There was something sacred about observation.
At least, to Seraphina.
The crowd watched to cheer. The instructors watched to judge.
But she watched to understand.
She stood by the polished obsidian walls of the arena, arms folded, crimson sash trailing behind her. Most of the audience had settled into the upper balconies, murmuring amongst themselves, craning for a better view.
Not Seraphina.
She didn't need proximity.
She needed pattern.
---
First: Kael Aurelius
Kael stepped into the arena with that sunny grin he wore like armor.
The instructor before him was a former lightning knight. A brute. Known for shattering stone with his fists. But Kael didn't even flinch.
He smiled.
> "He grins too much," Seraphina thought.
The instructor launched forward—pure aggression.
Kael dodged.
Elegant. Too elegant.
He let the man come close enough to graze him, and then—crack—his own magic pulsed outward, not from his palms, but from the soles of his feet. The ground lit up. A circle of pure lightning exploded upward.
The crowd gasped.
> "He's masking something," Seraphina whispered in her own mind.
"That kind of precision doesn't come from arrogance. It comes from fear. He's practiced every step… because he's terrified of making the wrong one."
She squinted at his stance.
> "Even now, he's holding back. He doesn't like overpowering people. But he can. That's dangerous but smart "
---
Second: Ivan Virellia
Ivan's expression barely shifted as he entered.
He wore blue and silver like he'd been born in ice. His white hair was tied back, not a strand out of place. His opponent was a dual-blade specialist, someone who moved like wind, fast and chaotic.
Ivan didn't even raise a hand at first.
The audience murmured.
> "He's stalling. No… baiting."
The moment the instructor lunged, Ivan stepped forward with perfect, chilling silence. A mist spiraled from the ground. The temperature plummeted. And in one sweeping arc of his palm—snap—ice locked his opponent's leg.
Then the second leg.
Then the arms.
He didn't move a muscle after that. He just watched.
His opponent couldn't breathe.
The duel was over in thirty seconds.
> "He doesn't fight for victory," Seraphina thought. "He fights for silence. For control. For stillness."
She tilted her head.
"He's not cold because he's cruel. He's cold because he's already burned out."
---
Third: Celeste Nairoveth
Celeste didn't walk into the ring. She glided.
Her robes shimmered like wealth itself. Her water blades sparkled as they danced above her fingers—fluid, arrogant, untouchable.
Her opponent bowed slightly before they started.
Celeste didn't return it.
The moment the bell rang, she unleashed a cyclone of water needles—twisting, weaving, wrapping around the instructor. She barely moved her body.
It was a puppet show.
Her water did the talking.
Until—
The instructor broke through with a flaming dash, almost catching her shoulder—
And Celeste's mask cracked.
She retaliated with a shield of compressed ice-laced water that threw the man into the wall.
Silence fell.
Even the audience stared.
"She's angry," Seraphina noted.
"She believes she has something to prove. But only because someone once told her she'd never be good enough."
Her eyes narrowed.
> "She fights to erase something. Maybe a name. Maybe a memory."
---
And Then: Him.
Lioren Valerborne hadn't been called up yet.
But Seraphina's eyes found him anyway.
He leaned against the cold marble post, one arm lazily slung across his chest, hair falling slightly into his face. Shadows curled lightly at his boots, flickering like playful serpents.
Someone whispered his name nearby.
Whispers always followed the Valerbornes.
> "I don't like how he watches," someone said.
"Like he's waiting to slit your throat the moment you blink."
Seraphina didn't speak.
But she watched him.
And her thoughts didn't flinch.
"He's dangerous. Not because of his magic. But because he knows how not to use it."
She remembered the spar.
The way he let her hit him. The way he didn't flinch, but didn't retaliate the way he could've.
> "He doesn't win fights. He ends them."
She hated that she noticed.
> "He never jokes unless it's a cover. Never smiles unless he's hiding."
And yet… there was a part of her that recognized something.
Buried. Silent. Familiar.
A memory that didn't belong to this life.
"Don't look back."
Her fingers twitched.
She didn't know why.
---
Seraphina stood at the corner as she made her conclusions
"The three anomalies fight for control. For legacy. For validation."
"But we fight for something else, don't we, Lioren?"
"We fight because we've already lost everything once."