Awaiting the Storm

Relief washed over Elian like a tidal wave. The first round matchups were announced, and as expected, none of them included participants from yesterday's chaotic showdown. The princess, the injured students – they were all given a much-needed reprieve to rest and recover.

But that didn't mean Elian wasn't a bundle of nervous energy. His gaze darted from the hastily scribbled brackets on the notice board to his friends, then finally settled on Rylan. Her face, usually a mask of stoicism, held a flicker of apprehension he hadn't seen before.

"Hey," he said, his voice rough with suppressed anxiety. He moved closer to her, their shoulders brushing.

Rylan offered him a small, strained smile. "Hey yourself. Ready for the show?"

"About as ready as someone can be with a breakfast of nerves and stale bread," Elian admitted with a sheepish grin.

Rylan chuckled, a sound that did little to dispel the tension clinging to the air. "Sounds delicious."

Elian reached out, hesitantly at first, and pulled her into a quick hug. The warmth of her body, the familiar scent of leather and faintly of cinnamon (a leftover from the breakfast she probably hadn't touched), offered a brief moment of comfort.

"You'll do great," he murmured into her hair. "You always do."

Rylan leaned back, her eyes searching his. He saw a flicker of something in their depths – gratitude? Maybe even a sliver of doubt battling with her usual confidence.

"Thanks, Elian," she said, her voice soft. "I… I needed that."

A herald's booming voice cut through the pre-match chatter. "The first round of the Arcana Tournament is about to begin! Please escort yourselves to the designated areas."

A collective sigh rippled through the crowd. Students, most of them strangers to Elian and his group, rose from their tables, their faces a mix of excitement and apprehension. Rylan straightened her shoulders, her gaze turning steely.

"Duty calls," she said, a hint of a challenge in her voice.

Elian nodded. "Go get 'em, Rylan."

He watched her disappear into the throng of people heading towards the arena. A knot of worry tightened in his stomach. He wanted to be out there with her, facing the unknown opponent, strategizing on the fly. But for now, all he could do was wait, the stale aftertaste of breakfast and nervous anticipation clinging to his tongue.

He turned to Marco, a silent question hanging in the air.

"Don't worry," Marco said, sensing his unease. "She's the best. You know that."

Elian forced a smile. "I know. Still…"

Marco clapped him on the back, a gesture meant to be reassuring. "We'll be cheering you both on, loud and obnoxious as always. Now, let's go find a good spot to watch and maybe pick up some last-minute intel on her opponent."

Elian nodded, the knot in his stomach loosening just a fraction. He couldn't fight Rylan's battle for her, but he could be there, supporting her in whatever way he could. The first round of the tournament was about to begin, and Elian, along with the rest of the academy, held his breath, waiting to see who would emerge victorious.

The roar of the crowd was a dull thrum beneath Rylan's helmet. Sweat beaded on her forehead, stinging her eyes despite the cool morning air. Her armor, a mix of scavenged leather and gifted steel plates, felt heavy and unfamiliar. It wasn't the weight that bothered her, it was the chafing against old scars, a constant reminder of past battles. Across the arena, her opponent, a boy barely out of his teens, shifted nervously. Fernando Flores, his name tag proclaimed, from the Jade Kingdom. His blonde hair peeked out from a mismatched helm, a cheap jade amulet dangling precariously from his neck. His staff, crafted from a pale, polished wood, held an origami crane at its tip, its folds crisp and precise. Paper magic. An unusual choice, but underestimating opponents was a luxury Rylan couldn't afford.

The herald, a portly man with a voice that cracked from overuse, boomed, "Welcome, contestants! Representing Arcana Academia, Rylan of the Storm! And representing the Jade Kingdom, Fernando Flores!"

A cheer erupted from the stands, a cacophony of unfamiliar faces and voices. Rylan offered a curt nod to Fernando, who responded with a hesitant wave, his youthful face etched with a mixture of excitement and fear. Back in the crowd, Elian's face was a beacon of support amidst the blur of color. He caught Marcus's eye, the prince of the Jade Kingdom. Marcus, normally a picture of easy charm, was a bundle of nervous energy. His knuckles were white as he gripped the railing, his gaze bouncing between Rylan and Fernando.

"Sorry, bro," Marcus mouthed, his voice lost in the din. "Gotta cheer for him, you know?"

Elian nodded, a wry smile pulling at his lips. He understood the bind Marcus was in. Loyalty to his kingdom, however misplaced in this instance, was more important than personal alliances.

The herald cleared his throat, his gaze sweeping the arena. "Are both contestants ready?"

Rylan straightened, the leather of her gloves creaking with the movement. "Ready."

Fernando took a shuddering breath, his eyes darting between Rylan and the crowd. "Y-yes," he stammered, his voice barely audible over the roar.

The herald raised his hand, his voice a final crackle of anticipation. "Then let the match begin!"

The crowd erupted, their cheers a deafening wave. Rylan, however, remained focused on her opponent. Fernando, his face pale, raised his staff, the origami crane at its tip fluttering ever so slightly. A gust of wind whipped through the arena, carrying with it the scent of freshly cut paper. Rylan braced herself, her hand instinctively moving to the satchel slung across her shoulder, her fingers brushing against the cold metal of throwing knives. The first battle of the second day of the Arcana tournament had begun.