The dueling arena shimmered in the morning sun, a wide circle of marble and enchanted runes etched deep into the ground. Atop the stands, students gathered like buzzards to a feast. Dueling was part sport, part spectacle at Elarion Academy—especially when royalty was involved.
Sylas stood on one side of the platform, adjusting the cuffs of his academy uniform. Mira stood just beyond the edge, her arms folded.
"Try not to bleed too dramatically," she said. "You're already infamous."
"I'll keep it subtle," Sylas muttered, then winced as the announcer's voice boomed over the arena.
"Today, we witness the match between His Royal Highness, Prince Lucien Elarion—Valedictorian of the Silver Year—and Sylas Vermund, noble heir of House Vermund and... surprise candidate."
There was a pause. Then, polite applause. Then, a louder wave of murmurs. Sylas caught snippets:
"He's the one from the woods."
"Didn't he summon a demon last week?"
"No, that was the guy *next* to him."
Lucien Elarion stepped onto the platform like he was born for it—which, of course, he was. The prince's gold-trimmed robes gleamed, his pale hair bound neatly. His staff was carved from ancient sunwood, pulsing with solar runes. Every movement screamed precision.
He smiled at Sylas. Friendly. Civil.
It made Sylas want to run.
The headmistress's voice, amplified by magic, echoed: "Begin."
---
Lucien moved first.
His opening strike was textbook brilliance: three sigils weaved into a flash-cast that launched a lance of concentrated sunlight. Sylas barely had time to conjure a reflective barrier—shaped like a spiraling mirror. It cracked but held.
Lucien didn't pause. His footwork was poetry. Every step left behind a flicker of light, like afterimages of a divine waltz.
Sylas, meanwhile, sidestepped an explosion, slipped on the marble, and narrowly avoided being vaporized.
The crowd oohed. Mira facepalmed.
Sylas gritted his teeth. *This is fine. Everything's fine.*
---
Then it happened
A flare of energy surged through Sylas—not his own, not Lucien's. Something else.
The system chimed:
> \[Hidden Trait Activated: Magus Instinct – Tactical Recall Enabled.]
Suddenly, Sylas remembered.
A sequence. A spell he had never cast—but someone had. Somewhere. Somehow. It danced in his mind like an old song.
He moved.
Sigils burst from his palm—erratic but elegant. They circled him, forming an archaic ring.
Lucien's next spell—an arc of chained radiance—collided with Sylas's new barrier and fizzled into steam. The crowd gasped.
Sylas exhaled. "Okay. That was cool."
Lucien looked intrigued. And slightly annoyed.
They clashed again—this time closer. Spells flew. Wind howled. Lightning cracked. At one point, a summoned hawk made of fire dive-bombed Sylas, and he responded by tossing a pocket dimension in its path.
It exploded into a flock of confused pigeons.
"That was intentional," Sylas lied.
Lucien narrowed his eyes. "You're… unpredictable."
"I get that a lot."
Their duel was no longer a massacre—it was a dance. Awkward. Unbalanced. But Sylas held his own. And with every strike, he learned. Or *remembered*. Like his magic was echoing someone else's footprints.
Then came the finale.
Lucien channeled a solar smite, drawing on reserves that shimmered with ancestral magic. A beam of pure judgment arced toward Sylas.
Sylas, out of clever ideas, threw up a sigil in desperation.
But it wasn't his.
The symbol carved itself into the air: a jagged crown. The same one from the tree. The same from his dreams.
The beam stopped.
Lucien's spell shattered—rebounding in midair and dissipating harmlessly.
For a long second, no one spoke.
Then the system chimed:
> \[???: Bloodline Signature Detected. Binding in Progress.]
> \[Congratulations! You've confused everyone.]
> \[New Thread Unlocked: CROWNLESS HEIR]
Sylas lowered his hand slowly. The air smelled like burnt ozone and bad decisions.
Lucien stared at him. Not in anger. In recognition.
Headmistress Althea stood.
The duel was over. No winner announced.
Just silence. And questions.
---
Mira caught up with Sylas after.
"You okay?"
"Define okay."
"You didn't die."
"Low bar."
"You summoned *that* symbol again."
"I noticed."
Mira studied him
. "Whatever this is—you should find out soon. Before it finds you first."
He nodded.
But something told him... it already had.