The sun burned high above the Academy, caught between banners of flame and storm.
Thousands filled the marble terraces, voices blending into a restless hum. The First Duel Gathering — a spectacle where newly unlocked aspirants tested their mettle before instructors, peers, and fate.
Jayden stood among them, hands buried in his pockets, the sea-blue trim of his tunic flickering in the heat. Around him pulsed the raw, unfocused energy of hundreds of young elementalists — arrogant, anxious, electric with expectation.
Kael cracked his neck beside him, lightning whispering faintly along his arms. "Don't look so grim, Vale," he said with his usual grin. "They call it a duel, but it's mostly theater. Flash, flair… and trying not to die in front of everyone."
Jayden's gaze flicked to the massive circular arena below — a vast field etched with rotating glyphs. Each match would trigger a new terrain: stone, water, air currents, shifting sands. A true test of control.
"Noted," he murmured.
The proctor's voice thundered through the crystal amplifiers.
"First match — Kael Ardent of the Storm Province versus Dorran Michaelson of Stone!"
A roar shook the stands. Jayden could almost taste the anticipation. Kael's name carried weight — the heir to a noble lightning bloodline.
Kael only rolled his shoulders and smirked. "Showtime."
Jayden watched as the arena shimmered, the glyphs blooming into a jagged plateau of rock. Dust curled like smoke as the two opponents faced off.
"Begin!"
Stone erupted upward, a jagged forest of pillars. Kael didn't wait — he became motion, lightning cracking beneath his boots as he danced across rising spires. Each step birthed a sonic boom. Dorran swung, the ground responding with brute force — but Kael was already gone, a storm in human shape.
Dorran struck the ground — BOOM! — stone spires burst upward like fangs.
Kael blurred between them, lightning flashing from his feet. He danced across the spires like rain skipping glass, each strike cracking through stone.
A bolt lanced from his palm, shattering Dorran's shoulder armor. Sparks flared. The stone wielder grunted, retaliating with a wall of granite, but Kael vaulted over it, spinning midair.
His palm glowed white — thunder roared. The next instant, Dorran was on his knees, armor smoking.
Kael landed lightly, brushing dust from his sleeve. "Had enough?"
The referee raised a hand. "Victory — Kael Ardent!"
The stands erupted. Jayden clapped once, quietly. Kael's control wasn't just power — it was rhythm, reckless grace. He filed it away.
Next came Kira.
The atmosphere shifted — less noise, more reverence. Her crimson coat swayed as she stepped into the light, hair catching glints of flame.
The field warped again, ground cracking into dry, sun-baked earth.
Her opponent, a tall wind aspirant, smirked. "Try not to burn yourself out, princess."
Kira's reply was silence. A sphere of fire kindled in her palm, pulsing like a heartbeat.
"Begin!"
Wind shrieked. The boy vanished into motion, splitting into flickering afterimages.
Kira didn't chase. She turned slightly, guiding her flame with surgical calm. The orb fractured into threads, curving through the air like molten ribbons. The gusts cut through some — but the rest bent, followed.
A clash of flame and wind exploded midair, a shockwave of heat sweeping the terraces.
Through it, Kira moved — unhurried, lethal. Every step was measured, every strike premeditated.
Jayden watched closely. Where Kael embodied chaos, she was precision — the still flame that devoured everything slowly.
When the wind user overextended, she snapped her fingers.
A column of fire coiled upward, halting an inch from his throat.
The silence that followed was absolute.
He dropped his head. "…I surrender."
"Victory — Kira Valen."
Applause rippled, soft but full of awe.
Jayden felt it too — that pull. Control, grace, will. He had seen two paths to mastery. One wild. One exact. He wondered which would be his.
Students gathered across the marble terraces, their chatter thick with awe and nerves.
Jayden stood among them, hands in his pockets, gaze steady. To him, it wasn't pride or destiny — it was a test of survival.
The proctor's voice rose again.
"Final match — Jayden Vale of Keystone versus Lorne Pyre of Flame!"
A low laugh rolled through the stands.
"The gutter rat?" someone jeered.
Jayden didn't react. He stepped into the arena, calm, barefoot against the shifting ground. The glyphs glowed, The terrain shimmered — half sand, half shallow water reflecting the noon sun. Perfect balance between earth and flow.
The air itself shimmered with heat.
Across from him, Lorne swaggered in like a born conqueror. His armor shimmered with orange runes; flames licked from his gauntlets, curling like snakes tasting blood.
Lorne swaggered forward, wreathed in fire.
"You can still surrender, slum-boy. Save yourself the scars."
Jayden summoned the Moonshine Blades. They appeared in a swirl of silver mist — twin curved swords humming faintly, veins of azure light rippling along their edges.
"I'll pass," he said simply.
"Begin!"
The whistle cut the air.
Lorne moved first — a wall of fire roaring across the sand. Jayden's reflexes flared — he dove aside, boots splashing water. Steam exploded around him, hissing and white.
He didn't strike — not yet. His eyes tracked everything: the rhythm of Lorne's stance, the delay between strikes, the direction of his weight.
Another blast — Jayden spun, blades flashing in a crescent arc. Water followed the motion, spiraling off his swords and extinguishing the flame midair.
Gasps rippled through the stands.
Kael leaned forward, electric grin wide. "Now we're talking."
Lorne struck again — a lance of fire roaring toward Jayden's chest.
Jayden twisted aside, the blast scorching his sleeve. The next wave came faster, the sand beneath him igniting. He deflected with his blades, water bursting in arcs that hissed against the flames.
The crowd gasped — few had seen a water aspirant fight with such precision.
Jayden didn't press. He read. Studied.
Lorne's rhythm was chaos — wild, angry, predictable. Every burst carried too much force, no restraint.
"Come on!" Lorne shouted, fury dripping. Jayden's eyes narrowed. He shifted stance.
Lorne snarled, shoving his palms forward — twin fire whips snapped across the field. Jayden ducked the first, parried the second. Sparks burst around him, scorching his sleeves.
He's faster than me head-on, Jayden thought, breathing steady. Then I won't fight head-on.
He drew moisture from the shallow pool with a sweep of his hand, sending ripples that distorted Lorne's aim. Then he advanced, silent and fluid.
The first clash was a storm of motion — blade against flame, heat against flow.
Jayden's movements blended evasion and assault, conserving energy where Lorne wasted it.
Lorne gritted his teeth. "You mock me with puddle tricks?"
"Not tricks," Jayden said, stepping in close, "adjustments."
He slashed low — Lorne blocked — Jayden twisted his wrist, using the deflected motion to send a spray of water into his opponent's eyes.
For a moment, flame faltered.
Jayden's knee hit Lorne's chest — the impact sent him staggering.
But before Jayden could press, the ground split with heat. Lorne roared — his aura ignited, turning the air molten.
"Enough!"
The arena shook. Fire burst from the sand, swallowing the shallow pool. The temperature spiked — the crowd screamed, shielding their faces.
Jayden shielded his eyes. The world blurred red.
Another fireball came. He slashed — water met flame, vapor exploding between them. Steam clouded the ring.
Hidden inside it, Jayden moved.
He glided through the shallow water, letting it follow like a living thing. Lorne's next strike hit nothing but mist.
Then — crack.
Jayden's blade collided with his guard, sparks of steam scattering.
He didn't overpower. He redirected — turned Lorne's momentum, cut low, then up. Lorne stumbled, barely catching his balance.
Jayden's expression didn't change. "You're overusing your core. Burn out is close."
Lorne screamed, fire spiraling around him, wild and blinding. The crowd leaned forward — flame engulfed everything.
Then — silence.
Through the inferno, Jayden's silhouette moved. Calm. Steady.
The flames parted around him, diverted by a ring of water orbiting his form like a halo.
He raised one blade, condensed the surrounding mist into a gleaming edge, and stepped in.
Their blades clashed — hiss, strike, parry. Over and over.
Lorne's strength was fading; Jayden's precision only deepened.
Then, a faint flicker pulsed behind Jayden's left eye — the Eye of Creation stirring, unbidden.
Time stretched. The world bent. Every droplet, every spark unfolded before him — their motion, weight, flow.
He saw it all.
He blinked the vision away, forcing control. He wasn't ready for that power — not yet.
The final strike came in silence.
Jayden slipped past Lorne's guard and placed the blade at his torso,The second blade halted at his throat, droplets sliding from the edge like tears.
Silence.
Jayden's voice was soft but final. "Yield."
For a moment, the only sound was dripping water. Then Lorne's shoulders sagged. "…I yield."
The proctor's voice trembled.
"Victory — Jayden of Keystone!"
Applause broke like thunder.
Kael's laugh echoed from the stands. "Guess the rat can swim after all!"
Jayden's gaze stayed cold. "I don't plan to sink again."
He sheathed his blades; they dissolved into mist.
The noise of the arena blurred into a hum — distant, unimportant.
Above, the elemental banners rippled — flame beside water, storm beside calm — their colors bleeding together in the dying light.
Kira's eyes lingered on him, unreadable. Kael's grin widened, lightning flickering in approval.
Jayden just breathed — still, centered, unbroken.
Adapt. Endure. Flow.
The storm was only beginning.