Arena Awaits

As I stepped into the main hall, the air buzzed with an intense energy. The final selection arena loomed before me, a grand structure brimming with magic and challenges untold. My black robe billowed behind me as I approached, its fabric feeling heavier than it should, as though it carried the weight of Master’s expectations—and the curse he had just revealed.

The crowd of participants was smaller now, their faces a mix of determination and exhaustion. I scanned the room. Among the five teams, only ten witches and wizards remained, including Tabitha and Dion. Five had failed. That was a sobering realization.

Tabitha waved at me from across the hall, her cheerful demeanor as unwavering as ever, while Dion stood with his arms crossed, a faint smirk playing on his lips.

“You ready for this?” he called out as I approached.

“Ready as I’ll ever be,” I replied, my voice steady despite the turmoil in my chest.

Before any more words could be exchanged, a sharp crackling sound filled the air, cutting through the tension like a knife. The hall fell into stunned silence. A chill ran down my spine as Hecate herself appeared, her presence overwhelming. Her gown, black as midnight and shimmering with otherworldly light, seemed to absorb the very essence of the space around her. Her gaze swept over the crowd like a storm, piercing and merciless.

"As you can see," she began, her voice echoing with power, "the forest’s curse has been lifted. I don’t know who was responsible, but the forest has regained its original state. The final selection has fulfilled its purpose."

Confusion rippled through the participants, whispers rising like a wave. “What does that mean? Is the selection over?” someone muttered.

“But!” Hecate continued, her smile both enigmatic and predatory. “The final selection will proceed. Survive it, and I shall grant one wish—any wish.” She lingered on those words, her gaze lingering on me for a heartbeat longer than necessary. “Anything you desire,” she repeated, her tone like honey, laced with hidden malice.

A wish... Could she cure the curse? The thought flickered in my mind, impossible to ignore. Could I trust her? I quickly buried that doubt. Surviving this challenge was the only way forward.

A collective sigh of relief swept through the hall, some participants visibly relaxing at the prospect of the final trial’s end. “So, we can live here without fear now?” I murmured to myself, taking a deep, steadying breath.

Hecate’s voice once more sliced through the murmurs. “Congratulations to those who have made it this far,” she said. “The final phase will test not only your strength and skill but your will to endure. Only the strongest shall prevail.” Her eyes locked onto mine for a fleeting moment, and I felt a shiver of unease travel up my spine. Did she know? Could she sense the curse winding through my veins like poison?

Without another word, she raised her hand in a fluid motion. The air hummed with power, and the very ground beneath our feet seemed to quiver. The marble floor trembled, then cracked open, splitting to reveal a vast, shifting battlefield. Jagged cliffs rose up from the earth, and treacherous terrain sprawled out before us, dotted with magical anomalies that swirled with energy. The sky darkened above, filled with shifting clouds of raw, untamed power.

The room was enveloped in a sharp silence as the battlefield fully emerged, its chaotic beauty both mesmerizing and foreboding. Hecate's gaze roamed over us once more before she spoke again, her voice a melodic command.

"The final trial will consist of a series of one-on-one duels," she declared, her words igniting the crowd into a frenzy of whispers and speculation. "Each match will test your cunning, strength, and mastery of magic. This is not merely a fight to overpower your opponent—it is a battle of survival, strategy, and resilience. Do not disappoint me."

Her words were met with tense silence. A faint smirk danced on Hecate's lips as she added, "And remember, this is not about mercy."

With a flick of her wrist, shimmering glyphs appeared in the air, each glowing with ancient runes. They rearranged themselves in a dazzling display, settling into pairs of names.

I scanned the list, my pulse quickening as I read:

Dion vs. Farrah

Tabitha vs. Caine

Valkyrie vs. Magnus

Mira vs. Amon

Jared vs. Elara

The realization struck me—five matches in total, with ten contestants remaining. A part of me took a steadying breath, glad to have one less obstacle to worry about. But still, the weight of the trials ahead lingered heavily in my chest.

Hecate’s voice cut through the tension, her tone both dark and commanding. "When your name is called, step forward to the arena. The wards will ensure no permanent damage, but I will not intervene if your mistakes cost you dearly. Prepare yourselves."

The first pair stepped into the arena as the rest of us retreated to the sidelines. Dion adjusted his cloak and exchanged a confident nod with me before descending into the jagged battlefield. Across from him, Farrah—a wiry woman with a piercing gaze—held her staff aloft, her magic swirling in the air around her as gusts of wind whipped through the arena.

"Begin!" Hecate commanded, and the arena erupted into chaos.

Farrah attacked first, sending a violent gust of wind toward Dion, forcing him to take a step back as the air pressure shifted dramatically. Her power was quick and unpredictable, the wind howling around her as she maneuvered with precision. Dion responded by summoning a massive wave of water, the liquid crashing toward Farrah like a tidal wave.

But Farrah was quick, leaping nimbly to the side, using the wind to carry her out of the way. She redirected the force of the wind, creating a cyclone that lifted debris from the ground and sent it hurtling toward Dion. Her control over the air was flawless, each gust seemingly designed to outmaneuver her opponent.

Dion’s movements were swift, but he had to be strategic, using the terrain to his advantage. The wind made his water attacks more difficult, but he managed to shift the water into tendrils that reached toward Farrah, entangling her in a net of swirling liquid.

"Come on, Dion," Tabitha whispered beside me, her fists clenched.

With a final surge, Dion unleashed a wave of water that encased Farrah, freezing her mid-motion. The cyclone faltered as the water solidified around her, rendering her unable to move. The crowd erupted in cheers as Hecate raised her hand, signaling Dion’s victory.

"Well fought," she said, her tone neutral. "Dion advances."

He returned to us, his smirk replaced with a rare, genuine smile. "One down," he muttered, though his eyes betrayed his weariness.

The next match began, and Tabitha strode forward with her characteristic cheer, her fire magic flaring to life as she squared off against Caine, a stoic man with earth affinity. Their battle was fierce, the ground splitting and flames roaring as their powers clashed in a dazzling display of destruction.

Tabitha danced across the battlefield with ease, her fire magic turning the air around her into a furnace. Caine, however, wasn’t easily rattled. He called upon the earth, the ground shifting beneath his feet as he raised massive stone pillars to block Tabitha’s attacks. His earth magic was resilient, but Tabitha’s flames were just as relentless.

At one point, she raised her arms high, a massive torrent of fire spiraling toward Caine. He retaliated by summoning a wall of rock, but the flames overwhelmed it, causing the stones to crumble under the intense heat. As the last of Caine’s defenses fell, Tabitha unleashed a final burst of fire, consuming the earth wizard in a brilliant flash.

Hecate raised her hand. "Tabitha advances."

The crowd cheered as Tabitha jogged back to us, her face flushed with excitement. "That was a good fight! Let’s keep this going!" she called out.

But I barely registered her words, my thoughts focused on my upcoming duel. Magnus stood across the field, his arms crossed, his silver hair gleaming under the magical light. Sparks danced between his fingers as if his very body brimmed with barely contained power.

"Valkyrie versus Magnus!" Hecate’s voice rang out, pulling me from my thoughts.