Chapter 14: Chapter FOURTEEN

The arena consisted of several different combat zones: a forest, a sandy plateau, and a rocky section of the mountain. Beneath the stone edifice of the bleachers, Mia could see five gigantic black iron doors leading to the stage.

The bleachers fell silent as a metallic clang rang out, amplified by the acoustics of the mountain. When the noise stopped, the blonde held her breath. She couldn't tell if it was the apprehension of what she was about to witness or if it was excitement that was beginning to win her over, an emotion that seemed to spread like wildfire through the ranks of the spectators. A sense of the unreal enveloped her as the contestants entered the arena.

Vampires, werewolves, centaurs, magicians, and Vilas trod the sands, each race in unison, at their own pace. Mia jumped up from her bench and rushed to the railing to try to see her friend Arry. She recognized her red hair and her figure somehow through the other magicians. Oz was at her side, his tail wagging in excitement. They must have been no less than seven hundred. Werewolves were the second most numerous with around four hundred individuals. The vampires were two hundred, as were the centaurs. The Vilas were only five.

Mia sat back, finding that she couldn't watch her friend more closely with the crowd of magicians surrounding her. These had stopped in the center of the stage, visible to all, facing the stands. Mia followed their gaze to a small balcony she hadn't noticed before. It was much higher than the platform on which she was, and only had a few stone seats on which sat people she had never seen. Logically, the balcony was reserved for important people she guessed.

Probably the headmaster and a few other teachers, she told herself, trying to observe them.

She thought she recognized Vassili's blond hair, but she saw nothing but abstract silhouettes at this distance. During her observation, an individual rose from his seat and moved forward to face the arena. He had a slim figure and graying hair. She assumed he must be the headmaster of the school.

"Welcome to all of you, students, friends, and family, on this magnificent tournament day. May it take place under the sign of honor and camaraderie, like the previous ones. As for you, fighters, I remind you that it is forbidden to kill your adversary as well as to harm the public. The tournament is not a massacre and anyone who breaks these two rules will be punished accordingly."

His voice echoed off the mountain walls, filling the silent arena. Mia suspected that magic helped him spread his words. She didn't know if it was possible, but it seemed extremely likely. His tone sounded light and playful, but his words were harsh and stern. It was just a reminder of what shouldn't happen, and despite confirming that no tournament had gone wrong before, the fact remained that the possibility of this one going wrong was pretty much real.

There's no reason for this to go wrong, she reassured herself, quickly dispelling such thoughts.

"Now... Let the tournament begin!" the headmaster roared, raising his hands in the air and lowering them quickly to mark the start.

The euphoria won her along with the other spectators when the symphony of trumpets sounded once again as the competitors dispersed throughout the arena. Each race seemed to choose their favorite terrain according to their abilities. Werewolves and centaurs took refuge in the forest, and vampires rushed to the mountain. The magicians recomposed into small groups and scattered in all areas according to their type of magic and the Vilas followed the same pattern by spreading everywhere.

They are already not very numerous, but in addition, they do not stay together? she wondered, curious. Maybe I could ask the question to the one behind me...

Mia quickly swallowed her question when she turned to face him and he gave her a stern look.

"What?" he sent her in a jaded tone.

OK, never mind.

She didn't even bother to answer him and repositioned herself, her gaze towards the arena. For the first two minutes, Mia could have heard a pin drop. There was no movement, no sound, nothing to indicate that creatures were about to confront each other. Then the atmosphere changed and became heavy, almost suffocating. If the sky hadn't been cloudless, she would have bet thunder was going to roar. And she wasn't that far from the truth.

Within seconds, several explosions were heard from various places in the arena. Roars began to echo and chaos spread through the area. The fighting had started. The public, intoxicated, was screaming in unison to encourage members of their race. Mia felt like her heart was going to explode from the suspense and the overdose of things happening everywhere, but her mind was as captivated as the crowd.

Her eyes couldn't take in all the information they were receiving, but she was able to learn a lot about the abilities of the races. Werewolves and vampires mainly fought with their fangs and claws, which was hardly surprising. It was what she expected, as much for their ability as for their appearance.

Werewolves morphed into large, powerful wolves, perhaps slightly larger creatures compared to how they were portrayed in her world. The vampires kept their humanoid appearance, except for their face and decomposed complexion which gave them the appearance of the living dead. Their fingers were lengthening and ending in sharp nails which they used as blades.Centaurs were fast and powerful creatures that fought with their bare hands, galloping through the forest and using their surroundings to their advantage to surprise their enemies. Their horse bodies gave them a natural strength that allowed them to deliver devastating hoof kicks to their opponents. She could see one or two in action when some trees were uprooted by what she assumed was a magic spell.

For Vilas, she didn't know because she couldn't recognize them. If they were changing into something other than their human appearance, she hadn't seen them. It was impossible to follow them in this crowd of creatures hungry for victory.

Magicians, on the other hand... Expecting magic and seeing it in action was definitely not the same thing. Some threw balls of fire or lightning bolts, others threw rocks, or turned into eagles, tigers, wolves, bears... The most discreet were the magicians who seemed to bet on strategic placements and traps. She never saw them in action in direct combat, but the result of their spells was amazing. Immobilization, blindness, explosions, miasmas, projections, et cetera. They had chosen the plateau as their favorite terrain, which they had strewn with obstacles to be able to fight from a distance.

Chills went up her spine as she realized that all these attacks didn't seem so harmless.

It's because I'm a helpless human, she comforted herself, they're all a lot tougher than they look.

A hubbub of whispers began to form in the bleachers. The festive atmosphere of the tournament was transformed into a heavy and nervous atmosphere. For Mia, who had never seen a tournament, it was impossible to know why the tension was rising between the spectators. However, something told her that the course of events was not as expected.

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In the fray, Mia's gaze fell on Arry fighting alongside Oz and another wizard. They had gathered on the plateau to escape the pack of werewolves who had chased them. The combat area was divided into two camps: the werewolves in their lupine form on one side and the magicians on the other. The two groups gauged each other for a moment as if each side was waiting for the other to open hostilities. Finally, one of the wolves came forward and howled, quickly followed by his comrades. They rushed toward the magicians, fangs, and claws ready to subdue their opponents.

Mia rushed to the edge of the balcony again to get a better view of the stage. Worry was starting to chill her brain as her friend was about to retaliate. They were outnumbered: ten magicians against thirty wolves.

The magician at Arry's side threw some kind of grenade-like device from afar that released a thick miasma on the battlefield. They were on their own now. The blonde could hear the screams of protest from the public, frustrated at not being able to attend the confrontation. This did not reassure her.

Anyway, there's nothing I can do to help Arry, except hope it's okay...

Explosions rang out, the flames and wind dispersing the miasma in some parts of the combat area, but it was not enough to observe the fight. The opaque gas spread again, encircling the entire stage in its smallest corners. Mia and the audience were completely blind to the unfolding of events.

A scream rang out followed by several deafening growls that gave Mia goosebumps. It didn't bode well. The few students next to her rushed to the edge of the platform, agitated. A hubbub arose in the audience and panic seemed to win over the crowd.

Gathering her courage in both hands, she approached the group of students. They didn't even notice his presence.

"Um... excuse me... what's going on?" she asked, her voice trembling with apprehension.

The students turned their heads towards her for a moment but quickly turned away. Whatever was happening, it was apparently serious enough that they weren't offended by the little human speaking to them.

"The...the howl. A werewolf has been beaten down", replied a panicked young man.

Beaten down? Did he mean dead?

A lump formed in her throat as she returned to her seat, stunned. Not that she cared that a werewolf had died, but her friend was right in the middle of the fray, within range of an enraged pack of wolves who had lost a comrade. It smelled like danger.

"Enough!" ordered the headmaster in a booming, dry voice. "Cease all fighting and disperse this miasma! Immobilize those who resist!"

The message seemed to be aimed at the frantic, drunk wolves to avenge one of their own. The clashes had ceased everywhere else, and the students were now gathering on the set to stop the fighting for good. Wizards were busy dissipating the miasma from the outside and immobilizing some recalcitrant werewolves.

Mia thought her heart was going to explode as she looked around for her friend. She must have been in the center of the opaque cloud, the still concealed part of the arena, in which the fight seemed to continue to rage unaware of the headmaster's order.

Suddenly, the heart of the black miasma turned red as something grew within it. The thing, getting redder and redder, seemed to stir the air around it, ready to propel itself forward. Like a concentrated ball of fire just waiting to be launched.

What the...? Is it heading towards... me?

When the realization hit her, all her muscles tensed. Unable to move, paralyzed by fear, she stared briefly at the ball of fire that was inexorably approaching her position. That would sign her death warrant for sure this time. Her eyes closed on their own before the intensity of the flames scorched her retinas. It had happened so fast that she simply couldn't do anything.

No second chance and another world this time...

Her breath hitched as she felt pressure against her body. Someone had grabbed her by the shoulder and put their arms around her. When her eyes widened in shock, she saw nothing. Darkness completely surrounded her. A second later, the impact hit them. Her head was thrown back as hands held her by the shoulders. The heat of the flames rose to her head and her body was covering itself with a thin film of sweat to cope with the temperature rise.

As the shock of the impact had torn her from the stranger's arms to push her a few centimeters back, she finally saw him. The Vila who had been messing with her since she had met him at the library. His face was twisted in pain, but that wasn't what shocked her the most.

The darkness in which he had enveloped them was disappearing. Holes allowing light and heat to pass formed. As she fell back, she saw them. His wings. Magnificent black wings, resembling those of bats, except that they stopped at the bottom of his back. The impact of the fireball had charred them, devouring them like a flame devouring a piece of paper.This image filled her with sadness for half a second, before her head hit the bench behind her and she immediately slipped into unconsciousness.

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