The rest of the day and the one after passed in a blur of uncomfortable silence and forced normalcy. Lance—I had to stop thinking about him as Finn—moved through our shared spaces like a ghost haunting his own life. He'd wake up before Gavril and me, slip out for meals when we weren't around, and return to the dormitory only when absolutely necessary. When our paths did cross, the air between us crackled with unspoken words and unresolved hurt.
I threw myself into studying with Gavril, poring over theoretical magical frameworks and combat applications that might prove useful in Level Three. The books provided a welcome distraction from the elephant in the room, or rather, the broken friendship that sat between Lance's bed and mine like a physical barrier.
"The Confluence Theory suggests that when multiple magical disciplines intersect under stress, they can create hybrid effects that exceed the sum of their parts," Gavril read aloud from Advanced Collaborative Spellwork, his finger tracing the dense text. "That's essentially what happened when you and Valentina worked together during the Identity Blender."
I nodded, making notes in the margins of my own copy. "Makes sense. Your spatial manipulation combined with my chaos field created those reality fractures that confused the attackers."
"Exactly." Gavril paused, glancing toward Lance's empty bed. "Though I suspect we'll need to understand these principles even better for Level Three, especially if..."
He didn't finish the sentence, but I knew what he meant. Especially if we ended up on a team with Lance. The thought made my stomach churn.
That evening, Elias appeared at our dormitory door with his usual impeccable timing and a silver tea service that definitely violated several Academy regulations about unauthorized magical items in student quarters.
"Gentlemen," he said, settling into the chair Gavril had conjured with a spatial fold. "I trust you're prepared for tomorrow's festivities?"
"As prepared as we can be without knowing what we're walking into," I replied, accepting the cup of tea he offered. It tasted like liquid hope and somehow made my probability field feel more stable.
Elias's eyes gleamed with that familiar expression of someone holding valuable information. "Level Three traditionally focuses on collaborative magical application under pressure. Teams are formed through random selection, though 'random' at the Academy often has its own peculiar interpretations."
Gavril leaned forward. "Random? As in, we might not be working together?"
"Indeed. The Academy believes that true magical mastery requires the ability to work effectively with anyone, not just your chosen companions." Elias sipped his tea delicately. "The challenges typically involve both defensive and offensive scenarios, testing not only individual skill but group cohesion, strategic thinking, and the ability to adapt quickly to unfamiliar magical disciplines."
I swallowed hard, thinking about how spectacularly our group cohesion had collapsed. "Any advice for working with... difficult teammates?"
Something flickered in Elias's expression, sympathy, perhaps, or understanding. "The most successful teams are those that view their differences as advantages rather than obstacles. A chaos mage and an order mage, for instance, might seem incompatible, but their opposing natures can create extraordinary synergies when properly channeled."
He stood, vanishing the tea service with a casual gesture. "Remember, Asher, sometimes the greatest challenges aren't the ones the Academy designs for us. They're the ones we create for ourselves."
After he left, Gavril and I sat in contemplative silence until Lance returned from wherever he'd been hiding. The three of us prepared for bed with the mechanical efficiency of people desperately avoiding meaningful conversation.
I lay awake long into the night, staring at the ceiling and trying not to think about how everything had changed.
****
Tournament day arrived with typical Academy flair, which is to say, I woke up to Bloombastic's voice echoing through the dormitory's communication crystals at an ungodly hour.
"RISE AND PHOTOSYNTHESIZE, my delightful little saplings! Today marks the beginning of Level Three, where teamwork makes the dream work, and individual glory gets mulched into collective compost!"
Gavril groaned, pulling his pillow over his head. "Why does he always sound so cheerful about everything?"
"Because he's a plant," I muttered, rolling out of bed and immediately stubbing my toe on the desk chair that definitely hadn't been there the night before. "Plants are naturally optimistic. It's the whole 'turning sunlight into energy' thing."
Lance was already gone, his bed made with military precision. Part of me wondered if he'd slept at all, or if he'd spent the night pacing the common areas like some sort of guilty specter.
The walk to the Equinox Nexus felt different this time. The usual pre-tournament nervous energy was tempered by an undercurrent of exhaustion, two grueling levels had already eliminated nearly a third of the original participants, and the remaining students moved with the careful wariness of survivors rather than eager competitors.
The Nexus itself had transformed yet again. The floating platforms had reorganized into what looked like miniature battlefields, complete with fortified positions, tactical terrain features, and objectives that glowed with various magical signatures. Some platforms resembled medieval castles, others looked like futuristic command centers, and at least one appeared to be constructed entirely from what looked like crystallized music.
Professor Zephyr materialized on the central platform with his characteristic theatrical flair, while Bloombastic sprouted up beside him, tentacle-vines waving enthusiastically at the crowd.
"Welcome, welcome, my persistent little catastrophes!" Zephyr's voice carried easily across the vast space. "You've survived the academic gauntlet of Level One, navigated the psychological labyrinth of Level Two, and now you face the ultimate test of collaborative magical prowess, Level Three!"
"That's right, Professor Zephyr!" Bloombastic chimed in, somehow managing to sound both pompous and endearing. "Today we separate the solitary saplings from the mighty forest! Because let's face it, even the mightiest oak needs good root-neighbors to weather the storm!"
The crowd of spectators seemed larger than ever, with several viewing sections I didn't recognize from previous levels. I spotted familiar faces in the student section, former competitors who'd been eliminated but had stayed to watch the final rounds.
"Level Three consists of two consecutive challenges," Zephyr continued, his excitement building. "First, you'll face a Tower Defense scenario, where teams must protect their assigned base against increasingly dangerous magical constructs. Cooperation, resource management, and tactical adaptation will determine your survival."
"But wait, there's more!" Bloombastic interjected with the enthusiasm of a carnival barker. "Should you survive the defensive phase, you'll immediately transition to Capture the Flag, a delightful little exercise in offensive strategy, territorial control, and the fine art of magical theft!"
Nervous laughter rippled through the student section. I caught sight of Lance standing with a group of other competitors, his shoulders tense and his gaze carefully avoiding our direction.
"Teams will be randomly selected through our patented Academy-approved probability matrices," Zephyr announced, gesturing toward a massive crystalline device that had materialized beside him. It looked like a combination between a slot machine and a gravitational singularity. "Each team will consist of three members, drawn based on ranks, not year levels; to ensure interesting combinations!"
The probability matrix began to spin, its crystalline facets catching the Nexus's swirling light and refracting it into patterns that made my eyes water. Names appeared and disappeared in its depths like fish swimming through liquid thoughts.
"Our first team formation begins... now!" Zephyr called out.
The matrix's spinning intensified, accompanied by what sounded like celestial wind chimes having an argument with a thunderstorm. Names flickered faster and faster before suddenly crystallizing into solid golden text that hung in the air.
"Team Alpha!" Bloombastic announced. "Finn Thorne of House Currently-Not-Dead-Yet!"
Lance stepped forward, his face carefully neutral despite the plant's mangled version of his fake House name. A section of one platform lit up in blue light, indicating his assigned position.
"Caelum Nox of House... uh..." Bloombastic's voice trailed off as he apparently tried to remember something that kept slipping from his memory. "Well, young Nox, whoever you are!"
I watched as a figure I could barely keep track of moved toward the platform. Even knowing Caelum was there, my attention kept sliding away from him like water off glass.
"And their third teammate, Marcus Stormwind, second-year specializing in weather manipulation!"
A confident-looking older student with storm-cloud gray hair joined the other two on their platform. I could see Lance trying to introduce himself, though his body language remained stiff and uncomfortable.
"Fascinating combination!" Zephyr observed. "Stealth, elemental control, and meteorological warfare, either a perfectly balanced team or a recipe for spectacular disaster!"
The matrix spun again, its mechanical symphony building to another crescendo.
"Team Beta!" Bloombastic declared. "Gavril Moridian, master of spatial folding and theoretical impossibilities!"
My friend stepped forward with characteristic scholarly composure, though I caught the slight nervous swallow that betrayed his anxiety. His platform lit up in green.
"Iris Thistledown, artificer extraordinaire and commander of mechanical mayhem!"
Iris moved to join Gavril with her usual purposeful stride, steam already beginning to rise from her equipment pack. I saw her immediately begin discussing something with Gavril, probably strategic applications of combined spatial manipulation and steam-powered technology.
"And completing Team Beta, Helena Brightwater, second-year specializing in defensive ward construction and barrier magic!"
A serious-looking girl with silver-threaded hair joined Gavril and Iris. She carried herself with the confidence of someone accustomed to being the last line of defense, and I noticed her already examining the tactical layout of their assigned battlefield.
"Oh, this is delicious!" Zephyr rubbed his hands together gleefully. "Engineering brilliance, spatial mechanics, and impenetrable defenses, a team that could probably build a fortress while sitting inside it!"
I felt a mixture of pride and concern watching Gavril interact with his new teammates. He looked more animated than he had in days, probably thrilled to work with Iris on magical engineering problems. At least one of us was getting a good team assignment.
I just hoped that when my turn came, I'd be ready for whatever impossible combination the Academy's "random" selection process had in store for me.