Whispers of Worlds Beyond: A Series

The tension in the Mirage Field had barely settled from Sevan's loss when the next duel was announced.

"Next match: Jarek Guerra versus Ivara!" the announcer called.

Aiden, Sevan, Adrian, and Rupert went back in the stands, their attention snapping to the field below. The ground shimmered under the influence of illusion magic, making distances deceptive and footing unpredictable.

It was an arena meant to challenge perception and adaptability- a battlefield that seemed to favor someone as smart as Ivara.

But brute force was not something illusions could trick.

Jarek rolled his shoulders, gripping the handle of his massive mace.

His fighting style was simple: break whatever was in front of him. And if it didn't break the first time, hit it harder.

Aiden felt like Jarek will lose.

Ivara, on the other hand, stood poised with her bow, her stance calculated. She wasn't rattled by Jarek's imposing presence, nor by the sheer force he radiated just by existing. Instead, she pulled an arrow from her quiver, her cold eyes focused entirely on him.

The announcer raised a hand.

"Standard duel rules apply. No lethal blows. No attacks outside the designated torso area. Victory by knockout, surrender, or inability to continue. Fighters, are you ready?"

Jarek slammed his mace against the ground, cracking the stone beneath his feet. "Ready."

Ivara gave a single nod.

"Begin!"

Ivara moved first, as expected. She loosed an arrow in one fluid motion, its trajectory aimed perfectly at Jarek's chest.

Jarek didn't bother dodging. He raised his free arm, letting the arrow sink into his thick leather bracer before charging forward, his mace dragging against the ground.

Ivara had already loosed another arrow, this time tipped with an enchantment- wind magic that cut like a blade.

Jarek twisted mid-run, using the head of his mace as a shield. The arrow scraped against the metal and ricocheted off, embedding itself into the shimmering ground. He closed the distance faster than Ivara anticipated, swinging his weapon in a wide arc.

Ivara leaped back, but the sheer force of the wind following his swing knocked her off balance. She recovered instantly, landing lightly on her feet. But Jarek wasn't done. He swung again, this time a downward smash aimed at the illusion-coated ground.

The impact was catastrophic. The ground cracked, sending tremors through the field. The Mirage Field flickered, the illusions struggling to maintain their form under the force of his attack.

Aiden and the others watched from the stands, stunned.

"He's wrecking the arena itself," Rupert muttered.

"Classic Jarek."

"Doesn't matter if the illusions mess with your perception if you just break the whole damn place, based on his logic," Sevan murmured

But Ivara wasn't done either. As soon as the ground fractured, she moved. Using the broken terrain to her advantage, she sprang upward, drawing three arrows at once. They glowed faintly, infused with magic.

She fired.

Jarek saw them coming. Instead of dodging, he raised his mace and spun, the sheer weight of the weapon creating a powerful gust that altered the arrows' trajectory just enough for them to graze past him instead of hitting their mark.

Aiden narrowed his eyes.

That was both impressive and surprising. Jarek wasn't just using brute strength. He knew exactly how to manipulate his swings for maximum disruption.

Ivara, however, remained composed.

She never relied on just one trick. The moment her arrows missed, she was already moving again, weaving through the broken terrain, using Jarek's own destruction as cover.

Jarek wasn't fast, but he didn't need to be. He simply calculated her next step. And when she moved in to fire at his exposed side, he swung.

The mace didn't hit her directly, but it smashed into the ground beside her, creating an explosive shockwave that sent her tumbling. She landed hard, rolling to a stop.

Jarek grinned. "Gotcha."

Ivara didn't reply. Instead, she braced herself and fired one last arrow- point-blank.

Jarek's grin faltered as the arrow struck him square in the chest. Even through his armor, he felt the force behind it. It wasn't a killing shot, but it stole the breath from his lungs, momentarily numbing his limbs.

For a second, neither moved. Then Jarek chuckled.

"Alright," he said, rolling his shoulders. "Not bad."

"Ivara wins!"

The stands erupted into cheers, though Jarek seemed unbothered by the loss. He cracked his neck before offering Ivara a hand. She eyed it for a moment before taking it, allowing him to pull her to her feet.

"I thought I had you," Jarek admitted.

"You almost did," she said, brushing dust from her sleeves. "You're reckless."

He smirked. "Yeah, but it almost worked."

As the crowd thinned, Aiden glanced at Adrian and Sevan.

"Guess that means all of us lost our fights."

Sevan huffed. "Technically, mine and yours was stolen."

Adrian muttered something that sounded a lot like curses directed at Shiloh and Ambrose.

Jarek rejoined them, still grinning despite his loss. "That was fun. Now, who's up next?"

Aiden exhaled. "Me."

The others turned to him.

Jarek clapped a hand on his shoulder, grinning. "Then you better win. Well, I'm not really into that placement anyways so I guess Ivara deserves mine."

The rest of the day was nothing short of miserable.

Everywhere they went, Shiloh, Lochan, and Ambrose made sure to remind them of their losses.

"What a bunch of losers," Shiloh sneered as he leaned against a nearby pillar, arms crossed. "I mean, I expected Sevan to lose, but Jarek? Man, that was disappointing."

"Must be embarrassing," Lochan added, smirking.

"Imagine thinking brute force could actually win against precision."

"And Adrian," Ambrose chuckled, shaking his head. "I don't think I've ever seen someone get humiliated that badly before. Did it hurt, Caleena?"

Adrian was walking ahead, trying to ignore them, but his fists were clenched so tightly his knuckles had turned white. Sevan was scowling, Rupert was sighing in exasperation, and Aiden was biting back the urge to snap at them.

Then Shiloh made the mistake of laughing. "You know, at this rate, Aiden might as well just forfeit before he embarrasses himself too."

That was it.

Adrian spun around so fast that Shiloh barely had time to react before Adrian's fist was already flying toward his face.

Jarek was right behind him, mirroring the movement. Unlike Adrian, Jarek's punch carried enough raw strength to send someone reeling.

Shiloh flinched, his smirk faltering. Ambrose and Lochan immediately tensed, ready to retaliate when...

"Stop."

The voice was calm, but it cut through the tension, instantly dissipating.

Professor Anwar had appeared at the end of the corridor, watching them with an unimpressed expression. His golden eyes flicked over the group before settling on Adrian, then Jarek.

"No fighting in the hallways," he said evenly. "Or all of you get detention."

Adrian and Jarek didn't lower their fists right away, but after a tense moment, they finally relented.

Anwar then turned his attention to Shiloh, Lochan, and Ambrose. "And you three. Stop loitering in the halls. And to think you're all from respectable families."

The three immediately straightened. Shiloh scoffed under his breath but didn't argue. "Tch. Whatever."

With that, he turned on his heel and walked off, Lochan and Ambrose following suit.

Anwar watched them go before shifting his gaze back to the group. "If I catch any of you trying to start something again, I won't be as lenient next time."

Then, just as casually as he arrived, he walked away, his long coat trailing behind him.

The moment he was gone, Adrian exhaled harshly.

"Coward didn't even let me hit him."

Jarek rolled his shoulders. "I almost landed mine. Next time, I'm swinging first."

Aiden said nothing, staring after Professor Anwar.

--------------------

Dinner that night was a grim affair.

Adrian, Sevan, and Jarek were sulking so hard they might as well have been mourning a national tragedy. Adrian was stabbing at his food with unnecessary aggression, Sevan was barely eating at all, and Jarek looked like he was still replaying his fight in his head, trying to figure out where he went wrong (it was quite obvious, but Aiden thought Jarek might need help in that department since he isn't really known as the smartest).

Rupert, on the other hand, was unbothered, eating his meal like it was just another day. Aiden, deciding that someone had to break the silence, turned to him.

"Well, at least no one got sent to the infirmary," Aiden said dryly, taking a sip of water.

Rupert hummed. "Yet."

"You'd think they lost a war."

"To them, they did."

Rupert glanced at Jarek, who was still frowning at his plate, then at Sevan, who looked like he wanted to set his food on fire (or water) with sheer willpower.

Before Aiden could say anything else, a soft voice interrupted them.

"You all did great."

They turned to see Amihan standing there with a kind smile, her long white hair cascading over her shoulders. Despite the losses, she still congratulated them like they had won.

"I mean it," she continued. "Winning isn't everything. You guys fought hard, and that's what matters."

Sevan made a face like he wanted to argue, but she patted his shoulder before he could.

Ammonn approached next, accompanied by Morrigan, who was adjusting the cuff of her sleeve. Morrigan, usually energetic, gave them a sympathetic look before patting Adrian's back.

"You did your best," he assured them. "And everyone saw how Shiloh won. It wasn't exactly fair."

Adrian scoffed, still stabbing at his food. "Tch. That bastard."

"Shiloh's an idiot," Ammonn said bluntly, hands in his pockets. "Everyone knows it. You two were at a disadvantage from the start."

Sevan finally spoke up, muttering, "We still lost."

"Yeah, but no one's happy that Shiloh won," Morrigan said with a small shrug. "The rest of the first years hate his group. Who wouldn't when they thought just becase their last name is famous that they are too."

Aiden raised an eyebrow. "Really?"

Aiden glanced around the Great Hall, noticing how the other first-years weren't celebrating Shiloh, Lochan, or Ambrose. If anything, there were plenty of side-eyes and hushed whispers whenever they passed by.

Even if Adrian, Sevan, and Jarek lost, it seemed like the rest of the first years were on their side.

That didn't change the results, but it did make Aiden feel a little less bitter about it.

He hoped he'll win. But if they did that to two games already, who's stopping them from doing it again?