The aftermath of Zane's battle lingered in his muscles like echoes of thunder. Every breath felt heavier now, every step slower, as if the air itself pressed down on him. He sat alone in the contestant rest chamber, half in shadow, cloak wrapped loosely around him.
The faint hum of distant magic duels echoed beyond the stone walls, but here, there was stillness. Silence.
Until the door opened.
She stepped in like a breeze.
Light-footed, casual, and utterly unbothered by the gravity that hung in the room, the girl's presence was like stepping outside after a storm. Her hair, a soft mix of seafoam and silver, flowed behind her in a braided tail. A ribbon fluttered with it—enchanted, by the way it caught no wind yet danced anyway.
Zane's eyes narrowed. "You're not a healer."
"Nope," she said cheerily, clasping her hands behind her back. "I'm just... curious."
He raised an eyebrow.
She gave a mock curtsy. "Sera Windgrave. From the Sky Isles. Winner of Match Twelve. Class of Whirlwind Descent." She bead. "And you must be Zane, Void Slayer, Hope Crusher, Slayer of Final Judgent, Destroyer of Lucias—"
"Please stop."
Sera laughed—a musical, breezy sound. "Okay, okay. Sorry. I just... wow. What you did out there? That was insane. Everyone felt it. You unraveled a Caelorian core spell like it was cotton string."
Zane leaned back, sighing. "Yeah. And now House Whitecrest probably wants dead."
Sera shrugged. "Pfft. Probably. But that's half the fun, right?"
He blinked.
She sat beside him without asking, her presence light but persistent. "I watched your match. From the upper balcony. I couldn't look away. It was like watching a storm trying to eat a star."
Zane gave her a look. "That's... dramatic."
"I'm a wind mage. We're dramatic by nature."
He snorted, despite himself.
Sera tilted her head slightly, examining him with an openness that made him uncomfortable. "You've got this whole tragic hero vibe. Quiet. Deadly. Mysterious. Probably cursed. Or chosen. Or both."
He sighed. "Definitely cursed."
She grinned. "Perfect. You'll fit right in."
This one's trouble, Nyx whispered, amused. I like her.
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