The sterile white walls of the Arcana Academia medbay felt like a stark contrast to the heat and chaos of the arena. Rylan lay on a cot, her breathing shallow and ragged. The once vibrant crimson and sapphire of her robes now hung limply, tattered and singed. A team of healers, clad in white tunics, hovered over her, their faces etched with a mixture of concern and determination.
Elian, along with Drake, Kyle, Marcus, Marco, Hera and Res, stood awkwardly by the door. Kyle, his transmutation friend with a perpetually worried frown, bounced nervously on his heels, his gaze glued to Rylan. Res, the ever-pragmatic water mage, kept her hands clasped tightly, her lips pursed in a thin line. Elian felt a lump form in his throat. He had seen Rylan injured before, but never like this. But a smile tugged at his lips. Why was he trying to smile.
"How is she?" Drake finally blurted out, his voice barely a whisper.
One of the healers, a kindly woman with silver hair, looked up from her work. "She's lost a lot of magical energy," she explained, her voice calm and reassuring. "Those burns are quite severe, but they won't be life-threatening."
Elian felt a wave of relief wash over him. "Can we see her?" Hera asked, her voice steady.
"Just for a moment," the healer replied, gesturing towards the cot. They approached Rylan cautiously. Her face was pale, the fiery red hair now a dull auburn from the remnants of smoke and ash. Even unconscious, she grimaced in pain as the healers worked on a particularly bad burn on her arm.
"Rylan," Elian whispered, his voice thick with emotion.
Marcus knelt beside her cot and gently brushed a stray strand of hair from her forehead. "You scared the living daylights out of us," he said softly, a hint of a smile playing on his lips.
Rylan's eyelids fluttered open, revealing a flicker of recognition. "Hey," she croaked, her voice hoarse. "I... I think I overdid it a bit."
Marco chuckled softly. "A bit? You nearly vaporized the entire arena floor!"
Elian's cheeks burned as he realized he must have been staring. He quickly looked away, focusing on the floor tiles. A moment later, he felt a warmth settle on his hand. He looked up to see Rylan's gaze fixed on him, a small smile playing on her lips. Their eyes met, and for a fleeting moment, Elian felt a jolt of something he couldn't quite place. His own eyes must have widened because Rylan's smile widened too.
"Elian," she whispered, her voice barely audible. "You okay?"
He stammered, momentarily flustered. "Y-yeah, I'm fine. Just... glad you're alright." Rylan's eyes crinkled at the corners. "Thanks," she said, then winced as the healer prodded a burn on her shoulder. "Ow! Maybe a little less enthusiastic there?"
Elian and his friends exchanged amused glances. The tension in the room seemed to dissipate, replaced by a sense of camaraderie and relief. Elian felt a wave of warmth spread through him, something more than just the warmth of the healing magic that permeated the room. Rylan, despite the pain and exhaustion, still held a spark of defiance in her eyes, a testament to the fiery spirit that had always defined her.
"You fought like a lion out there," Res finally said, her voice filled with admiration. "Even Flint was impressed."
Rylan's brow furrowed slightly. "Even Flint?" she rasped.
Kyle chuckled. "He practically carried you out of the arena himself. Looked like he was about to vaporize anyone who dared to look at you funny."
Rylan's cheeks flushed a faint pink. "Well, he did try to vaporize me first," she said with a weak grin.
They sat with her for a while longer, talking about the fight, exchanging jokes, and offering well-wishes. Even though she hadn't won, Rylan's performance had been the talk of the arena. She had pushed the Sunfire Champion to his limits, and that was something to be proud of.
As visiting hours ended, Elian lingered for a moment, his gaze lingering on Rylan's sleeping form. He felt a hand on his shoulder. It was Drake.
"You coming, buddy?" he asked gently.
Elian nodded, offering Rylan one last glance. Her eyes fluttered open momentarily, meeting his. A ghost of a smile played on her lips. Elian turned and walked away, a warmth blooming in his chest that had nothing to do with the healing magic. He couldn't explain it,but he knew one thing for sure: the Arcana tournament had changed something. It had brought him closer to Rylan, forged in the crucible of worry and the shared thrill of witnessing her incredible display of power.
But he couldn't leave her alone. So as quickly as he started walking he turned back.
Rylan, though well on her way to recovery, wasn't cleared for the final fight of the Grand Arcana tournament He couldn't help but feel a pang of disappointment. Today's matchup, Cyrus of the Ironclad Duchy, a master of time manipulation, versus Marcella of the Silvercrest Dominion, a renowned water mage, promised to be a spectacle.
The medbay door whooshed open with a hiss as Elian approached. Rylan, propped up against pillows, greeted him with a tired smile. "Didn't you want to see Cyrus' fight?" she asked, her voice hoarse.
"I did," he admitted, setting down a basket filled with fresh fruit. "But I also wanted to see you."
A faint blush crept up her cheeks. "Sweet talker," she teased, plucking a plump grape from the basket.
Elian chuckled. "Just being honest," he said, settling into a chair beside her cot. "Seriously though, are you sure you can't sneak out for a bit?"
Rylan snorted. "Trust me," she said, "the last thing anyone needs is a half-healed fireball whizzing past their head during a time manipulation fight."
He knew she was right. Time magic, with its ability to slow, speed up, or even rewind time in short bursts, was notoriously unpredictable. Even the most skilled water mage could be caught off guard.
Silence settled between them for a moment, broken only by the rhythmic beeping of a nearby monitor. "So," Elian finally began, "what do you think of the matchup?"
Rylan furrowed her brow. "Cyrus is ruthless," she admitted. "He'll exploit any opening with his time magic. Marcella, on the other hand, is all about control. It'll come down to who can outmaneuver the other."
Elian nodded, picturing the two combatants. Cyrus, a hulking figure clad in heavy armor, rumored to be able to slow down time around him to create near-impenetrable defenses. And Marcella, a graceful woman with flowing blue robes, known for her ability to conjure and manipulate intricate water constructs.
"You know," Rylan added, her voice thoughtful, "Cyrus might underestimate Marcella. Water is surprisingly versatile, especially in the hands of a skilled mage."
Elian smiled. Even injured, Rylan couldn't resist analyzing a good fight. He leaned back in his chair, picturing the spectacle unfolding in the arena. He could almost hear the roar of the crowd, smell the acrid tang of magic in the air.
Suddenly, a tremor ran through the floor, followed by a distant, muffled roar. Elian and Rylan exchanged a startled glance.
"What was that?" Rylan asked, her voice laced with concern.
Elian shrugged, his unease growing. Just then, a healer hurried through the door, her face etched with worry. "The final match," she announced breathlessly. "Cyrus… he used a temporal distortion field too large. Part of the arena…"
Her voice trailed off, her eyes wide with fear. Even through the sterile walls of the medbay, Elian could sense the growing panic in the air. Rylan's eyes widened in alarm. This wasn't just a spectacle anymore. It was a disaster.
The sterile white walls of the medbay did little to contain the escalating tension. Rylan gripped the edge of the cot, her eyes blazing with a mix of concern and frustration. "They can't just leave them there!" she exclaimed, her voice ragged but firm.
Elian, his heart pounding in his chest, reached out and squeezed her hand gently. "They're working on it," he reassured, though his own voice lacked conviction. The healer who had brought the news had already rushed back to the arena, leaving them with only a chilling image hanging in the air.
A moment later, the faint strains of frantic voices and the rhythmic thump of boots filled the corridor outside. A young Arcana mage, his face pale and streaked with sweat, burst into the room.
"The temporal distortion field is collapsing!" he panted, addressing the healer who was now frantically tending to a worried-looking student. "They need to evacuate the affected area immediately, or..." he trailed off, his voice choked with emotion.
Rylan's face hardened. "Get me out of here," she commanded, her voice surprisingly strong despite the strain evident in her posture.
The young mage and the healer exchanged a hesitant glance. "But your injuries..." the healer began, worry etched on her brow.
"There's no time for that!" Rylan interjected, her voice laced with urgency. "People are in danger. I can help."
A flicker of admiration sparked in the young mage's eyes. He nodded curtly. "Alright," he said, a hint of determination creeping into his voice. "We'll get you there."
With careful coordination, they managed to transfer Rylan to a mobile stretcher. Elian, adrenaline coursing through his veins, grabbed her bag of belongings and followed them out of the medbay.
The normally bustling hallways were eerily deserted. An oppressive silence hung in the air, punctuated only by the distant, muffled shouts echoing from the arena. As they hurried towards the commotion, Elian caught glimpses of panicked students and frantic professors rushing past.
The closer they got to the arena, the more pronounced the distortion became. The air shimmered, sounds seemed to stretch and compress unnaturally, the world around them a warped reflection of reality. The young mage, with a muttered incantation, erected a protective bubble around Rylan, shielding her from the worst of the temporal anomaly.
As they entered the coliseum, the sight that greeted them was a scene of utter chaos. Chunks of the arena floor were missing, replaced by swirling vortexes of distorted time. Spectators closest to the affected area were trapped, frozen in mid-motion, their expressions contorted in silent screams.
In the center of the arena, Cyrus stood frozen, his massive form encased in a sphere of shimmering light. His time manipulation spell, intended to be a spectacle, had backfired spectacularly, trapping not only his opponent, Marcella, but a portion of the audience as well.
Elian felt a surge of nausea as he witnessed the horrifying tableau. But amidst the chaos, a single figure stood defiant. Marcella, the water mage, hovered a few feet above the ground, her blue robes swirling around her like a whirlwind. A wall of shimmering water surrounded her, shielding her and seemingly slowing the temporal distortion in her immediate vicinity.
"Marcella!" The young mage called out, his voice barely audible above the distorted soundscape.
The water mage turned her head, a flicker of recognition crossing her features. With a sharp gesture, she manipulated the water around her, creating a small, swirling vortex that pulled Elian, the young mage, and the stretcher carrying Rylan towards her.
"Help me release Cyrus," she shouted, her voice strained but clear. "His magic is feeding the distortion!"
Rylan, despite her injuries, nodded vigorously. "I have an idea," she rasped, her eyes gleaming with a spark of determination.
As Marcella lowered them to a safe distance, Elian could see the intricate runes etched on the water barrier surrounding her. It was a powerful containment field, but it wouldn't hold for long.
Rylan, with Elian's help, sat up on the stretcher. Ignoring the throbbing pain in her arms, she focused her energy. It wasn't a controlled blaze of fire this time, nor a swirling vortex of lightning. Instead, a soft, white light emanated from her outstretched palms.
The light, unlike anything Elian had ever seen, flowed towards Marcella's barrier. It danced across the water runes, amplifying their power, stabilizing the containment field as well as dampening the temporal distortion spreading from Cyrus.
"It's working!" the young mage exclaimed, his voice filled with awe.
Marcella nodded, a grateful smile flickering across her face. With renewed focus, she began weaving her own magic, creating a series of intricate water constructs that slowly, cracking the sphere and Cyrus came crashing out onto the floor and the spectators unfrozen and the missing parts of the Arena were back.
"You did it" exclaimed Elian hugging Rylan.
"Try not to squeeze my shoulders " she said straining in pain.
She had done it,with this mysterious light of hers she had done it and saved countless lives.