spectating with you

And so, the long-awaited main event began. The academy's enormous battle arena was filled to capacity with students, staff, and visitors from all around, creating a cacophony of cheers and conversation that pulsed through the air like an electric current. Massive banners displaying the academy's crest fluttered above, and dazzling magical lights rimmed the edges of the stage, heightening the sense of spectacle.

I stood off to the side, trying to steady my breathing as I watched the competition unfold. The rules were simple: the lower-ranked matches took place first, and winners would advance to face higher ranks in subsequent rounds. This meant I had time to observe—and time to let my anxiety mount—before finally clashing with Lillian, the number-one ranked student.

The first few battles were over in a flash, each one eliciting an explosion of cheers from the crowd. I couldn't help but be impressed by the sheer variety of magic in play—elemental attacks, illusions, and even some ingenious defensive techniques I never would have considered. My heart pounded as I realized that every victory brought us closer to the final showdown: my battle with Lillian.

Seventh place was called up next: "Cassiel Valmont." A murmur rippled through the crowd, and I raised an eyebrow in surprise. Cassiel uses water magic? I'd never seen him fight before—he always seemed so reserved. Yet he approached the center of the arena with a poised confidence that suggested I'd underestimated him.

His opponent specialized in earth magic, and the two clashed in a startling display of power. Cassiel summoned torrents of water that twisted like serpents, lashing at the earthen defenses his opponent raised. The crowd roared with excitement when Cassiel's water managed to find every crack in the earthen shields, forcing his adversary to concede. The overseer declared him the winner amidst thunderous applause.

As the next match was announced, my anticipation soared. Claire Clovis versus Diana Hayes—wind against healing magic. A hush fell over the crowd as the two took their positions. Claire, eyes glinting with determination, wasted no time conjuring a fierce gust of wind. Diana, ever calm, countered with a shining golden barrier, her healing magic unexpectedly used for defense rather than restoration.

"Now this is going to be an interesting fight," a familiar voice said beside me.

Startled, I turned to see Camille sliding into the seat next to me, her platinum-white hair shining under the arena lights and her ice-blue eyes fixed on the stage. She wore her usual gentle smile, but a certain gleam of excitement danced within her gaze.

"Camille," I greeted, momentarily distracted from the battle.

"Hey, Sera," she replied softly, nodding toward the ring where Claire's wind attacks and Diana's healing-based counters created a dynamic, swirling clash of energies. "I wouldn't miss this fight. They're both so different—Claire with raw, offensive wind power, and Diana with her cool, strategic mind."

I nodded, biting my lip. "I'm honestly not sure who'll come out on top. Claire's wind magic is formidable, but Diana can turn healing energy into offensive bursts if she times it right. If Claire rushes in without thinking, Diana might get the upper hand."

Camille chuckled. "You've analyzed their strengths well. I see someone's been doing more than just studying for exams."

I shrugged but couldn't hide a small smile. "Maybe I'm just easily distracted."

Our conversation paused as the match intensified. Claire, with her violet eyes shining and her hair whipping around in the gusts of her own magic, summoned a swirling vortex that nearly blanketed the entire stage. The audience gasped at the sheer force behind it, several students in the front rows scrambling to shield themselves from the wind.

I leaned forward, my heart pounding at the sight of the massive whirlwind. "Wow, that's intense," I muttered. But before the vortex could fully consume the stage, a sudden burst of wind shot out from the opposite side, colliding with Claire's tornado and slicing through it.

"What the—?" I stammered, eyes widening. "Was that wind magic from Diana?"

Beside me, Camille let out a soft chuckle, and to my surprise, she intertwined her fingers with mine. My cheeks grew warm at the unexpected contact, but I couldn't deny that it felt… comforting.

"You didn't know?" she teased, her voice dropping low enough that only I could hear. "Just because Diana's known for her healing magic doesn't mean she can't use other elements. She happens to be quite good at wind magic, actually. One of her favorites."

I blinked, momentarily distracted by the warmth of Camille's hand in mine. Shaking my head, I refocused on the battle below. Diana stood poised, her golden-blonde hair swept back by the lingering gusts. She moved with calculated precision, channeling controlled bursts of wind that disrupted Claire's more chaotic gales.

"She's pretty good," I murmured, watching Diana effortlessly deflect another of Claire's attacks. There was an almost eerie composure in Diana's stance, as though she knew exactly how far to push her wind magic without losing control.

Camille nodded, her thumb gently brushing against the back of my hand. "Of course. Diana's calm and meticulous. It's how she maintains an edge—even when it seems like she's at a disadvantage."

"But then… why does it feel like Claire's the one struggling here?" I asked, my gaze drifting between the two combatants. Claire's face was set in determination, but there was a hint of frustration etched in her features as Diana countered her every move.

"It's unfortunate," Camille said, leaning a bit closer. "Because in terms of raw power, Claire might actually be stronger."

I frowned, glancing at her. "Stronger? You mean her wind magic is more potent than Diana's?"

Camille nodded, looking thoughtful. "Claire's bursts of wind are intense, but they're not always precise. Diana, on the other hand, uses just enough force at exactly the right moment. It's like a dance—she's redirecting Claire's power rather than simply clashing head-on. It's a smarter way to fight."

Below us, the clash continued. Claire gathered herself for another assault, swirling her arms dramatically as she summoned an even bigger gust of wind. But as she released it, Diana surged forward with a perfectly timed counter-blast, cutting through the heart of the gale and leaving Claire momentarily off balance.

"She's using Claire's own momentum against her," I observed, wincing as Claire stumbled. "It's almost like she anticipated this outcome from the start."

Camille squeezed my hand gently, drawing my attention back to her. "Diana's always been tactical," she explained. "It's part of what makes her so dangerous. And it's part of why so many underestimate her—she doesn't show off raw power, but she can out-think and outmaneuver almost anyone."

A final, resounding crash tore our focus back to the ring. Claire hurled a desperate flurry of wind blades in Diana's direction, each one slicing through the air with lethal precision. Yet Diana, calm as ever, conjured a swirling vortex of her own, sending Claire's attacks spiraling off-course. When the dust settled, Claire was on one knee, breathing hard, while Diana stood relatively unscathed.

Camille leaned in again, whispering so only I could hear, "Told you—power isn't everything."

I nodded slowly, watching the overseer step forward to announce the winner. A tense hush fell over the arena before the voice rang out: "Winner: Diana Hayes!"

Claire groaned audibly, sinking to the ground with an overdramatic moan of defeat. The crowd erupted into cheers, half for Diana's victory and half in sympathy for Claire's theatrical collapse.

Camille turned to me, her hand still laced with mine. "That was quite a show, wasn't it?"

I swallowed, acutely aware of the gentle pressure of her hand around mine. "Yeah," I managed, my voice soft. "It was really something."

She gave me a sidelong glance, her ice-blue eyes dancing with amusement. "Just wait. The day's only just begun. Who knows what else we'll see?"

My stomach twisted at the reminder of my own upcoming match, the one that could change everything for me. Yet as I met Camille's gaze, a strange sense of reassurance washed over me. Maybe, with her and others cheering me on—or teasing me to no end—I could face whatever came next.

"Good luck on your match later, Sera."

"Thanks...though I doubt I'll win against Lillian, but I'll have to do my best to break it even." I mumbled, my thoughts referring to the bet we made. 

I felt Camille's hand squeeze mine, "Don't worry, I believe in you. Who knows what'll happen later on?"

I squeezed her hand back, feeling a curious blend of excitement and dread flood my chest. Yeah, I thought, letting the roar of the crowd wash over me. Who knows what else we'll see… or what else might happen today.

For some reason, I didn't push her away. My heart fluttered instead, a soft, insistent beat that pulsed in my ears. I stole a quick glance at Camille, catching a faint smile on her lips as she kept her gaze on the arena. The sunlight played on her platinum-white hair, and for a moment, I forgot the rush of the crowd and the tension of the battles. All I could think about was the warmth of her hand in mine.

She turned her head slightly, as though she sensed me looking at her, and her ice-blue eyes met mine. There was a quiet amusement there—like she knew exactly what I was feeling but was content to let me work it out on my own. My cheeks grew warm, and I quickly shifted my attention back to the stage, pretending to be interested in the next match.

Still, I couldn't shake the tiny spark of comfort that her presence offered. And even though I had every reason to pull away—confusion, nerves, or simply not wanting to be teased—I found I couldn't muster the will. Instead, I let her gentle touch ground me, a subtle reminder that I wasn't alone in this sea of spectators.

As the announcer's voice boomed again, calling for the next combatants, my pulse pounded with renewed anticipation. The day would only get more intense from here—more battles, more drama, and my own fight still looming ahead. But right now, in this small, stolen moment, I allowed myself a brief respite of closeness and calm, Camille's hand still nestled reassuringly in mine.