Liliana crossed her legs on the couch she was seated on. A giant illusion had popped up across one wall of the class S waiting room when the headmistress’ voice had rolled through the coliseum ten minutes prior to announce that the first round of individual fights was going to start soon. The illusion had displayed the empty coliseum sands for them to see, up until Zir’elon was called out to come to the sands for his fight.

Zir’elon had the misfortune of being in the first round, and Liliana was eager and hopeful that she would see him defeated in the very first individual round of the tournament. He was facing off against an Adela Eastes from class A. Liliana didn’t recognize the girl, but once more that came as no surprise.

I really should pay more attention to my yearmates. Liliana thought as the rules for the fights were announced. Which basically amounted to: keep fighting until someone’s shield went red. No attacking once the fight was called to an end, and no fighting before the fight was called to start.

Liliana did wish she could be in the proper audience of the coliseum. She’d have liked the chance to [Identify] the other girl. Though she had a feeling such skills were blocked right now. The professors seemed to enjoy keeping them as off balance as possible, and that included preventing them from identifying opponents to gain some small sliver of information and possible advantage.

“Who wants to place a bet on the outcome?” Emyr asked, a gold coin swimming across his knuckles as he grinned at his friends.

“I’m not betting, I just hope he gets knocked out so I can laugh at him.” Liliana said, crunching into a cookie. She truly missed popcorn at times like this. The rest of the group either declined the bet offer or placed their bets. Most of them, unsurprisingly, bet against Zir’elon.

The fight was called to a start, and the two teenagers moved. Zir’elon summoning his curved sword from his storage, fire rushing across the length. Adela summoned what looked to be a wand and Liliana sighed in disappointment. A mage then, not a good match up against a fighter like Zir’elon. The girl gave a good fight, as much as she could with such a clear disadvantage.

Liliana picked out Gas and Acid affinities, which did prove troublesome for Zir’elon when he idiotically tried to burn through some attacks, finding out the hard way that some acids and gases were highly flammable. With Eastes’ Fire affinity, he couldn’t turn the unexpected flames to his own advantage, and as Eastes likely had a higher Magic Control stat than him, she kept firm control over the created fires.

However, once Zir’elon figured out fighting a mage for magical control was a lost cause, he gave up and right out charged the girl, and mages weren’t known for their Speed or Vitality. Once Zir’elon got within sword range of the girl, the fight was decided. The girl went down after a scant handful of strikes and the fight was over, and the dæmon prince was declared the victor.

Liliana couldn’t wait to watch that smug look get wiped from his face. Marianne and Dawn were in his bracket. If they failed, Emyr, Anya or Koth’talan would be up against him in the semi-finals and Liliana was confident any of them were five times the fighter Zir’elon was. He could enjoy his paltry victory for now. It wouldn’t last.

If all her friends failed. Well. Liliana would ever let Zir’elon win a tournament as long as she drew breath. Call her petty, but she would never permit him to have such a victory.

“That’s me.” Marianne said as the two combatants were shooed from the sands.

The princess handed over her gold to Emyr, having bet against Zir’elon and lost. Oddly enough, Emyr had bet for Zir’elon and had won the pot. Liliana gave her friend a tight hug as she stood to prepare to leave.

“You better win. We don’t want a weak queen.” Liliana teased as she pulled back. Marianne stuck her tongue out at Liliana.

“I’m out to win this whole thing, so you better be ready to congratulate my victory.” Marianne informed her, accepting the wishes for good luck and hugs from the rest of the group before she left the room just as Zir’elon strutted back in.

“See that? That’s what a real winner looks like.” Zir’elon announced to the room, the comment rather pointedly directed at Liliana’s group.

“What’s that? I think someone under the national average intelligence just spoke.” Liliana said, face scrunching up as she held a hand to her ear.

Zir’elon could have his victory, but it didn’t mean Lilliana had to let him enjoy lording it over the rest of them. Truly, she was performing a public service, punching a hole in his ego and letting out all the hot air he was filled with. She was helping him, honestly. If his head got much bigger, he wouldn’t be able to fit through doors.

“No Lili, I think you just heard a cockroach. They’re getting so big-headed and noisy now.” Emyr told her sagely.

“Guess someone should get on exterminating them, then.” Koth’talan added in, dragging his whetstone across his sword deliberately. Wow, did he pull that out just for a bit? Talk about dedication to being dramatic. Emyr could take notes.

“You sure it’s not a dung beetle? I heard they’re full of shit.” Alistair said with a smirk.

“Maybe we should ask for a different room. This one seems to have a pest problem.” Anya added in with a grin. Liliana snorted a laugh and slid her eyes to look at Zir’elon, whose skin was darkening in anger. He really was far too easy to poke fun at. He should get thicker skin if he was going to continue tossing insults he wasn’t prepared to have thrown back at him.

“Oh, you’re still there? Shoo now little bug, you’re stinking up our air.” Liliana cooed at the prince, waving a hand at him.

Liliana gave him a sickly sweet grin when he clenched his jaw so hard she swore she heard teeth cracking. Zir’elon stalked off to his friend, the laughter of her group trailing him. Eventually, he would learn better than to pick fights he would ever be capable of winning.

“Now, onto more pleasant topics,” Emyr said, shifting the group’s attention to the illusion before them, where Marianne was just walking onto the sands. Her opponent was an Adelaide Kaylock, class B.

“Anyone want to bet on our favorite royal?” Emyr asked, wincing when he looked at Koth’talan, “sorry ‘Talan.” Emyr said belatedly, earning a shrug from the dæmon.

“It’s fine. She’s my favorite royal, too.” Koth’talan said, earning nods from the group. Marianne might scare them all in a fight, but she was unanimously seen as the baby of the group. The little princess had effortlessly wormed her way into all of their hearts, and wasn’t about to leave anytime soon.

“Is there a point to betting when we all know she’s going to win? If not from fighting skill, then from pure intimidation factor.” Anya asked, eyes going slightly distant, a shudder of horror shaking her for a moment as she undoubtedly remembered Marianne in a fight. For a healer she had a startling amount of blood lust and willingness to see that blood spilt.

It was for the best, for them, for society, that Marianne had chosen to be a healer, and as such, was restricted by the limitations of her class. Liliana did not want to think of what untold horrors Marianne would be willing and capable of enacting if she were a dedicated fighting class.

“You know what, fair point.” Emyr agreed, and that put an end to any talk of betting on this fight. The group settled in as the fight rules were once more repeated before it was called to start.

“Oh shit, did she just pull bones out of her storage?” Liliana muttered, eyes wide as Kaylock dumped a small mountain of bones on the sands.

“A Reanimation affinity?” Alistair asked quietly. It was the only explanation for why someone would just carry bones on them, and why they were allowed at all. That or Kaylock had a very odd aesthetic she was dedicated to.

Liliana’s mouth dropped open when the bones started to move and assemble, and her mouth fully gaped when the bones were coated in blood. In seconds, something straight out of a horror movie faced Marianne. It was some sort of crocodilian creature, best Liliana could guess, and if the bones weren’t enough to make it something ripped right out of the most horrid of nightmares, the blood coating it like macabre skin only served to make it ten times more terrifying.

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“A Blood affinity against a Blood affinity? What are the odds?” Emyr asked, and Liliana shook her head.

Reanimation and Blood were two affinities that could be considered rare. Either because of their gruesome nature or because they weren’t the most conventionally useful affinities for a fight. Blood was more useful than Reanimation, but often required blood-letting from the user at least to start and many people didn’t want to injure themselves to fight.

Reanimation required corpses or bones to use, or for one to just carry the supplies with them. And there were few people who were alright with toting around dead bodies in their storage. And of the few that did, Liliana wanted to meet absolutely zero of them.

“I might be sick.” Rathwater whispered, horrified and looking distinctly green. Several of their group closest to him subtly edged away.

“At least it’s a skeleton and not a rotting corpse?” Liliana offered with a grimace.

Rathwater let out a whine and dropped his head between his knees, taking deep breaths to presumably keep the nausea at bay. The rest of the group couldn’t remove their eyes from the illusion as the two Blood affinity users began their fight.

Unlike Zir’elon’s fight, this one was far better balanced. Neither combatant was a close combat fighter, at least as their primary choice of strategy. For all that Marianne wished she was. Blood dyed the sands of the coliseum red as Marianne and Kaylock sent spell after spell at each other. Marianne was forced to keep herself moving, alternating her attacks between Kaylock and her pet monstrosity.

However, whatever weird secondary effect Marianne incorporated in her attacks seemed to have a particularly strong effect on the Reanimated horror. The longer the fight went on, the more the creature fell apart, bones decaying and turning to dust.

When the blood and bone skeleton was forced on its stomach after two legs had been dissolved, Marianne finished it off. Her gruesome scythe swung down with all the precision of an executioner’s axe, decapitating it. The black edge to her bloody weapon quickly consuming the rest of the skeleton and leaving the blood to splash to the ground.

Without her disturbing protector, Kaylock swiftly fell when all of Marianne’s attention was focused on her, a startled falter in response to one of Marianne’s trademark battle cries spelling her inevitable end.

Liliana was the first to jump to her feet, cheering for the princess’ victory, joined soon by the rest of her friends. Their cheers had barely died down when Marianne re-entered the room, causing a new round of cheers and congratulations as they rushed to hug their friend. The group settled back down, the crown princess firmly in the middle as they continued to suffocate Marianne in compliments.

“So, who bet on me?” Marianne asked when the group had calmed down.

The third fight had already begun, but it was between two students from other classes, so they only paid it enough attention to glean vital information from the fight.

“No one, we all knew you’d win.” Liliana told her. Marianne blinked in surprise, something warm and soft crossing her face for a moment before satisfaction stole over her features.

“Damn right.” Marianne nodded with a cocky grin.

Liliana grinned back at her friend, reaching out a hand to ruffle her white curls affectionately. Their attention turned back to the fight going on, calling out fighting styles and any affinities they picked out. The fight ended with Vanessa Lincoln from class B winning. Marianne would be facing her later on in the tournament.

“Good luck, Dawn.” Liliana called out as the quiet girl slid from the shadows she seemed to always be hiding in to leave the room. Her fight was up next.

While she wasn’t really part of their group, or any group truly, the girl remained firmly outside any of the social cliques that had formed without making enemies, Liliana still hoped the girl would win. Dawn was one of her favorite opponents to fight, she was the only one in class S who could challenge Liliana’s Speed to any worthwhile degree.

The rest of Liliana’s group called out wishes for luck, as did a few of the other students in the room with them. Dawn stared at them all, tired and unreadable eyes gazing at the room. Liliana thought she saw some surprise hidden in those fathomless eyes for a brief second before it vanished. Dawn nodded at them before she slipped out of the door.

“Okay, bets for this round?” Emyr asked, holding out a hand.

“Ten on Dawn.” Liliana said immediately.

The calls for bets came in as their group bet for or against Dawn as the two students appeared on the illusion and listened to the rules read out. Dawn was against Salathiell Carlyll from class D. Food and drink were passed around as those closest to the refreshment table grabbed them for the group and handed them down the line as they all settled in for a show.

Dawn went with her typical strategy as soon as the round was called to start, melting into the shadows. Liliana kept her eyes on Carlyll’s own shadow and the shadows behind her, expecting Dawn to appear from there for a sneak attack. It was her favoured tactic when against a new opponent. Fast and effective, few people thought to check their own shadow for an enemy.

“Holy fuck.” Alistair choked out, coughing as the finger sandwich he’d been eating went down the wrong pipe.

Liliana couldn’t help but agree, her eyes widening as she watched the scene before them. Carlyll had a Gravity affinity, for damn sure. She’d just used some type of wide range Gravity spell on the entire coliseum, the sand compacting and cracking under her feet as she forced the gravity of the entire ring to be far heavier than it had been before. Dawn stumbled out of a shadow, body falling as she was crushed under the weight of the modified gravity.

“Can you do that?” Emyr turned on Anya, tone demanding as he pointed at the illusion. Carlyll was walking as if the spell she’d cast, and was still maintaining, didn’t affect her in the slightest. The sand cracking under her feet told a different story.

“Definitely not. All my abilities are focused on me,” Anya murmured, eyes glued to the scene before them as she tried to get her apple slice into her mouth and missed, poking her cheek.

Carlyll stopped a distance from Anya when the trapped rogue summoned shadows to strike at the other girl. It was obvious she was struggling; the gravity spell effect was slowly turning her shield an orangish yellow color. The gravity seemed to even affect her shadows, slowing them down considerably.

Carlyll tilted her head, looking at the trapped Dawn like a bird of prey considering an intriguing mouse. She held out her hand and cut through the air at Dawn. A ghostly image of a much larger hand, in what Liliana recognized as a Soul aspected attack, slammed into Dawn.

“What was that?” Alistair demanded as Dawn’s shield went fully orange.

“A Soul attack.” Liliana answered in a breath as she stared, unblinking, at the illusion.

Dawn was clearly struggling against the gravity holding her down, body half melted into shadows even as a shadow clone tried to claw itself out of Carlyll’s shadow. Giving up on fully emerging, the shadow cut a dark blade across the girl’s Achilles tendons, forcing her to stumble.

For a moment the gravity holding Dawn down seemed to falter, and she surged to her knees as Carlyll caught her balance. The shadow clone behind the girl capitalized on the moment of freedom, shadowy blades whirling and striking at the girl’s legs, forcing dark yellow to bleed across her shield until Carlyll could reinforce her spell.

“So she has to focus to maintain the channel.” Emyr muttered, eyebrows drawn as he analyzed the fight.

Liliana nodded and hummed in agreement. It made sense for such a strong area of effect skill. There were always checks and balances, and she was almost certain that spell was an ultimate skill of some type. Those always had the strongest effects, but oftentimes the harshest consequences. Liliana wasn’t sure if she’d say using a quintessential skill so early in the tournament was a good idea, but then again, she wasn’t sure if Carlyll would have gained and kept an advantage without it.

When the spell brought Dawn and her clone back down, Carlyll did not hesitate to let loose another strong Soul attack, directing a second one behind her at the already weakened shadow clone and forcing it to fade into nothingness. Trapped as she was with no more options for retaliation, Dawn was shortly finished off, making her the first of class S to lose an individual fight.

“Well, damn.” Liliana muttered, feeling a pang of sadness at her classmate’s loss.

“Guess there’s some hidden talent in other classes.” Koth’talan noted and even he looked a bit dispirited by Dawn’s loss. That was more of a surprise than anything, as Koth’talan made his general lack of interest and care for his classmates quite apparent.

This was the first proof they’d seen that the other classes were a very real threat to them. They’d all known that, objectively, but it was something else entirely to be shown it. Suddenly the possibility of not just losing their round, but losing their seats in class S was a far more real possibility than any of them had been comfortable considering before now.

Emyr collected the gold and handed out the winnings from the bet, but not even those who had won were in the mood to celebrate. Dawn wouldn’t be returning to the waiting room, and who knew if they’d see her in their class come the start of the next semester. With how rarely they saw anyone from other classes, their wishes for good luck might very well be one of the last times they saw the girl at all.

The tournament wouldn’t make or break a ranking, if one had done well enough in their classes, exams and assignments. But now, no one was as certain that the grades they’d gotten in their classes and on their exams would keep them safe. If they had been barely holding onto their seats before, this tournament could very well decide if they kept their seats at all. The tournament suddenly felt like it held far more weight than they’d assumed before.

The other three remaining class S students, Zir’elon, Leo Dunstan, and Diana, were equally subdued as the next round started. The mood of the room had quickly taken a far more solemn turn with the reminder that as privileged as they were in class S, there were hundreds of students gunning for their position, and evidently quite capable of stealing those seats out from under them. Class S had been confident that, having gotten their spots for their levels, they would be the best fighters here.

That naïve illusion had been thoroughly ripped away from them.