realize the urgency of this matter. You can stay here for the remainder of class... but you will train alone." He paused, considering. "I am permitting you to visit nearby classes and find yourself teammates. Other instructors should understand the situation. This isn't uncommon."
The hall filled with excited voices as teams began their planning. Celia stood frozen, Caldwen's directive weighing on her mind. Seek other classes. She could barely claim friendship with anyone here, much less students she'd never met. What were her chances of finding teammates who would actually accept her?
Twenty-four students. Eight teams. All formed without her. Even the groups that had needed a third member had found reasons to reject her offer.
The chatter around her became a meaningless hum. Her free hand slowly curled into a fist.
She didn't need to guess who had orchestrated this isolation. Her eyes found Lysithea's group across the room, where the noble girl stood at the center of her teammates like a queen holding court.
Celia turned sharply and strode toward the exit.
Just before leaving, she glimpsed Lysithea nodding at something one of her teammates said. The fan partially concealed her face, but not the triumphant gleam in her eyes.
Celia stepped into the corridor and pressed her back against the closed door. Her duelist uniform, which had made her feel so confident this morning, now felt like a mockery. Her breathing came in sharp bursts. Heat pricked behind her eyes. All those hours of study, all that effort to prove herself worthy of this place - and still the Academy's games threatened to sweep her aside.
She forced herself to breathe slowly until her pulse steadied. Fine. If they wanted to make this a battle, she would give them one.
A face came to mind unbidden. Someone who had never once questioned her worthiness. Someone who had extended friendship without conditions or expectations.
This setback might not spell her doom after all. It might be exactly the push she needed to forge her own way forward.