Sylvio.

Their competition ended with neither of them coming out victorious. They both had been injured, healed, and were out of breath. The sun was already setting behind the mountains, and the stars shone in the orange-painted sky faintly.

Fjall, during the whole ordeal, had actually fallen asleep, but Ayra was still kept on her toes, as was Mordeu. They were both waiting, watching to see what would happen. Meanwhile, Alana had wandered off somewhere.

Seeing as they had been at this for hours, the two people decided to stop and call it off. The agreement was made with no words, but only gazes of fatigue when their swords met again.

Cillian smiled and then backed away from Freya, placing his sword back into the sheath.

"This was fun," he chuckled.

Freya nodded her head. She was too cocky, believing that if she had used her magic of nature, there was a possibility of her actually winning.