The courtyard still hummed with the echoes of fire and water when the man called again,
"Orren, Miren—step forward."
Orren strutted into the circle, his blonde hair already bristling with static. Sparks popped faintly along his arms, the air around him charged, sharp, like the edge of a storm. He grinned wide, shooting a glance at the children. "Watch closely—this is how you win fast."
Miren followed more heavily, shoulders broad, steps deliberate. Dust crunched beneath his boots, and as he planted himself, his palms pressed to the ground. A dull rumble vibrated through the courtyard, small stones rising from the dirt to orbit him like lazy satellites.
The air split with tension before the man even said, "Begin."
Orren wasted no time—he raised a hand, and lightning forked from his fingertips, jagged, bright, tearing toward Miren.
But the earth answered. A wall of stone erupted between them, the strike cracking across it, leaving only blackened scars.
"Too slow!" Orren barked, dashing to the side, another bolt forming. This time he aimed high, striking over the wall. The flash seared across the courtyard, forcing some children to shield their eyes.
Miren barely flinched. He slammed his fists into the ground, and two stone pillars shot up, intercepting the arc. The smell of burnt rock filled the air.
The duel was loud, violent. Lightning lashed in jagged patterns; earth rose to block, break, and shove back. Every strike shook the ground, every counter filled the air with sparks and dust.
"Lightning's too fast," one child whispered.
"Stone doesn't need to be fast," another muttered back. "It just needs to last."
Kairo watched silently, his expression blank. Igron, however, chuckled.
"This is the fun part—two idiots beating each other until one gets tired."
Orren's movements grew sharper, more reckless. Sparks trailed behind him as he sprinted in circles, striking from every angle, his voice loud with the thrill of battle. Miren weathered it, sweat dripping, his walls and spikes rising again and again, each one chipped away by Orren's relentless storm.
Finally, Orren pushed for the finish. He leapt, lightning surging down both arms, a wild roar escaping his throat.
Miren met him with a final act—slamming the ground with both fists. A massive stone hand erupted from the earth, catching Orren mid-air like a fly in a closing fist.
The lightning exploded inside the grip, shattering the stone, but the force hurled Orren across the dirt. He hit the ground, rolling, smoke rising faintly from his clothes.
Silence, then cheers.
Miren stood hunched, breathing heavy, but still on his feet. Orren lay grinning through the dust, groaning but laughing all the same.
"Fine… fine… you got me."
The mistress above leaned further against the rail, her eyes narrow. They're stronger than I expected. Even the common ones.