The Academy of Arcane Arts was abuzz with excitement. Banners lined the hallways, students whispered strategies, and the whole school seemed to be consumed with anticipation. The annual Arcane Ranking Tournament was no ordinary event. Every student, regardless of their standing, was required to participate, fighting to secure ranks that defined status for the rest of the year.
Zaryth sat at the edge of a long bench in the student lounge, listening half-heartedly to the chatter around him. His siblings were already discussing the event.
"This tournament is everything," Nico chirped excitedly. "A chance to show off our skills and climb ranks!"
Ruby, Zaryth's twin sister, nudged him with her elbow. "You should give it your best too. It's about participation more than winning." She tried to sound encouraging, but Zaryth could feel the pity hidden beneath her words.
Dorian, their older brother, snorted. "Participation is just an excuse for the weak. No point showing up if you don't win."
Mavuika leaned against the wall nearby, arms folded. "If nothing else, try not to embarrass yourself, Zaryth." She gave him a half-smirk, but there was an undercurrent of seriousness in her tone.
Zaryth clenched his fists. Humiliation—that was all anyone expected from him, even his own family. His stomach twisted painfully at the thought of fighting before the crowd, especially with Elysia Silverlight, his prestigious older sister, sitting among the spectators.
---
The Arena and the Opening Matches
The arena was packed. Spectators cheered wildly from the stands as names were called, and students walked onto the battlegrounds to duel. Commentators shouted over the roar of the crowd, hyping up the matchups and calling attention to exceptional fighters.
"And next, we have Arius Stormshield versus Kellen Drake! A battle of brute strength and finesse—place your bets!"
Lightning and fire clashed on the battlefield, dazzling the crowd. Students fought fiercely to prove their worth, summoning spells, unleashing elemental magic, and showing off their combat prowess.
Zaryth sat in the waiting area, watching from the sidelines, his heart hammering in his chest. The swirling energy of the fights made his fingers itch. He could feel the strange purple particles flickering just beyond his reach, the power in his second core nudging at the edges of his consciousness.
What if I could use it this time? Zaryth thought. Even just a little...
---
Zaryth's Worst Nightmare Came true
"And now for an exciting twist!" The commentator's voice rang out. "In the next match, we have an unexpected pairing—Sirus Glacius versus Zaryth Silverlight!"
The crowd exploded with laughter. People muttered in disbelief, some openly mocking the matchup.
"Poor Zaryth."
"Dead before the fight even starts!"
"Glacius will bury him."
Dorian gave a low whistle. "Bad luck, little brother. Try not to die out there."
Ruby shot him a worried glance. "Zaryth, you don't have to—"
"I have no choice," Zaryth cut her off, his jaw clenched. "It's mandatory."
Mavuika raised an eyebrow. "If I were you, I'd stay down after the first hit."
Zaryth said nothing. His hands were shaking slightly as he stepped into the arena, the weight of hundreds of eyes pressing down on him. His family, Mavuika, the entire student body—everyone was watching, expecting him to fail.
Sirus stood at the opposite end of the arena, a smug smile on his face. The Ice King had earned his nickname for good reason. His icy aura shimmered like frost in the air, his cold blue eyes fixed on Zaryth with contempt.
"You should've just stayed home, Archeon," Sirus called across the arena, cracking his knuckles. "It would've saved you the humiliation."
The signal to start rang through the air, and before Zaryth could think, Sirus was already moving.
Focus, Zaryth. Focus!
Zaryth tried to tap into his second core, closing his eyes for the briefest moment. The purple particles danced in his vision, swirling like threads of space. He reached for them desperately, trying to manipulate the flow of power.
For a split second, it felt like he had succeeded. The particles responded, bending to his will. Time seemed to slow, and Zaryth felt a rush of confidence.
But then—pain.
Blood surged from his nose, and his legs buckled beneath him. He coughed violently, collapsing to his knees.
Sirus didn't hesitate. A cold blast of magic surged toward Zaryth, slamming into him and sending him sprawling across the ground.
The crowd erupted in laughter.
"Pathetic!"
"Can't even stand!"
Zaryth groaned, struggling to get up, but Sirus was already on him. With an icy grin, Sirus summoned a shard of ice and pinned Zaryth down, pressing the tip to his throat.
"This is where you belong," Sirus sneered. "On the ground, like a failure."
The match ended with Sirus standing victorious, his foot on Zaryth's chest. The crowd roared with approval, cheering Sirus's name.
In the stands, Zaryth's family sat in silence. Elysia Silverlight, his older sister, shook her head in disappointment, her silver hair shimmering under the sunlight.
"Why did he even bother?" she muttered, loud enough for the nearby students to hear. "He's embarrassing himself."
Dorian crossed his arms, looking away in frustration. Ruby bit her lip, her hands clenched tightly in her lap. Even Nico, who usually idolized Zaryth, looked confused and hurt by his brother's failure.
Mavuika watched the scene unfold, her expression unreadable. For once, she didn't offer a sarcastic comment.
The Walk of Shame
Zaryth limped out of the arena, his heart heavy with humiliation. He could still hear the echoes of laughter, the taunts and jeers following him like a shadow.
When he reached the gates of his family's estate, his legs finally gave out. He sank to the ground, burying his face in his hands. The weight of failure was crushing.
At dinner, the atmosphere was tense. His mother placed a plate of food in front of him, but Zaryth couldn't bring himself to eat. His siblings were silent, their expressions a mixture of disappointment and pity.
"Why didn't you try harder?" Elysia asked coldly. "You're an Silverlight. You should act like it."
Zaryth's father sighed, rubbing his temples. "This is becoming a pattern, Zaryth. You need to find a way to improve, or..."
"Or what?" Zaryth snapped, the bitterness in his voice surprising even himself.
"Enough," his mother said gently, placing a hand on his shoulder. "You need rest."
---
The Night's Reflection
Zaryth lay in his bed, staring at the ceiling, the events of the day playing over and over in his mind. The humiliation, the disappointment, the helplessness.
I had the power. I touched it, I know I did...
But it wasn't enough. No matter how hard he tried, it always slipped away, just beyond his reach.
The moonlight filtered through his window, casting a soft glow over the room. Zaryth clenched his fists under the blankets, his mind swirling with frustration and anger.
He knew that something was awakening within him—something powerful and ancient. But he had no idea how to control it, or if he ever could.
As he drifted off to sleep, a single thought echoed in his mind:
I can't keep failing. Not again.
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