The silence that followed the duel was heavier than any spell.
Arin Valis lay motionless near the heart of the ring, her limbs slack but breath steady, the last sparks of her lightning spell fading into the air like dying stars. Across from her, Lucien Ashford knelt on one knee, his chest rising and falling in sharp, uneven pulls. He wasn't unconscious—yet—but the toll of what he'd just done clung to him like weight in his bones.
Then came movement.
A shimmer of green light appeared at the edge of the ring, slow and spiraling, like leaves carried on a gentle breeze. A soft, soothing scent followed—spring rain and lavender. It seemed to hush the residual tension in the arena before her figure even came into view.
Professor Saelira.
