Quarter Finals(1)

The air crackled with nervous energy, thick enough to chew on. Sweat plastered Elian's brown hair to his forehead, stinging his eyes. Across the dusty and wrecked arena, Draven loomed, a dark silhouette in his raven-feather robe. The raw power radiating from him felt like a physical weight pressing down on Elian, a stark reminder of the darkness he'd used, still a dull ache deep in his gut.

"Alright, you two ready or what?" boomed the announcer, his voice barely a squeak over the roaring crowd. Elian squeezed his eyes shut, forcing a smile that felt more like a grimace. "Always," he rasped, his voice rough. Draven, ever the silent storm, simply stared back, his dark eyes glinting with a cold, predatory hunger.

The starting gong clanged, a harsh sound that scraped against Elian's already frayed nerves. He didn't waste a second. Grunting with exertion, he threw a desperate hand forward, whispering an incantation under his breath. A wall of ice materialized with a hiss, forming a shimmering dome around him. It wasn't perfect, a few cracks already spiderwebbing across the surface, but it would have to do.

Draven, predictable as a viper, didn't hesitate. A guttural growl ripped from his throat as his hands danced in the air. Dark energy crackled at his fingertips, coalescing into a swirling mass that erupted into a flock of raven-shaped shadows. Their screeching filled the air, their beaks glinting with a malevolent light as they hurtled towards the ice dome.

The impact was brutal. Each raven slammed into the ice with the force of a battering ram, shattering on impact. The air around Elian grew colder as his ice barrier strained, more cracks appearing like a spiderweb under assault. He gritted his teeth, forcing himself to stay focused. Another muttered incantation, this time barely audible over the din, and the ice dome morphed. Jagged spikes erupted outwards, transforming it into a deadly, glistening flower.

The remaining ravens, their numbers considerably thinned, swerved to avoid the icy daggers, their dark energy dissipating harmlessly into the air. Draven, for the first time, seemed surprised. His predatory gaze darted around, searching for a weakness, a single chink in Elian's glacial defense. He spotted a small gap between two of the spikes, a sliver of vulnerability.

With a burst of speed fueled by dark magic, he launched himself towards the opening. His hands stretched out, fingertips crackling with dark energy. Elian reacted on instinct. A light ray, sparked by the last embers of his light magic as he was tired and hadn't fully recovered. The light ray snaked towards Draven. It struck true, a blinding flash erupting as it connected with the dark energy.

The impact sent Draven flying backward with a choked gasp. He landed hard on the edge of the arena, his dark robe smoldering faintly. Elian's ice dome flickered and then shattered with a deafening crack, raining down harmlessly on the dusty ground. He winced, the strain of using two different magic types simultaneously a dull throb in his chest.

The crowd erupted in a cacophony of cheers and gasps. Draven, pride wounded, rose to his feet with a snarl. The darkness around him intensified, swirling into a vortex that pulsed with an ominous hum. Elian knew that spell – Raven's Embrace. It drained an opponent's magic, leaving them weak and vulnerable. Panic clawed at his throat. He couldn't get caught in that.

Suddenly, a desperate plan sparked in his mind. He squeezed his eyes shut, focusing on the smallest flicker of warmth within him – the residual darkness from his previous fight, a dying ember. He coaxed it, nurtured it, willing it to grow. When he opened his eyes again, they glinted with an unnatural fire.

With a guttural roar, mirroring Draven's own, Elian raised his hand. A wave of dark energy erupted from it, meeting Draven's vortex head-on. The clash was brutal, messy. Light and shadow wrestled in the air, crackling sparks dancing around them. The ground trembled, sending puffs of dust swirling into the air. Elian, fueled by pure desperation, pushed forward, his dark magic surging against Draven's.

The stalemate didn't last long. Draven, clearly surprised at Elian's control over the darkness, faltered. His vortex sputtered and died, leaving him reeling. Elian seized the opportunity. With a ragged breath, he weaved another spell, the air around him buzzing with raw energy. A fireball, brighter and fiercer than before, shot towards Draven, striking him with a deafening crack.

Draven's body convulsed. He crumpled to the ground, unconscious. Elian stumbled back, his vision swimming. His breath came in ragged gasps, his body a symphony of aches and pains. The darkness within him felt like a spent ember, barely flickering. He looked down at Draven, unmoving on the dusty ground, and a wave of nausea washed over him. Had he… killed him?

The crowd, initially stunned silent by the raw power of their clash, erupted in a delayed wave of cheers. Elian's ears throbbed, the sound distant and distorted. He felt a hand on his shoulder, the warm touch grounding him. He looked up, squinting through the sweat stinging his eyes, to see the referee's concerned face.

"Winner, Elian!" the referee bellowed into his ear, his voice distorted. Elian managed a weak nod, the elation of victory overshadowed by the sheer exhaustion and the lingering aftertaste of darkness.

As the cheers intensified, a team of healers rushed onto the arena floor, their movements brisk and professional. Elian watched, detached, as they carefully examined Draven. Relief flooded him when one of the healers gave a curt nod. Draven was unconscious, but alive.

The healers helped Elian out of the arena, his legs shaky and uncoordinated. He barely registered the congratulations and pats on the back from his teammates, his mind replaying the fight in fragmented images. The raw desperation, the chilling power of darkness, the fear of losing control… it left a bitter taste in his mouth.

Reaching the locker room, Elian collapsed onto a bench, his head spinning. A cold cloth materialized on his forehead, startling him. He looked up to see Rylan, his teammate who lost, her normally bright red eyes shadowed with concern.

"Easy there," she said, her voice gentle. "You scared the daylights out of us with that darkness stuff."

Elian winced. "I… I didn't have a choice. His Raven's Embrace…"

Rylan cut him off with a soft pat on the arm. "We get it. Look, you won. You're in the semifinals. But next time, maybe try not to turn into a walking shadow monster, okay?"

A humorless chuckle escaped Elian's lips. "Yeah, easier said than done."

He closed his eyes, the cool cloth a welcome relief. The victory felt hollow. He'd won, but at what cost? The darkness had saved him, but it had also shown him a terrifying glimpse of its power. He had a feeling this was just the beginning, and the darkness within him wouldn't be so easily controlled next time.