Seliah and Ryn circled one another, breaths sharp in the cool air. Ryn's palms glowed with earthen pulse, chunks of stone rising to orbit him like shields. Seliah's fingers snapped with restless arcs of lightning, each spark crawling across her skin, itching to leap.
The other children leaned forward, whispering.
"Ready?" the instructor called.
They lunged—
—then the world shifted.
Far away, in the polished chambers of the Noble Court, another boy trained. His hair fell in disheveled strands, his eyes burning with an unnatural fire. Wooden targets stood in neat rows, but none survived long.
A single glance—
Fwoosh. The targets ignited from their centers outward, collapsing into ash.
The boy frowned.
"Not hot enough."
Again, his gaze sharpened. Another row vanished, flames swallowing wood whole until nothing remained. Yet still he muttered:
"Weak."
From a balcony above, a girl stood quietly. Her hair fell like pale silk, her eyes calm yet watchful. She didn't flinch at the searing heat, nor at the murmurs of nobles behind her. She studied him—every spark, every breath.
The boy glanced up just once, meeting her gaze. His flames faltered, for the briefest moment. His jaw tightened.
"…I'll burn hotter."
The scene returned to the lower realm.
Stone hurtled forward, lightning cracked against it. The clash struck like thunder, dust bursting across the practice grounds. Children shielded their eyes until it cleared—
—and Ryn was flat on his back, coughing, his face scuffed with dirt. Seliah stood above him with sparks still dancing along her fingertips, a sharp grin cutting across her lips.
"Lightning's quicker than stone."
Ryn groaned, then laughed, rolling onto his side. "You only won once. Next time—stone buries thunder."
The instructor lifted his hand. "Winner: Seliah."
Cheers erupted. The spar ended, but the heat of rivalries only grew stronger.