***
The evening arrived with relentless speed, washing away the final hours I had spent on calculations and refined tactics. Every possible vector of Nova's attack, every one of her likely responses, had been broken down into variables and integrated into dozens of simulations within my mind. Everything was calibrated with mathematical precision, and as soon as I was finished, Catherine and I departed for the magical dueling arena. The building, made of gray stone darkened by time, was a grand space intended for the official duels of senior students. Today's duel, however, was different—unofficial, which nullified the usual rules and guarantees of safety.
We stopped before the arched entrance, where the roar from the stands had become almost tangible. Catherine looked at me, and in her eyes, I saw a storm of emotions that found no outlet in words. It was time for us to part. I gave her a short nod to let her know. She only forced a smile in return, though it came out strained. "Good luck, Arta. I'll be rooting for you!" she said. Her gaze lingered on me for a few moments before she looked up at the starry sky, and then she headed for the stands.
I stood alone for a moment, took a deep breath, and was about to pass through the stone archway when I heard the sound of running behind me. "Phew, I made it!" a familiar voice said. I turned to see Olivia Briggs—out of breath, weary, her face unusually pale. She came closer and, without permission, placed a hand on my shoulder. I felt a foreign, excessive warmth. It was a violation of personal distance, but I decided not to show it, analytically noting the gesture as an attempt at emotional manipulation, though we were not friends. "Arta, I'm sure you'll win today," she said, then made her way up the stone steps to the stands.
Stepping under the archway, I felt the air change. It grew colder, denser, saturated with the echo of hundreds of voices and the faint smell of ozone—the herald of a magical storm. The noise of the crowd struck my ears, transforming from a hum into a roar. I walked quickly into the arena and scanned the stands. Nova had made sure that as many students as possible would witness her "triumph." My gaze swept over the faces of the spectators. In the front row, clutching the railing with whitened knuckles, sat Catherine. A little farther away stood Ren, her figure as taut as a string. In the shadow of an alcove, I noticed Isolde and her friends—their faces frozen in undisguised schadenfreude. Even Lilian Grace was here, hiding behind one of the distant columns.
A yellowish moon—Miga—appeared from behind the clouds, illuminating the battlefield with its cold rays. I walked toward Nova, who was waiting impatiently for me in the center of the arena. We then moved to an honorable distance from each other. I gave a slight bow, indicating my readiness to begin the duel, but Nova chose to disregard such etiquette. Her posture, that of a predator poised to strike, spoke volumes. Nova's hand flared scarlet, and a Fiery Spike—a classic of combat pyromancy—shot through the cold space, leaving a trail of sparks and smoke.
I condensed moisture from the atmosphere, mixing components of air and water into Ice Armor. At that same instant, the fiery spear struck me. The armor chimed and shattered into a myriad of crystal shards, enveloping us in a cloud of hissing steam. A disproportionately powerful blow for a simple opening move. Wasteful. Through the thinning white veil, I could already see her next move: tensed muscles, a shift of her left foot… A predictable flanking maneuver.
A Blade of Air shot from my palm, but Nova, as if dancing, deflected it with a Fan of Water. I raised my hand, and the ground beneath her feet erupted in Stone Spikes, and she, without losing her balance, wove a Barrier of Light that shattered the spikes on contact. Elegant. But I noticed a slight tremor in her wrists. Nova's breathing had become ragged, her face contorted with fury. Her rage was an inefficient fuel. Her energy expenditure was disproportionate to the result. The limit was near.
In an attempt to change something, she wove a Maelstrom of Flame—a spiral of fire that made the air crackle and melt. But I was already moving along the trajectory of her gaze. An Earthen Wall rose, absorbing the blow, while an Air Slash combined with an Aether Drain bit into her barrier like a vampire into an artery. Her eyebrow twitched, and the Barrier of Light dissolved into a thousand sparks. A loss of concentration—the harbinger of defeat.
Trying to correct her position, she created elemental spawns. Three sprang from her fingers: a Fire Wolf with fur of ash and flame, a Poison Serpent woven from stone and sand, and a Hurricane Hawk with feathers shimmering with currents of air. They rushed toward me. I responded with Order magic. Ice Shackles pierced the serpent, freezing its elemental core. The same cold extinguished the wolf's flame, turning it to dust. With another wave of my hand, I summoned a Gravitational Anchor, and the quintessence of Order and Air brought the hawk's flight crashing down upon the unyielding geometry of the earth.
Nova retreated. Her palms flashed, birthing a Solar Prism—hundreds of rays slicing through the darkness. But darkness is not the absence of light. It is its absorption. Shroud of Shadow enveloped me, and the Resonance of Order stabilized its impenetrable structure. The light died, drowning in the infinity of the shadow I had created.
In a desperate attempt to do something, Nova made her most reckless move, using a Chaos technique—Reality Distortion. Space itself, like a torn canvas, moved toward me. But I was waiting for it. The Shroud of Shadow absorbed the distortion. Realizing it was time to end this, I used the Chains of Order. Golden chains pinned her to the ground, and a Structured Void absorbed the residual magic around her. Nova roared, trying to rise, completely blinded by fury. And then, in her eyes, something alien flickered, something I had known since the beginning of time.
The next moment, everything changed. A flash appeared in the stands, one that no one noticed. A familiar pink-haired figure flicked her wrist. Something subtly shifted, as if the very air had cracked. And I felt it—the intrusion. A foreign, cloyingly sweet energy of Chaotic Light poured into Nova, like poison into wine. Her hair flashed silver. Her eyes… her eyes ceased to be human, glowing with white energy, and red sparks of Chaos danced around her, shattering my chains. Nova rose from the sand. Her inhuman laugh, devoid of any mirth, filled the arena, and reality around her began to melt.
She raised her hand, and a Distorted Supernova shot toward me in a chaotic arc. My Dark Aether Shield cracked like glass under a hammer. A Chaotic Vortex swept away my Shroud of Shadow, which had been reinforced with Order magic. The stone slabs of the arena rose in waves, the air humming with dissonant frequencies. I cast a Structured Void, but it had no effect. Nova laughed, birthing more and more spells from nothing.
All-Consuming Flame—a poisonous mixture of Chaos and Fire—licked at my shields in an insatiable vortex. Reality Ruptures forced me to retreat again and again, creating new barriers. Cracks, like a spider's web, spread across the arena. I fell back, and each step was heavier than the last. The Labyrinth of Shadows, Lightning of Order, Aether Snare—she tore through them all with ease using a Chaotic Beam. Her magic now smelled of ozone and madness, and her laugh resembled the scream of a lunatic.
The final blow came suddenly and swiftly. A spear of light—a simple spell, amplified by Chaotic Light's abilities—was like a mockery of creation itself against my very essence. It flew toward me with a whistle and sparks and, piercing my flesh, it threw my body several meters back, pinning me to the wall. Pain—a pure signal of structural failure—flooded my mind, overloading this body's perception. Blood—warm, metallic, and salty—filled my mouth. My physical body—this fragile vessel—was a testament to the fading of my mortal form. My vision began to blur, and all signals merged into a single chaotic pattern.
Nova, possessed by the energy of Chaotic Light, was preparing a final spell to destroy me, but I could not allow it: the mission was more important than anything. The decision for a countermeasure was made as the only possible outcome, one that could even kill Nova, but there was no more time for additional calculations.
"Eternal Night," I rasped, warm blood trickling down my chin.
A pillar of darkness, absolute and uncompromising, intertwined with golden chains of Order, shot toward Nova, effortlessly interrupting the spell that was meant to kill me. Chaotic Light, who had been amplifying her powers, vanished, leaving a protective spell around an uncomprehending Nova. The spell, taking the full force of my own, shattered into thousands of sparks, and Nova was thrown by the inertia to another corner of the arena, where she collapsed unconscious onto the sand.
Darkness filled my vision; strength was rapidly leaving my body. The last thing I saw was Catherine running across the arena toward me, her scream lost in the roar of the spectators. The arena, the moon, the pain, the blood, and the dark veil before my eyes carried me away in chaotic visions of the future, depriving me of peace and leaving only cold calculation without any control over myself.