Aric conjured a blinding flash of light, momentarily disorienting Malekith. He followed up with a surge of golden flames, scorching his own skin. Malekith danced away from the worst of it, but Aric could see the edges of his dark robes curling and blackening from the heat.
“You’re holding back,” Malekith said in a low, rumbling taunt. “I can feel it. Let go, my star. Show me your true power.”
Aric hesitated, the words striking a chord deep within him. Malekith was right. He’d been trying to control his magic, to keep it from spiraling out of bounds.
But there was no more time for doubt. Malekith was closing in, his form a dark blur in the midst of the flames. Aric drew in a deep breath, and with it, all the fear and uncertainty that had been weighing him down. He focused on the bond between them, the thread of connection no cruel proclamation from the Sovereign could end. And then, with a primal scream, he let the magic loose.
The flames that erupted from Aric’s hands were blinding, a searing nova of golden fire. The air itself seemed to ignite as they licked toward Malekith with unstoppable force. Aric’s vision swam, the world reduced to the all-consuming light and heat. He was dimly aware of the crowd’s screams, of the heat of the flames licking at his own skin. But through it all, he held tight to the magic, letting it guide his movements, his instincts.
The flames surged around Malekith, a wall of fire and heat that should have incinerated him where he stood. But then Malekith moved, and with a casual gesture, he unraveled the flames that had surrounded him. Aric’s eyes widened in disbelief as he watched Malekith weave his own magic into the flames, bending them to his will.
It was a dance, a deadly, intricate ballet of power and skill. Malekith moved with a fluid grace that belied his size, every movement precise and purposeful. He made it look effortless, but Aric could feel the raw power thrumming beneath the surface. Malekith was holding back, too, and Aric knew that if Malekith truly unleashed his full strength, Aric wouldn’t stand a chance.
From the sidelines, it must have looked like a fierce duel, the two of them evenly matched. But Aric was starting to discern the patterns now, the subtle feints and openings that Malekith was allowing. He was guiding Aric, leading him down a path of Malekith’s choosing.
Aric tried to find a way through Malekith’s defenses. He couldn’t outmuscle Malekith, but maybe he could outsmart him. Aric launched a volley of magical arrows, but he knew even before they left his fingertips that Malekith would deflect them. It was a feint, a distraction from the true attack that Aric had already set in motion.
Then Malekith’s counterattack took shape. It was a spell Aric knew well, one he’d used countless times in training—a lance of pure, condensed magical energy that could pierce through almost any defense. But then Malekith’s magic wove around it, a shroud of darkness that twisted at the air. The spell that should have been a simple attack was suddenly so much more. It was a trap, a snare that ensnared Aric’s own magic and threatened to crush him with its weight.
Aric’s mind raced as he sought a way out. He couldn’t match Malekith’s power head-on, but maybe he could use Malekith’s own attack against him. With a quick, sharp gesture, Aric unraveled the threads of Malekith’s magic, siphoning off the spell’s energy and shaping it into a shield that deflected the attack back toward its source.
Malekith’s eyes widened in surprise as his own spell bore down on him. He twisted away, but the attack still grazed his side, leaving a dark, smoking gash in his pale flesh.
“A clever move,” Malekith said. “But can you sustain it?”
And then he was moving again, the shadows swallowing him up as he vanished from sight.
Aric scanned the arena, searching for any sign of Malekith’s presence. Malekith was right; he’d been holding back, afraid to fully embrace his power. But no longer. If he was going to survive this, he needed to trust in himself, in the magic that flowed through him and bound him Malekith.
Aric closed his eyes and let his magic guide him. He felt the flames within him, the raw, untamed power that was his to command. He reached for the shadows, too, the cool, inky darkness that Malekith had taught him to shape. And then he wove them together, a dance of fire and night that was all his own.
The darkness swirled around him, loping like a wolf.. The flames of his magic lanced out into the night, turning the darkness into searing blades that cut through the air. He felt a surge of exhilaration as the shadows obeyed him, as the very fabric of reality bent to his will.
The duel raged on, a storm of fire and darkness that consumed the arena. Aric’s muscles ached with the effort of maintaining the spells, his skin slick with sweat as he strained to wield his magic to its fullest. He moved on instinct now, his mind and body one with the flames that surrounded him. The heat and light of it threatened to consume him, but he held tight to the thread of control that he’d woven.
Malekith was a dark shadow at the edge of the flames, his form flickering in and out of sight as he wove his own magic. The crowd’s excited cries washed over Aric in a distant wave. The only thing that mattered was the man before him, the demon prince who moved with a deadly finality.
Aric’s heart pounded in his ears as he launched another volley, each one honing in on Malekith’s position. But Malekith was ready for him, and sent them awry, turning them to harmless sparks of light. Aric pressed the attack, the flames surging toward Malekith with blinding intensity.Yet Malekith wove through the flames with inhuman speed. He launched a counterattack, a lance of shadow that pierced the air with a sickening sound.
Aric danced out of the way at the last possible moment, the shadow grazing his side. He hissed in pain as the darkness seared his skin, but he didn’t dare slow down. He couldn’t give Malekith an opening. He conjured a wreath of flame to shield himself, the heat of it searing his face as he huddled behind the barrier.
“You’re getting there,” Malekith said, cutting through the roar of the flames. “But you can do better. I know you can.”
Aric grunted at the challenge in those words. He was giving everything he had, tapping into reserves of magic and willpower he didn’t know he possessed. But Malekith was right. He was still holding back, still afraid to fully wield the power that surged within him.
Aric summoned the magic to his fingertips. The flames danced around him, a living, breathing extension of himself. He felt the shadows at the edges of his vision, the cool darkness that Malekith had shown him how to shape. He wove them together, the two elements of his magic blending and merging until they were one.
The flames surged outward, a torrent of fire and light that filled the arena. Aric’s vision swam with color as the flames danced before his eyes. He felt a surge of triumph as the crowd’s cries reached a fever pitch, but he forced himself to focus. He searched for the telltale flicker of shadow that would signal Malekith’s approach.
And then he was there, at the edge of the flames, his dark eyes burning with a fierce light. A smile tugged at the corner of his lips, and for a brief moment, Aric allowed himself to hope.
But as Aric’s hand closed around Malekith’s throat, he knew it was over. Malekith’s skin was hot and slick with sweat, his pulse thundering beneath Aric’s palm. Malekith’s eyes locked with his, and for a brief, fleeting moment, Aric saw something raw and unguarded in them. Something that made his breath catch in his throat, and his grip waver for just an instant.
Malekith’s smile widened, the look in his eyes daring Aric to follow through.
Aric’s hold on Malekith’s throat crumbled to nothing as he stumbled back, his heart pounding in his ears. “I can’t,” he said, all but sinking to his knees. “I won’t become like you.”
Malekith straightened, his hand coming up to his throat as he coughed, his skin already knitting back together. “A shame,” he said, his tone as cold as Aric’s skin was burned. “You might have survived a little longer.”
Before Aric could respond, a thunderous roar shattered the air, silencing the crowd and freezing both combatants in place. Aric’s heart leapt into his throat as he looked up to see Sovereign Zaxos rising to his feet on the viewing platform, his molten gold eyes blazing with fury.
“I tire of this treachery!” Zaxos bellowed, his voice reverberating through the arena. “Kill them both!”
In an instant, the world erupted into chaos. The air crackled with conflicting energies as demon guards and bloodthirsty spectators alike surged forward, their own magic flaring to life. Spells began to fly from all directions, a storm of deadly intent converging on the arena floor.
Aric’s mind reeled, struggling to process the sudden shift. One moment, he’d been locked in an intricate dance with Malekith, and the next, they were facing annihilation. He felt a presence at his back and turned to find Malekith there, their shoulders pressed together as they faced the oncoming horde.
“Well,” Malekith said, his voice tight with tension, “this wasn’t quite how I imagined our dance ending.”
Aric’s throat was dry, his heart pounding a frantic rhythm against his ribs. “Any brilliant ideas?” he asked, his eyes darting from one threat to the next as he tried to gauge which would reach them first.
A humorless chuckle escaped Malekith’s lips. “Stay alive?”
With that, the world exploded into a maelstrom of magic and violence. Aric’s hands moved of their own accord, weaving spells faster than he’d ever managed before. Golden fire poured from his fingertips, meeting the first wave of attacks head-on. He felt Malekith’s magic surge behind him, shadows lashing out to ensnare their assailants.
Aric’s mind raced, trying to formulate a plan even as he fought for his life. They were outnumbered, outgunned, and trapped in an arena with no easy escape. The raw power emanating from Sovereign Zaxos was suffocating, a constant reminder of the impossible odds they faced.
Malekith’s mind was already racing with possibilities, his tactical instincts honed sharp in the face of danger. “Combine your fire with my shadows,” he shouted over the din of battle, his voice barely rising above the howl of the flames and the shouts of their enemies. “Weave them together, a shield, not a wall.”
