After his duel, Ethan stood with the others who had finished and waited. The remaining students faced their partners one by one.
The duels followed a predictable rhythm. Nobles moved like dancers, all polish and precision, but was lacking fire. Merchant-born fought with lean efficiency, chasing freedom from what they were born into. The few from lower classes fought like their lives depended on it. Raw, desperate and real.
Then Maya Thornfield stepped forward.
She moved with a predator's grace. Not elegant, but coiled. Her opponent, Marcus Valdris, a merchant's son, stood opposite her like someone who thought his paid lessons would carry him.
He was wrong.
"Begin!"
Maya was on him in an instant. The air snapped with her sudden motion. Her blunted blade cut toward him. Marcus barely got his weapon up. The blow rattled through him, buckling his stance.
But something was wrong. Her eyes had gone flat, like the light behind them had died. Her precise strikes turned into a barrage of attacks. Unrelenting.
The curse.
The realization slammed into Ethan. The Thornfield bloodline carried hidden sickness. A berserker state. A legacy of darkness that took over and didn't pick sides between friend and threat.
Marcus tried to rally, to find space. But Maya read him like an open book. Her sword became a blur. It wasn't just instinct, she saw his moves before he made them.
Then the shadows responded.
They gathered around her feet. Subtle at first, then bold. The arena's edges darkened. Shadows thickened like spilled ink. Maya's body blurred, moving too fast to follow clearly. Darkness clung to her blade, wrapped her arms, made her a ghost and a storm in one.
Marcus fell back, pale and shaking. Around them, silence stretched tight. Even Mistress Denna stepped forward, hand moving toward her weapon.
Maya didn't let up. Her strikes came smooth and sure. The shadows around her swelled into a sphere of flickering dark smoke.
One last blow with the flat of her blade sent Marcus flying. Her instincts corrected at the needed moment and switched it to the flat blade. He hit the stone and didn't get up.
Maya stood over him, practice blade raised. Shadows pulsed with her heartbeat. Her golden eyes had turned black. She was hunting.
Ethan jumped the barrier.
His boots struck stone. Her gaze snapped to him. The shadows writhed. Cold tendrils crept toward him. But he had seen this before, in another life, and he wasn't afraid.
"Maya." His voice came out low and steady. "You're not there anymore. You're here. You're safe."
She tilted her head, curious. The blade stayed high. The shadows twisted hungrily.
He had no magic. Not yet. But he had something else. Will. Hardened in fires she couldn't see. Ethan rooted himself in that weight and let it flow out. No spells. No tricks. Just the presence of someone who had already died once and come back unafraid.
"Find the center," he said. "The shadows serve you. Not the other way around."
Her face twitched. The fog behind her eyes shifted. The tendrils faltered.
Then she blinked. The darkness unraveled, retreating to the arena's edges. Her eyes were golden again. Wide as she looked from her fallen opponent to him.
"I didn't mean to..." Her voice broke.
"You were magnificent," Ethan said. "Terrifying, but magnificent."
The arena exhaled. Whispers spread like wildfire. Maya's power was undeniable. What he'd done had also raised questions no one knew how to ask.
**********
The other matches resumed after a few tense minutes. Everyone stayed alert after what they'd witnessed.
Ethan found shade beneath the eastern oaks. It was quiet there.
Maya found him.
"Thank you," she said, settling beside him.
He nodded.
She studied the garden paths in silence. Then: "The way you stopped me. That wasn't magic, but it worked."
She wasn't accusing. Just observing. Sharp as ever.
"Sometimes people surprise themselves," Ethan said. "Under pressure, we find strength we didn't know we had."
"Sometimes." She paused. "But not like that. Not with that calm."
She stood. Brushed her dress clean. Looked at him like she was seeing something dangerous and worth watching.
"Whatever game you're playing, Ethan Cole," she said, "I hope you're on the right side of it."
She walked away.
The girl with golden eyes had always been the key. Now, finally, he had her attention. Whether that was a gift or a curse, he didn't yet know.