Chapter 174: My Turn
{Elira}
~**^**~
Still, something about the way Erica looked at me, so unsurprised, left a strange feeling behind.
Like she had already known this meeting would happen, and had decided long before how it would end.
I exhaled slowly, forcing the tension out of my shoulders. There was no point holding on to hurt that didn’t change anything.
I wasn’t the little girl who used to trail behind Regina anymore, hoping someone would choose her. So, I let it go.
Whatever reasons Erica had for keeping her distance, I couldn’t hate her for them. Perhaps she had her own battles and scars.
I turned and kept walking down the hall.
I didn’t tell anyone about seeing her that day, not even the brothers.
***
The next day, being Wednesday, passed faster than I expected, and before I could blink, my friends and I were sitting in the auditorium alongside the remaining students, waiting for the names to be called for today’s duel.
The low hum of voices in the hall was restless, but my palms were cold. And standing on stage, in his usual calm and precise manner, was Rennon.
He held a small folder in one hand, his glasses low on the bridge of his nose as his voice carried clearly through the speakers.
"The following students will participate in today’s preliminary combat duels," he began, his tone steady and unhurried.
My heart started its nervous rhythm again.
All around, students shifted and whispered, each one straining to hear a name that wasn’t theirs.
Cambria leaned close to me and whispered, "You will be fine, Elira. Even if your name comes up, you will win. You have trained harder than anyone."
"Right," I murmured, but my hands were still trembling slightly in my lap.
Then Rennon started reading the names.
Each name landed like a drumbeat in the air, followed by gasps, groans, or relieved sighs. Ten names passed, then fifteen. My heartbeat synced to the fast rhythm.
"Number seventeen," Rennon continued, glancing briefly down at the list before speaking again. "Elira Shaw."
For half a second, everything stopped. The sound of my own name felt too loud and too clear.
Juniper’s head turned sharply toward me, eyes wide. Cambria’s hand found mine in silent reassurance.
I managed a small, unsteady smile, but my chest was tight, and the noise of the auditorium seemed to blur.
Rennon kept reading the last few names as my thoughts spun in circles. When he was done, he closed the folder and looked up.
"If you did not hear your name," he said, "you may leave the hall."
A murmur swept through the crowd, then the sound of chairs scraping filled the room as hundreds of students began to rise.
My friends stood too, a little hesitant as their gazes flicked toward me.
Nari leaned down first, squeezing my shoulder. "You’ve got this, Elira. Remember what you’ve been training for."
"Stay calm," Cambria added softly. "And trust yourself."
Juniper gave a small nod of solidarity, while Tamryn offered a reassuring smile. "We will be waiting to celebrate your victory, okay?"
I tried to smile, even as my stomach knotted itself tight. "Thanks," I whispered.
Then they were gone, swallowed by the wave of students filing out of the hall until the echo of footsteps faded, leaving only twenty of us behind.
The silence that followed was sharp and heavy.
Rennon stood at the front, his presence steady as always. A few other professors lingered nearby, their expressions unreadable as they observed us from the stage.
"You twenty," Rennon said, his tone formal now, "step forward."
We did—me and nineteen others—forming a loose line across the front of the stage. The air smelled faintly of polished wood and nerves.
Rennon’s gaze swept over us, assessing, memorizing. "You will be paired in twos. The matchups will be random."
At his signal, one of the professors approached, reading from a short list. One by one, names were called, students stepping closer to their assigned partners. When mine came, my heartbeat stuttered again.
"Elira Shaw and Kallista Dorne"
I turned to the girl stepping toward me. She was tall, sharp-eyed, and unmistakably confident. Her lips curved into a faint smirk as her gaze travelled over me from head to toe.
"So, the infamous omega," she said lightly, voice smooth as silk. "Try not to break too easily."
I said nothing, just met her gaze while trying to steady the breath in my chest.
After the last pair was formed, Rennon nodded once. "Follow me."
We trailed behind him through the corridor and down the short flight of stairs that led to ESA’s largest training hall.
The place buzzed faintly with energy—spacious, gleaming under bright lights, the air thick with old echoes of combat.
As I stepped inside, my nerves tangled tighter, replaying every tactic Zenon, Rennon, and Lennon had drilled into me—breathing patterns, movement shifts, shield formation.
"Protect your Anchor Cluster. Stay balanced. Don’t let fear dictate pace."
The professors took their positions along the edges of the hall. Rennon moved to the centre, his calm voice slicing through the growing tension.
"These duels are preliminary," he said. "They are meant to assess performance and endurance. You will each face your assigned opponent. The match will last ten minutes."
He paused, letting the words sink in.
"If, by the end of those ten minutes, no victor has emerged, there will be an immediate rematch. You are to continue until one of you can no longer rise."
A ripple of murmurs moved through the students. My partner smiled faintly beside me, stretching her arms as if she was already imagining my defeat.
Rennon’s tone hardened, final. "Remember, you are not permitted to use supernatural abilities. Anyone caught doing so will face disqualification and disciplinary action."
His eyes found mine briefly—just for a heartbeat. I knew the look. It was a silent warning.
Then he stepped back and raised his hand. "Pair One, to the mat."
The first two students moved forward, the air around us thrumming with anticipation.
My turn would come soon. My palms tingled, and beneath my ribs, my heart felt like a drum fighting to break free.
I drew a slow, steady breath and whispered silently to myself, ’Stay in control, Elira. Just stay in control.’
With a blow from the whistle, the match between the first pair kicked off.
I pressed my palms against my knees, watching every move. The sound of their feet striking the floor, the thud of impact, and the low grunts of effort all felt sharper and louder, as if my senses had been wound too tightly.
Each pair fought differently. Some rushed in recklessly, all strength and no strategy. Others were calm, precise, controlled.
I found myself analyzing them without meaning to, tracing their rhythms in my mind, hearing Rennon’s and Zenon’s voices from training echo faintly behind every move.
"Watch their footing," I could almost hear Rennon say.
"Anticipate the shoulder, not the hand," Zenon’s voice added, calm and exacting.
And Lennon’s teasing grin followed, "Hit before they think you’ll move, sweetheart."
My throat felt dry.
By the time the fifth pair finished, the hall had shifted into a kind of quiet fever—every sound carried, every movement felt heavier.
Then Rennon’s voice cut through the air. "Next, Elira Shaw and Kallista Dorne."
My pulse kicked into overdrive. I stood, wiping my palms against my uniform, and stepped forward.
Kallista was already there, waiting, stretching with a smirk tugging at her mouth.
"Don’t worry," she murmured, voice soft but laced with mockery. "I will try not to leave too many marks."
I met her gaze, but I didn’t say a word in return.
My body was too aware of everything—the echo of the professors’ footsteps, the faint scent of polish on the mats, and the way my heart drummed in my ears.
Just then, Rennon gave the signal, and the duel began.
Kallista was fast—much faster than I expected. Her strikes came sharp and sure, cutting through the air with practiced precision.
I blocked the first few, barely, but the next caught me square in the side, knocking the breath out of me.
Sharp pain flared immediately as I stumbled. But I didn’t fall.
Her movements were fluid and efficient while mine felt heavier, like my body was half a second behind my own thoughts.
I tried to recall Rennon’s lessons, to focus on defense, on conserving energy, but Kallista didn’t give me space to think.
Blow after blow came, until my muscles screamed, until the edges of my vision shimmered with light.
I hit the mat hard, and gasps echoed from somewhere behind me.
"Get up, Elira!" someone shouted—I didn’t know if it was one of the professors or the voice in my own head.
I pushed off the ground, my arms trembling. Kallista’s smirk widened. "You should stay down," she said. "You will save yourself the humiliation."
The fire in my chest burned hotter at that. I lunged forward, not perfectly, not even cleanly, but with enough force to catch her off guard.
My palm grazed her arm before she twisted and sent me spinning.