The sun burned high above the Academy, caught between banners of flame and storm.
Thousands gathered across the marble terraces, their chatter thick with awe and nerves. This was the First Duel Gathering — where the newly unlocked proved their worth.
Jayden stood among them, hands tucked into his pockets, head slightly bowed. Around him shimmered the tension of raw power — unrefined, arrogant, desperate to be seen.
Kael stretched beside him, lightning whispering along his arms like playful snakes. "Don't look so grim," he said. "They call it a duel, but it's mostly theater. Flash, flair, and not dying too fast."
Jayden's eyes lifted to the vast circular arena ahead — a field ringed with glowing glyphs that shifted terrain between bouts: stone, sand, water, air currents, even storm dust. It was designed to test adaptation as much as talent. "Noted," he murmured.
Kael's Duel
The proctor's voice boomed. "First match: Kael Ardent of the Storm Province versus Dorran Michaelson of Stone!"
Cheers erupted from the stands. Apparently, the Ardent name carried weight even here.
The crowd roared. Kael grinned like he'd been waiting for applause his whole life. He stepped forward, easy, almost lazy.
Jayden leaned on the railing, watching the arena floor shift into a plateau of jagged rock. Dorran stood at the far edge, skin dusted with grit, heavy and unflinching.
"Begin!"
The air detonated into motion. Dorran slammed his fists into the ground; pillars of stone erupted upward. Kael moved before they peaked — lightning flashing beneath his boots, speed blurring his outline. He danced across the growing spires like rain skipping on glass, each step releasing a crack of thunder.
A bolt burst from his palm, colliding with Dorran's shoulder. The stone cracked. Sparks scattered. The bigger boy roared and hurled a boulder the size of a cart. Kael ducked, spun, flung another arc of lightning that shattered it midair.
It wasn't raw strength. It was rhythm — reckless grace turned lethal.
When Dorran finally fell to one knee, smoking armor and half his wall gone, Kael just grinned. "Had enough?"
The referee's hand lifted. "Victory — Kael Ardent!"
Jayden exhaled softly. The fight had been over before it started. Fluid. Fast. Unpredictable. He stored every movement in memory.
Next came Kira. The crowd's mood shifted — less rowdy, more reverent. Her crimson coat flared behind her as she walked into the arena. The field shifted again, turning the floor into cracked earth, faint heat rippling through it.
Her opponent, a lean wind aspirant, smirked. "Try not to burn yourself out, princess."
Kira said nothing. She raised a hand; fire kindled around her fingers, bright and silent.
"Begin!"
The air howled. The wind user blurred forward, his form splitting into afterimages. Kira didn't chase — she turned. The flame in her palm spiraled into a ring, flaring outward like a blooming flower. The wind cut through it, dispersing some of the fire — but the rest curved with unnatural precision, following.
The next instant, fire and air collided in a thunderclap. Jayden saw it — the way she moved inside her own flames, reading the gusts, predicting every counter. She was precise where Kael was wild. A predator that wasted nothing.
When the wind user's last dodge failed, a tendril of flame struck his shoulder, leaving a smoking mark. He dropped, panting.
Kira lowered her hand. "Surrender."
The proctor nodded. "Victory — Kira Valen."
The applause that followed was softer, almost respectful.
Jayden felt it again — the quiet thrill of recognition. He had just seen two ways to survive: chaos and control.
"Final match of the round — Jayden of Keystone versus Lorne Pyre of Flame."
Laughter rippled through the stands. "The gutter rat?" someone shouted.
Jayden stepped into the ring. The arena shifted again — half sand, half shallow water glimmering under sunlight. The smell of ozone still hung from Kael's fight.
Lorne swaggered to the center, a torch in human form. Fire licked his gauntlets, eager to burn. "You can still surrender, slum-boy. Save yourself the scars."
Jayden drew the Moonshine Blades — twin short swords forming in a slow shimmer of runic mist. The crowd quieted; even for relics, theirs had presence.
"I'll pass," Jayden said.
The whistle cut the air.
Fire roared forward. Jayden met it halfway.
He didn't attack — not yet. He studied. The rhythm of flame reminded him of Kael's lightning, erratic and hungry. He remembered Kira's precision — her patience.
Lorne thrust forward, a column of fire erupting beneath Jayden's feet. Jayden pivoted, heat singeing his arm. He slashed across the column, water bursting from his blades in a spiral that extinguished the flames midair.
The crowd gasped.
Lorne snarled, pushing harder. "You think water can save you?"
"No," Jayden said, voice calm. "I think I can."
He dropped low, sliding across the shallow water, letting it rise behind him like a mirror. When Lorne's next blast came, Jayden twisted his wrist — the water wall curved, splitting the fire apart in a hiss of steam.
He charged through it.
The first blade hit Lorne's guard, the second caught his ankle, forcing him back. Jayden pressed forward, movements fluid, relentless. The fight became rhythm — advance, redirect, strike.
Lorne stumbled, overextended. Jayden feinted left, drew moisture from the air, condensed it along his right blade until it gleamed like glass, and struck.
The edge stopped at Lorne's throat, a droplet sliding from it.
"Yield," Jayden said.
For a moment, only their breathing existed. Then Lorne dropped his gaze. "...I yield."
The arena erupted. Some cheered, some muttered. The proctor raised a hand. "Victory — Jayden of Keystone!"
Kael was grinning, clapping slow and deliberate. "Guess the rat can swim after all."
Jayden sheathed his blades, eyes cold. "I don't plan to sink again."
Kael whistled from the sidelines. "That was beautiful and terrifying."
Kira's eyes lingered on Jayden, thoughtful.
Jayden sheathed the blades. They dissolved into mist and were gone.
He felt no triumph — only stillness. The kind that came after a storm.
Adapt. Endure. Move forward.
As he left the arena, the noise behind him blurred into a hum. Above, the elemental banners shifted in the breeze, their colors bleeding together in the sunlight — flame and water, storm and calm.