Round of 16(2)

The midday sun beat down on the coliseum floor, turning the sand into a furnace of shimmering gold. In the center of the arena, Nigel, the ebony-skinned druid of the Shadowed Peaks Principality, hunched low, his breath coming in ragged gasps. Golden dreadlocks, usually meticulously braided with animal totems, hung limp behind his sweat-soaked back. Opposite him stood Selene, the moon mage of the Silvercrest Dominion. Her silver hair, usually serene like moonlight on a calm lake, was plastered to her forehead with exertion. Pale blue eyes, once filled with playful challenge, were now narrowed in intense concentration.

Across the arena, the opposing team mirrored their exhaustion. Jenna, the Ice Princess of the Frostwood Realm, held her position with a practiced stoicism, but the tremor in her hand holding her glacial staff betrayed the toll the battle had taken. Her pale blue dress, the color of a glacier, clung uncomfortably to her, damp from the humid air. Beside her, Zera, the Sunfire dominion's champion, leaned heavily against her flaming longsword. Her fiery red hair, usually a vibrant mane, lay in a tangled mess, and the normally bright sparks in her eyes were dulled by fatigue.

The crowd, a cacophony of roars and cheers just moments ago, had fallen into a tense silence. The air crackled with a different kind of energy now, thick with the scent of ozone and burnt earth, a testament to the fierce magic unleashed moments before.

Nigel slammed the gnarled staff topped with a now-dull green crystal into the sand with a groan. The impact sent a localized tremor through the coliseum floor, but no vines erupted this time. Nigel's magic reserves were running on fumes.

Across from him, Selene let out a shaky breath. Her lips were cracked and bloodied from channeling spells for an extended period. She raised a hand towards her forehead, wiping away a bead of sweat that threatened to drip into her eye. Her gaze flicked to Nigel, momentarily meeting his, a flicker of empathy passing between them amidst the exhaustion.

A low rumble came from Jenna's direction. Selene's focus snapped back to the Frostwood champion. Jenna had raised her glacial staff, a thin sheen of frost creeping up her arm as she channeled her magic. With a muttered incantation, a wave of frigid air surged from the staff's tip. It wasn't a flashy display, but the sheer power of the spell was undeniable. The sand beneath Selene's feet began to harden, a treacherous film of ice forming.

Reacting on instinct, Selene thrust her own palms forward, summoning a shimmering shield of moonlight. The wave of ice slammed into the shield, a chilling hiss escaping as the two magics clashed. Selene grunted, the force of the impact pushing her back several steps. The shield held, but the drain on her magic was undeniable.

A strangled cry from her side pulled Selene's attention away from Jenna. Nigel lay sprawled on the sand, Zera kneeling on his chest, the tip of her flaming longsword inches from his throat.

"Give up," Zera rasped, her voice hoarse but her eyes burning with a desperate kind of fire. The heat radiating from her longsword was already leaving a faint burn mark on Nigel's neck.

Nigel coughed, blood trickling down the corner of his mouth. "Never," he croaked.

Selene's heart pounded in her chest. Nigel was out of commission, and facing both Zera and Jenna alone was madness. But surrender wasn't an option. Panic clawed at her throat, but she forced it down, her mind racing, searching for a solution.

A memory surfaced – a risky maneuver she'd only seen performed by a legendary moon mage in ancient texts. It was a desperate gamble, but it was their only chance.

Taking a deep breath, Selene focused the last vestiges of her magic into her hands. A faint glow emanated from her palms, growing brighter with each passing moment. Her vision blurred at the edges, the world narrowing to just her and the growing sphere of moonlight energy in her hands.

From her peripheral vision, she saw Jenna and Zera exchange a confused glance. But before either of them could react, Selene unleashed the spell.

A blinding beam of moonlight erupted from the sphere, bathing the arena in an ethereal light. It wasn't the sharp, cutting energy of her previous attacks. This was a different kind of moonlight, a warm, soothing light that seemed to drain the very heat from the arena.

A collective gasp rose from the crowd. Zera cried out, the heat emanating from her long sword abruptly diminishing as the magical flames flickered and died. She stumbled back, clutching the now-cold blade, her fiery spirit momentarily extinguished.

Jenna, however, remained on her feet. But even she couldn't resist the ...hypnotic pull of the moonlight. Her glacial staff, usually radiating a constant chill, began to frost over rapidly, the magic within seemingly struggling against the strange warmth of Selene's spell. Her breath hitched, a look of dawning comprehension flickering across her icy blue eyes.

Selene, her vision fading at the edges, poured the last dregs of her magic into the beam. It was a one-shot attempt, a desperate gamble on a power she barely understood. The arena grew warmer, the sand beneath their feet turning from a gritty surface to a smooth, almost glassy sheen. Zera, her fiery magic extinguished, slumped to the ground, unconsciousness claiming her.

Jenna, however, still fought. With a Herculean effort, she channeled all her remaining magic into her staff, attempting to counter the encroaching warmth. But it was a losing battle. The frost on her staff intensified, creeping up her arm, turning her fingers numb. A pained cry escaped her lips, and she dropped the staff, collapsing onto one knee.

The moonlight bathed the arena in a soft, ethereal glow, the warmth draining all fight from Jenna. The monstrous glacier she'd conjured earlier began to melt at an alarming rate, shrinking back into the ground with a series of ominous groans.

Finally, with a gasp that seemed to suck the very air from the arena, Selene collapsed. The moonlight beam sputtered and died, plunging the arena back into the harsh glare of the midday sun.

Silence descended, thick and heavy. The crowd stared, stunned, at the still figures on the sand. It took a moment for the referee, a wizened old man with a shock of white hair, to process what he'd just witnessed.

Then, he cleared his throat, his voice hoarse. "The winners... by disqualification... Selene of the Silvercrest Dominion and Nigel of the Shadowed Peaks Principality!"

The crowd erupted in a cacophony of cheers and boos. Some cheered the unorthodox victory, others jeered at the seemingly unfair advantage Selene's last spell had provided. But amidst the chaos, a single, mournful note rose above the rest – the mournful cry of a raven circling high above the arena. It was a solitary sound, a somber echo of the fierce battle that had just ended, and a reminder of the true cost of victory.