The first hour of duels had been more noise than substance.
Sure, the crowd loved it — two elementalists blasting each other with enough raw power to light up the barrier dome, summoners calling forth beasts that dissolved into harmless motes when struck — but the forcefield made it all… safe. Too safe. They were playing at war, not living it. The worst that could happen was exhaustion or bruises, and that lack of stakes bled the thrill from it for me.
I leaned against the railing, half-listening to Ari's running commentary beside me, when the announcer's voice rose above the din.
"Next bout — representing Duskfall Academy… Radiant Edge!"
Juno's hero name. She stepped forward from the waiting ranks, her lightweave armor catching the sun in a blinding flash. The crowd's roar washed over her like ocean spray, but she moved with the calm of someone walking into a familiar room.
"And representing Azure Bastion… Shiranami!"
Her opponent strode in from the opposite gate — a boy in lacquered navy-blue armor patterned with silver waves, his face hidden behind a half-mask. Where Juno's presence shone like a lighthouse, his felt like the slow pull of a deep tide.
Ari grinned like a kid unwrapping a gift. "Oh, this is going to be good."
Rhea folded her arms, eyes narrowing. "They're the main fighters for their schools. Watch closely."
I waved Juno off with the others. She glanced our way, just briefly, and gave the faintest nod before stepping into position.
The signal rune blazed overhead.
They moved at the same time.
Juno surged forward, light exploding from her boots in a burst that carried her across the sand like a comet's streak. Her longsword — a thin silver-edged blade — was already glowing, threads of radiance spiralling down the steel.
Shiranami didn't step back. He swept his arm in a wide arc, and water shimmered into existence from nowhere, curling into a wall that hardened like glass under his will. Juno's blade struck — the impact sent a ripple through the barrier, refracting light across the dome.
He turned defense into offense instantly, the wall bursting into a hundred liquid spears that darted toward her. Juno dropped into a low spin, a flare of light radiating outward from her armor to burn the projectiles into mist.
Light for speed. Reinforcement for impact. She was layering them perfectly.
She closed again, feinting low. The moment Shiranami's stance shifted to block, she vaulted upward, her sword cleaving a searing arc aimed for his shoulder. He caught it on a wave-forged blade of his own, water solidified to steel's hardness, but the blow still staggered him.
He retaliated fast — a whirl of his weapon sent a spiralling torrent under her guard, sweeping her legs from beneath her. She slammed into the sand but rolled away before his follow-up strike landed, the impact sending a geyser skyward where she'd been.
The crowd was eating it up — half chanting Juno's name, half shouting for Shiranami.
Juno switched tempo. Instead of constant pressure, she slowed, letting him come to her. His attacks came like crashing waves — wide sweeps, bursts of pressurized water sharp enough to slice steel. She took each one just outside the edge of contact, reinforcing her armor only when the spray nicked too close.
Then she saw her chance.
A quick side-step let her slip inside his guard. She planted her heel, light flooding from her boots into the sand, anchoring her stance. Her sword blazed to near blinding, and with a single upward slash, she shattered his water blade. The fragments fell as harmless droplets, hissing in the heat of her radiance.
He tried to rebuild it, but she didn't let him. A flash-step brought her to his flank, and the pommel of her sword — reinforced, glowing — slammed into his ribs. The impact sent him sprawling.
The dome's failsafe triggered instantly, locking him in a protective shell of light as the announcer declared the victor.
"Winner — Radiant Edge!"
The crowd roared. Ari was on her feet, clapping like a maniac. Rhea gave a small, satisfied nod.
Juno walked off the field without a single triumphant gesture, as if the win had been just another part of the plan. She passed us, her expression calm, but I caught the faintest flicker of a smile before she moved on to the competitors' rest area.
It had been the best duel of the day so far.
And yet… watching her fight, so sure, so untouchable, I felt a cold knot in my stomach.
If it came down to her and Nyxshade's plan, what side would I be on?
* * *
The crowd was still riding the high of Juno's win when the announcer's voice boomed through the forcefield dome, snapping the air taut with anticipation.
"Next match — representing Duskfall Academy… Crimson Gale!"
Ari.
The reaction was immediate, but not unanimous. Cheers from our side of the stands, polite applause from the neutral spectators, and a ripple of murmurs laced with doubt. No magic, no elemental affinity — and in Duskfall, that was practically an obituary in combat brackets.
They didn't know.
They hadn't seen her late-night sparring with Juno in the training hall, the way she absorbed every scrap of technique until she could turn it into something entirely her own.
Her boots rang against the steel walkway as she entered the arena, wearing her black-and-red combat set — light armor plating over a fitted jacket, twin katanas strapped in an X on her back, holstered pistols at her sides, and a grenade belt slung carelessly like a fashion statement.
From the opposite gate emerged her opponent — Voltstrike, one of Crimson Spire's apex students. His uniform was sleeveless, designed to expose arms covered in crackling arcs of blue electricity, which danced between his metal gauntlets like restless snakes. His hero mask reflected the dome lights in sharp white slashes.
They met at the center, a few paces apart. Ari tilted her head with that trademark grin.
"Go easy on me, big guy."
Voltstrike didn't smile. His eyes narrowed.
The signal rune flashed.
He moved first — a blur of speed amplified by a surge of current through his boots. Ari didn't backpedal — she sidestepped, one katana clearing its sheath in a whip-fast arc that rang against his gauntlet with a satisfying clash. Sparks spat from the contact.
She spun away, drawing her second blade, and her assault came in sharp, unpredictable angles. Juno's style was deliberate, a scalpel — Ari fought like a storm in human form, all flares and bursts and sudden shifts in rhythm.
Voltstrike retaliated with a blast of electric energy from his palms, forcing her to roll aside. She came up already swapping to pistols, firing rapid shots that pinged against his bracers and the ground, her aim pushing him toward the perimeter of the forcefield.
He lunged again — but Ari had already switched back to blades mid-motion, the pistols vanishing into their holsters like sleight of hand. She ducked under his guard, steel flashing in twin cross-slashes that bit sparks from his armor.
The crowd roared at the speed of it.
Voltstrike snarled, grounding himself before unleashing a radial shockwave that sent a ripple of blue light across the floor. Ari was airborne before it hit, flipping over him and tossing a flash grenade mid-arc. It went off behind him as she landed, blinding him long enough for her to drive both katanas toward his chestplate — only for him to catch the blades with crackling gauntlets, electricity sparking dangerously close to her hands.
She let them go without hesitation, yanked a pair of daggers from her boots, and carved twin shallow cuts along his ribs before vaulting backward to reclaim the katanas in a smooth spin.
Juno would never waste movement. Ari weaponized waste, turning every dropped blade or misstep into bait.
Voltstrike, however, wasn't a top Spire student for nothing. He adapted quickly, increasing his discharge output until his body became a moving hazard. Her close-range flurries became harder to land — each contact sent jolts through her arms, forcing her to retreat.
She swapped to grenades — smoke first, then fragmentation — using the cover to dart in and out, slicing where she could and firing through gaps in the haze. The fight devolved into a blur of steel flashes and electric arcs cutting through gray.
But eventually, his endurance outpaced hers. A feint to her left, a surge of lightning to her right — her dodge came a heartbeat too late. His gauntlet caught her mid-strike, sending a shock through her torso that dropped her to one knee.
He didn't hesitate — a controlled burst from both palms flung her backward across the sand. She skidded, coughing, blades clattering to the floor.
"Winner — Voltstrike!"
The arena thundered with applause — not just for him.
Ari pushed herself up slowly, shaking out her arms as if the loss was nothing but a warm-up. Then she raised one fist toward the crowd, grin still intact, daring them not to cheer.
And they did.
Politicians in the high box. Veteran heroes. Students from all three academies. Even Voltstrike gave her a curt nod of acknowledgment before turning away.
She'd lost — but she'd burned herself into the festival's memory.
* * *
The roar of the crowd still echoed in my ears when I slipped past the stagehands and into the shadowed corridor behind the duelling arena. The air here smelled different — like sweat, ozone, and the faint tang of medic salve.
I found Ari leaning against a crate, one leg bent, water bottle dangling from her fingers. The medics had already patched her up — light burns around her wrists and neck, a thin smear of blood at the corner of her mouth. She didn't look like someone who'd just gone toe-to-toe with one of Crimson Spire's elites. She looked… smug.
"You're alive," I said, stepping closer.
"Disappointed?" she shot back, flashing me a grin that made it hard to tell if she was joking.
I folded my arms. "I came to congratulate you. And to make sure you weren't hiding a cracked rib or something worse."
She waved it off, taking a lazy sip of water. "Eh. Voltstrike hits like a truck, sure, but I've been hit by worse."
I frowned. "You didn't have to push that hard. Everyone expected you to lose—"
"Exactly." She cut me off, her eyes sharp in a way that didn't match her tone. "People needed to see that I'm not just Duskfall's gossip machine. Needed to remind certain people in the stands that I'm paying attention."
Certain people?The thought formed before I could stop it.
I stepped closer. "Ari… why did you really want that fight?"
She studied me for a long beat, her smile softening into something almost dangerous. "Because sometimes, Calla, the best way to learn about someone is to let them think they've beaten you."
Before I could ask what she meant, she pushed off the crate, closing the gap between us. "Also…" Her grin returned, wider this time. "I needed an excuse to get you back here alone. Much quieter without the crowd screaming."
I rolled my eyes. "Seriously?"
"Dead serious," she said, though the playful spark in her eyes betrayed her. "You're cute when you're worried about me."
And just like that, the sharp edge of the conversation dulled — the cryptic weight of her words tucked neatly away behind her usual teasing.
* * *
Ari still had that infuriating little smirk on her face when the next name rang out over the arena speakers.
"Equinox, representing Duskfall Academy!"
We both froze mid-banter, turning toward the sound. My stomach tightened when the second name followed.
"…versus Lady Aurelian of Crimson Spire Academy!"
Even the announcer's voice had an edge of reverence to it. Everyone knew who Lady Aurelian was — the salutatorian of Crimson Spire, dominating under three magic affinities: air, metal, and lightning. The kind of prodigy that instructors whispered about like she was a living legend.
Ari let out a low whistle. "Yikes. Guess Rhea's drawing the short straw today."
"Short straw?" I shot her a look. "That's a flaming death sentence."
"Eh, never count Equinox out." But there was no real conviction in Ari's tone.
We didn't need to discuss it — both of us were already making our way back to the stands. The crowd was a tidal wave of noise now, students and visiting guests leaning over the rails to catch a glimpse of the two who were about to face off.
We arrived just in time to see Rhea in full hero attire: sleek black-and-silver combat leathers, cape fluttering from the updraft of the arena's shields. She looked composed, her chin high, even as the ground seemed to tremble under the weight of anticipation.
"Rhea," Ari called, leaning over the railing to wave. "Try not to die too spectacularly!"
Rhea didn't even glance our way. Probably didn't hear. Or maybe she was already in that battle focus of hers.
Juno appeared behind us, quiet as a shadow, and clapped Ari on the shoulder. "Good work earlier."
Ari grinned. "Coming from you? That's basically a medal."
"Don't get comfortable," Juno replied, voice flat but not unkind. "Starting next week, your training doubles. We'll push your growth rate until you stop leaving openings like that last exchange."
Ari groaned, dragging a hand down her face. "You're cruel, Junebug."
Juno ignored her, eyes already fixed on the arena below. I couldn't help but pity Ari — though maybe not enough to volunteer myself as a sparring partner in her place.
Down in the center of the duelling stage, Rhea stepped forward to meet her opponent. Lady Aurelian was everything the rumors painted her to be — tall, regal, with hair like spun gold catching the arena lights. Her armor gleamed white and crimson, and when she raised her hand in acknowledgment, the stands erupted like they were greeting royalty.
Gravity magic versus a tri-affinity prodigy.
The tension was almost a physical thing, pressing against my chest as I watched them bow.
I leaned on the rail, my eyes locked on Rhea. You better make this interesting, I thought. Because if you don't… this might be over before it even starts.