The morning sun had already crested the eastern cliffs, shedding amber hues across the Academy's duel court. It was shaped like a vast courtyard with weathered stone tiles, marred by decades of combat. Erevan stood at its edge, adjusting the straps of his gloves. His sword was sheathed on his hip, the hilt sleek and well-worn.
Noir stood beside him, arms folded. His eyes examining Erevan.
"You're not wearing armor," He said, his tone light but edged with concern.
Erevan cracked his neck. "It's for momentum."
He arched a brow. "Momentum?"
"Armor slows me down. I can't afford that against a lightning mage."
Before Noir could reply, a voice echoed across the courtyard. The Overseer, a robed mage with a silver circlet and eyes filled an uncontrollable bloodlust, stepped into the center and raised an ornate artifact—a crystalline arch wrapped in engraved runes. He chanted in the Dyarian tongue, and the artifact responded, casting a luminous arc across the sky.
The Grand Arch activated.
A pulse spread through the courtyard. The ground shifted, pillars rose from beneath, and arcane boundaries shimmered into being around the perimeter. The air thickened with magic as the courtyard transformed into a proper arena. A coliseum of stone.
Erevan stepped forward, crossing into the boundary, his boots echoing against stone.
At the far end, Tirian Caldwyn appeared—elegant in deep blue robes, crackling with violet arcs of electricity. His staff glowed, and his confidence was palpable. A favorite of the Academy's elite, and a well-known golden boy of the Council's younger candidates.
The crowd filled the stands, buzzing with anticipation. They chanted Tirian's name as nobles and commoners alike watched eagerly.
Noir moved to his seat, his gaze fixed on Erevan.
On a higher platform, Celestine sat beside Rennar. She looked composed, her expression unreadable.
Rennar leaned in. "So that's your brother, and Mr Tirian."
Celestine nodded once. "Tirian is good, even for an apprentices mage. Precise. He doesn't waste motion."
"You think Erevan stands a chance?" Rennar smirked.
Celestine's lips curled ever so slightly. "Erevan's beyond him, just observe. You'll come to learn why I want him on the council."
Rennar raised an eyebrow.
Celestine added, "Even I don't know the full scope of his strength, It's better having his alliance."
The Overseer raised his hand and a great silence graced the arena. "Begin."
A thunderclap sounded in the distance.
Tirian wasted no time. His staff spun, summoning a ring of lightning bolts that circled him. With a flick, he hurled one at Erevan, who barely moved, letting it strike a pillar behind him.
"Active casting, using one spell in a defensive and offensive, back and forth pattern."
Erevan began to move slowly, weaving between the pillars. His body lowered, shoulders loose, posture unreadable. He wasn't even holding his sword yet.
Tirian launched more bolts. They carved arcs of heat and light through the air, striking stone and setting dust ablaze. He moved like a conductor commanding a storm.
"He's getting anxious. He's going on the offensive."
Erevan's movements were like whispers in wind. Close. Near invisible. He used the environment, making noise in one place and appearing in another. It was psychological warfare.
"He's been kicking up quite the dust. He can't ascertain my location."
"You're not as fast as they said," Erevan called from behind a pillar.
Tirian sneered, shifting his stance. "You're just stalling."
"Am I?" Erevan said from another direction.
A bolt lashed out—nothing. Tirian turned, frustration mounting.
"You really thought you had a chance?" Erevan's voice echoed again. "I can tell, you never bothered to learn anything about me. Not that there was much to learn. How are you going to go about the idea of besting me?"
"Why don't you come out and see." Tirian responded.
Erevan laughed softly. "Ok,"
Another bolt shot into at the figure of darkness.
The crowd roared for Tirian. He walked closer to the shadow, his magic flaring brighter with each step.
Celestine only watched quietly.
"He fell for it," she said as looked at Rennar.
Rennar frowned. "Fell for what?"
"I've witnessed many fall for that. Even I use that tactic from time to time."
Tirian halted, realizing the arena had grown quiet. He turned—
—and Erevan stepped into view, sword now drawn, its metal reflecting the blue radiant glow of the electric orbs in his path. Lightning danced along the blade.
"Here," Erevan said, as he adopted a lower stance. And with an upward slash, his blade seemed to dispelled the magic. As he was about to land the finishing blow,from his staff a shockwave was released. Erevan blocks it and it knockes him back creating a bigger dust storm.
"This is bad,my timing was off."
Tirian growled, raising his staff and channeling power into a massive orb of lightning. It pulsed violently, then exploded outward in a shockwave, sending debris flying.
"Advanced magic! I didn't want to use this."
Erevan raised his sword—
—he plunged it intothe ground.
And from the sword an unseen, shockwave blasted dispersing Tirian's initial spell.
Tirian screamed, forcing more energy into this spell. The ground trembled as he prepared a wide-area pulse to knock Erevan back. It was his last stand.
Erevan's eyes narrowed.
With a roar, Tirian gathered a huge amount of aether.
—but Erevan leaped forward swift swing of his sword.
The spell collapsed.
And in the same breath—
Erevan's sword cleaved forward—
—shattering Tirian's staff and slicing across his arm, cutting through to the bone.
Tirian screamed, stumbling back, clutching the stump.
The arena fell into silence.
The Overseer raised a hand, stunned. "The duel is over."
Erevan exhaled, sheathing his sword. The Grand Arch shimmered once more, and the arena reverted to its natural state.
Tirian collapsed, unconscious.
The crowd gasped, too stunned to cheer.
Rennar looked pale. "That... that was—"
Celestine's gaze never left the field.
"That's why he's called the Mage Slayer," she said.
Erevan exited the courtyard quietly, Noir meeting him at the edge.
"That was overkill," He muttered.
"He that a good workout," Erevan replied.
Noir nodded, falling into step beside him as the murmurs of the crowd followed them like a fading storm.
And in the stands, Celestine's thoughts stirred—not with concern, but with a sense of inevitability.
Erevan had returned.
And the Academy will fall into chaos.