The Perfect Match

Lucien paced in his dorm room, his nerves in shambles. "It's Leon, isn't it? It's always Leon."

[It's definitely Leon.]

"Maybe it's not Leon!" Ignis piped in, ever the optimist. "Maybe it's someone weaker! Someone you can finally beat!"

Lucien stopped pacing. "That would be a first."

[Don't get your hopes up. It's definitely Leon.]

Lucien groaned and flopped onto his bed. "We need a plan. If it's him, I'm finished."

[Correction: You're extra crispy.]

"I can take him!" Ignis flared up in the air. "Just let me loose! I'll turn that smug jerk into barbecue!"

Lucien raised a brow. "The same way you turned my shoes into barbecue yesterday?"

"That was practice!" Ignis huffed.

Before Lucien could respond, there was a knock on his door. He opened it to see a familiar figure standing there — the academy's messenger.

"The match is scheduled for tomorrow morning," the messenger said. "Your opponent…" He glanced at the paper in his hand. "...isn't Leon."

Lucien blinked. "Wait, what?"

[Huh?]

"See! I told you!" Ignis cheered.

But Lucien wasn't convinced. "Then who—"

"It's Aeris Valebrand."

[Oh… oh no.]

"Wait, isn't that—?" Ignis started.

"Yes," Lucien cut in, his face pale. "She's the top-ranked first-year. The prodigy."

The girl with lightning magic.

"We're gonna die." Ignis whispered.

[We're definitely gonna die.]

Lucien stared at the door long after the messenger left. Tomorrow was going to be a disaster.