wish me luck

"And with the next fight: Tessa Vale versus Camille Winters!" the overseer declared, his voice echoing through the arena.

Camille exhaled softly, pushing herself up from her seat. Her usual confident smile played on her lips, and her icy-blue eyes glistened with excitement under the sun's glare. The crowd buzzed with anticipation, eager to watch two top contenders clash.

She turned to me, still holding onto my hand for a moment. "Wish me luck?" she asked, a teasing lilt coloring her tone.

"Good luck," I said, offering a supportive nod.

Camille shook her head, letting out an exaggerated sigh. "Seriously, is that all you can do for me?"

I blinked, confused. "Eh? Isn't that what you wanted? A good-luck wish?"

She leaned in slightly, her gaze dropping to my lips. "Well," she murmured, "I was wondering… maybe you'd give me a kiss or something."

My cheeks blazed red, and I tensed as I realized just how many people were milling around us. "No way! Too many people are watching!" I hissed, frantically glancing over my shoulder at the rows of onlookers.

Camille shrugged, a playful pout forming. "Fine, what about a hug?"

"You're really pushing it…" I muttered under my breath. But the hopeful, almost mischievous look in her eyes was impossible to refuse. Gritting my teeth against the flurry of butterflies in my stomach, I opened my arms. "Fine."

She wasted no time stepping into the embrace, wrapping her arms around me with surprising warmth. My heart hammered against my ribs as the crowd's cheers and chatter filled my ears, yet it all felt muted compared to the momentary hush in my mind. Her platinum-white hair brushed my cheek, and I caught the faint scent of something sweet—like vanilla and frost.

"Thank you," Camille whispered, leaning back just enough to meet my eyes. There was a softness there I wasn't used to seeing, and it sent a jolt of unsteady heat through my core.

"Don't get carried away," I managed, forcing a shaky laugh to hide the nervous tremor in my voice.

She smiled again—bright, confident, and undeniably her. "I won't," she promised, stepping away and releasing my arms. "But don't forget who's cheering me on, okay?"

I cleared my throat, shoving my hands into my pockets to keep them from trembling. "Yeah, sure. Just don't lose. Tessa's no pushover."

Camille's grin took on a competitive edge. "Please. That's exactly why this'll be fun." With that, she turned and made her way toward the center of the arena, her posture the picture of poise and determination.

My heart still thundered in my chest as I watched her go. I couldn't quite believe what had just happened—I'd offered Camille Winters a hug in front of an entire stadium of spectators. But the strangest part was that I didn't regret it. Not even a little.

Settling back into my seat, I tried to calm myself, focusing on the match about to unfold. Yet my mind kept drifting to the moment of contact, the feel of Camille's arms around me, and the warmth that lingered even after she'd pulled away.

Get it together, Sera, I told myself firmly, forcing my gaze to the stage where Tessa was already stretching, rolling her neck in preparation. If I let my emotions get the better of me now, I might not be in the right headspace when my own match came up.

But no matter how hard I tried to refocus, I couldn't quite shake the flutter in my chest—a reminder that for all the magic and battles around me, the most disarming thing I'd encountered today was a single, fleeting hug.

Still, the academy's schedule left no room for lingering in soft moments. Almost as soon as Camille stepped into the arena, the announcer's voice boomed through the stands, declaring the start of her match against Tessa. My heart pounded in time with the cheering crowd.

Camille stood with her usual regal bearing, the faint mist of her ice magic pooling around her feet. Even from my seat, I could practically feel the chill radiating off her. She raised one hand, coaxing a handful of delicate snowflakes into being—an elegant display of power that nonetheless hinted at the destructive force beneath her control.

Tessa, on the other hand, approached the battlefield with a confident, unhurried stride. She wore a faint smirk, her fire and wind magic coiling around her fingers, sparks occasionally dancing around her wrists like living embers. Her crimson gaze flickered toward Camille as if measuring her opponent's strength.

The moment the overseer signaled for the fight to begin, both combatants sprang into action.

Camille moved first, hurling a flurry of ice shards through the air at breakneck speed. Each shard glinted wickedly in the sunlight, sharp enough to cut through solid stone. Yet Tessa was ready. She swept her hand upward, conjuring a gust of wind that whipped around her like a protective vortex. The shards smashed against it, several clattering harmlessly to the ground, while others were flung off-course, skidding into the arena's barriers.

Almost immediately, Tessa retaliated by unleashing a small fireball, its flames tinged a deep crimson. The blaze streaked across the arena, leaving ripples of heat in its wake. But Camille's response was just as swift—she encased herself in a dome of frost, and the fireball exploded against the icy shell in a burst of steam and sparks.

The crowd roared with excitement, drawn to the clash of opposing elements. I found myself at the edge of my seat, hands clenched tight around the armrest. Despite my own concerns about my pending match, I couldn't tear my eyes away from the spectacle unfolding before me.

"That's good," I mumbled, leaning forward. "But can Camille counter Tessa's wind magic if she picks up the pace?"

It seemed Camille had the same thought. She emerged from her protective ice shield and thrust both hands outward, sending a frigid breeze sweeping across the battlefield. Crystalline shards of ice were suspended in the gust, forming a glittering wave of sub-zero needles aimed squarely at Tessa.

Tessa responded in kind, summoning a fierce wind that clashed with Camille's frosty gale mid-air. The two gusts collided in a storm of ice shards and swirling embers, a breathtaking blend of white frost and red sparks. Steam billowed from the impact, obscuring the stage momentarily in a foggy haze.

As the mist cleared, Tessa reappeared in a flash of crimson flame, pivoting smoothly to close the distance between them. Swiftly, she launched another volley of fire-tipped wind currents. Camille pressed one hand to the arena floor, summoning a rising wall of ice that intercepted the scorching wind before it could land a direct hit.

From the stands, I could see Camille flash a small grin—a look of pure exhilaration. Tessa returned it, her smirk indicating that this was precisely the kind of match she craved: fast-paced and high-stakes.

"Oh, they're definitely enjoying this," I muttered under my breath, half to myself.

"They sure are," came a voice near me. I turned to see Claire—looking a tad sulky from her earlier loss—settle into the seat next to mine. "That Tessa has a knack for unpredictability. But if Camille keeps her cool, literally, she might edge her out."

I nodded, swallowing the last remnants of the nervousness still clinging to me since my encounter with Camille. On the battlefield below, each girl was straining their magic to outdo the other—wind swirling around flickers of fire, colliding with shards of ice that rained down like frozen daggers.

Gradually, their contest of elemental might pushed them both near the brink of exhaustion. Tessa's flames, while potent, required a steady supply of oxygen that Camille's chilling assaults threatened to disrupt. At the same time, Camille's intense focus on maintaining her ice constructs left her open whenever Tessa switched tactics, the wind howling in from unexpected angles.

Finally, with a decisive roar of wind, Tessa managed to force Camille back, sending her skidding across the arena. For a heartbeat, it seemed Tessa might seize the advantage. Yet, in the space of that single breath, Camille dropped low, pressing her palm to the ground. A surge of ice erupted beneath Tessa's feet, knocking her off balance as she slipped on the sudden slick of frost.

Seizing the opening, Camille mustered one last, powerful blast of icy wind that enveloped Tessa's arms and legs in a spidery web of frost. Tessa struggled, her flames guttering out as the cold constricted her movements.

"Winner: Camille Winters!" the overseer declared, the crowd exploding into cheers.

I exhaled, a grin tugging at my lips. As Camille lowered her hand, the ice gripping Tessa melted quickly to avoid injury. Tessa shook her arms free and offered Camille a begrudging smile, despite her obvious frustration.

From my vantage point, I could see Camille's gaze dart upward, searching the stands. She spotted me, and her eyes lit up with the same assured warmth as before. My pulse fluttered again, an odd mixture of relief and… something else.

"She did it," Claire observed softly, crossing her arms. "Guess she's still got that edge over Tessa. But just barely."

"Yeah," I murmured, standing as the officials rushed in to prepare for the next match. My own fight was looming, and as I recalled the bet I'd made with Lillian, a renewed wave of nerves set in. Still, a small smile refused to leave my lips.

Even amidst the intense competition, Camille had found the time—and the reason—to ask me for support, and seeing her victorious only underscored the chaotic blend of emotions swirling in my chest. This was the academy, after all: a place where magic, rivalry, and confessions—both spoken and unspoken—came crashing together.