The arena was packed with more bodies than Annette had ever seen in one place. From every walk of life, it was a cross-section of the city packed together and roiling with energy. Every member of the Eternal Archive was in attendance, staff and friends included. Places of honor in the first rows were held for them, flanked on either side with city officials, military officers, and the rich and famous. The noise buffeted her senses where she stood with Madam Curson and Devon.

None of that mattered, because Laurel and Martin weren't here. This was meant to be the finale of the festival, a show to top all others. And the stars of the spectacle were. Not. Here.

At some unseen signal, Devon jogged around the arena floor. The hard-backed dirt and sand was the preferred surface for Coroteque and would be the setting for the sparring match between their two master vortex cultivators. Annette was not optimistic about its fate. From her limited experience, collateral damage was a fact of life. When the enchanter passed closer to their position, Annette watched as he pressed something into the ground and continued on. After criss-crossing the Arena several times, he rejoined them at the official's box.

"We should be ready to go when you are." He turned to the one out of place member of their little company, a man who did much of the announcing at the regular game matches. "As I am the one most likely to understand what is going on, I will provide commentary, but you are welcome to assist."

The nervous man looked at Curson and did a half-shrug, half-nod move that indicated he would do as he was told.

"It seems irrelevant if the main actors do not show for their performance." Curson's voice was the usual crisp, no-nonsense tone she used, but Annette could detect the undercurrent of panic entwined with anger.

Devon cocked his head at the both of them. "Do you want the whole building destroyed?"

The official started choking.

"Maybe if you have Laurel turn it into a proper Arena the venue could be used in future. But as things stand, if you have Martin and Laurel fight here, it won't be standing afterwards."

"Why then, have we gathered here?"

"Of course those idiots didn't bother explaining," Devon said. "We may as well start, it will be easier to show you."

Without waiting for confirmation, or actually answering any of their questions, Devon jumped down into the center of the stands. Suddenly, his voice was echoing out over the entire stadium.

"Ladies and Gentleman, welcome! Over the last three days we have seen wonders crafted by the people of Verilia. Inventions the envy of the world over. Masters of craft displaying skills gained over a lifetime. All, bringing glory and honor to this fair city.

"Today, we end with one final display. The masters of the Eternal Archive, protectors of this city. Their names echo across centuries, warriors of unparalleled skill, dedicated to keeping the people of Verilia safe, here today to give a display of that power. And the heights any of you might reach with the same dedication and discipline they have shown.

"You know them, you love them, now give a rousing welcome…"

As Devon paused for effect, the air shimmered. Mana pulsed out of the spikes he'd planted in the earth, until it settled into four massive sheets, and four smaller ones, a ring of panes visible by anyone in the arena. She felt her jaw drop as the sheets of mana resolved themselves into a view of the ocean, centered on two figures she knew very well. No sign of Verilia at all just empty sea out to the horizon.

Martin stood on the surface of the waves, an arrogant smirk on his face, arms crossed like he had not a care in the world. Not to be outdone, Laurel floated a handful of meters in the air. Hands held loose at her sides, body language open, easy. Both were dressed in the training outfits they usually favored, but not ones that Annette had ever seen. Martin's was a deep blue, almost black, while Laurel's was a pale gray.

"On one side we have Martin, Battlemaster of the Eternal Archive, Titan of the Deep, Master of Land and Sea. He has turned back tidal waves and armies alike, give him a warm welcome."

At Devon's pause the crowd went wild. Even those who had never heard of Martin were screaming until their throats went hoarse. Her sect was no exception. In their uniforms of black, with the sect sigil picked out in silver thread, the roars and cheers showed in no uncertain terms how much they loved Martin. Or maybe just how much they loved any sort of extravagant display

"On the other side, Laurel Stormblade. Sectmaster of the Eternal Archive, Terror of the Skies, Victor of a Hundred Battles, Defender of Verilia."

The screams got impossibly louder. Their reputation had gone up and down, but Laurel slaying the leviathan was not an event in the city's history that would be forgotten.

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"Best friends, today they have agreed to a friendly spar, to show us what a true cultivator is capable of, and inspire those of you who walk the path of magic to keep reaching. Don't worry, they'll be careful. But not too careful." Devon said the last with a wink that somehow everyone in the stadium was able to see.

"The battle begins when I get to zero."

"Ten.

"Nine."

The countdown continued and Annette found herself holding her breath. On the screens, Martin and Laurel were both smiling, spreading out to face each other from dozens of meters apart. She could tell they were speaking to each other but the words weren't projected along with the images.

The angle was just good enough that Annette could read Laurel's lips for the last words. "You're on."

"Zero."

The world exploded.

***********

The whole ocean came at her, spears of ice mixed in with the water. A tidal wave resolved into jets of water, highly pressured and all aiming at her from a dozen different angles. Laurel felt the smile stretching her face. They never got to go all out. Or mostly. They were still friends and injuries were counterproductive.

To keep it sporting, she had agreed to an altitude limit. Which meant there was no flying up into the atmosphere allowed. And why should she? This was a fight. Laurel dove forward, dodging between the streams. Martin changed their direction, of course. He was just as excited as she was. Under, over, spiraling through, she threaded like a needle between the net Martin wove. When they collapsed into a wall in front of her, a blast of lightning and air cleared a hole she sped through.

Not bad for a warm up.

Martin was waist-deep now, sinking into his domain. Laurel grinned. The pendants they both wore would project a view, even under water. She didn't even slow as she dove in after him. Some people might be worried about facing a water cultivator beneath the waves. Some people were cowards.

Mana tore the water from its stable currents, trying to crush her. She pushed back. All Laurel needed was a hair's breadth around her body to stay under her control, so that was all she took. Let the people of the city appreciate the control she'd gained serving them.

This time when she approached, Martin met her fist for fist. They had agreed to no weapons, and minimal lightning. Really if Martin won it wouldn't count at all. Good to keep in mind as a flurry of blows rained down. Martin was slightly better than Laurel at hand to hand. Slightly. But some weird interaction with his cultivation meant that far from being slowed down underwater as she was, his movements were sped up.

One nasty kick caught her full in the ribs, sending her shooting through the murky water. Distance would help reset her momentum, so she let it grow between them. Which was a great idea, but one Martin had anticipated.

Her path arced. Further and further, until she was being whipped in a circle, a hundred meters across, with Martin at the center. His man saturated the area, twisting a normal patch of sea into a whirlpool. Faster. Then faster still. More water joined the gyre. Even a few unlucky plants and fish were whipped by.

Laurel reached out with her own mana. Her laugh flew away in a few bubbles.

*********

Cooper leaned forward, along with the rest of the crowd. That the whole stadium hadn't already screamed themselves hoarse was a minor miracle. His own slack-jawed amazement was embarrassing, but he couldn't help it. Lightning and spears of ice, tidal waves and razor sharp winds were being tossed back and forth the way Cooper and his brothers had played with a leather ball growing up.

Stars above, he had just watched Laurel dive into the water after Martin like it was nothing. Now a whirlpool was forming. A massive, insane formation that could rip a ship in half. He had read all the books. There was no way Martin could keep control of that much water for too long.

Staring so hard he had to force himself to blink, Cooper watched Laurel tossed around. The madwoman was laughing. A few moments later he realized why.

Directly above the center of the whirlpool, where the sea level was getting lower and lower, a tornado was forming. Smaller than Martin's technique, but more focused. At the same time, ice was crystalizing in the whirlpool, ripping apart anything that happened to get caught. Rock too, that he must have ripped from the sea floor.

The view narrowed in on Laurel where they could all see a few cuts appear and heal over as she blasted through the obstacles.

"Not many would challenge the Titan of the Depths underwater, but such courage is what makes our good sectmaster so daunting a foe. Let's see what happens when you throw a tornado into a whirlpool." Devon's voice was still booming out over the stands.

He had taken to the role with surprising enthusiasm. Apparently watching these two beat on each other in spectacular fashion was a treat for the man. Cooper spared a glance to the platform, where the announcer was staring longingly at the piece of copper projecting Devon's voice.

Then it was back to the action. From their view, the audience could see flashes of lightning within the tornado.

The enchanter's question was answered a heartbeat later. An explosion. That's what happened when you combined a whirlpool with a tornado. At least that's what happened when they were both magical techniques from the strongest people in the world. Water and steam blurred the view screens. Each flashed white for a moment in what Cooper guessed was an overload of mana.

The crowd went wild. Next to him Leander stood up, fists clenched while staring at the projection. When the view resolved, it was like nothing had disturbed the scene at all. A flat ocean, with two figures clearly visible. One hovered, while one stood on the surface. This time both were dripping wet and bleeding.

There was one breath of a pause. Banter, probably, if he knew his sect officers at all. Then they were back at it. It was somehow more violent without the larger techniques. Laurel skimmed across the waves, dodging whips of water or chunks of ice, at the same time shooting lightning bolts at Martin, which he absorbed most of with water, some few breaking through his guard and singing his skin.

"This is them holding back," he said, hollowly. None of the others were listening anyway.

*********

Martin was having more fun than he could remember in ages. This was way better than the fight against Dariella, when everything he tossed around got absorbed by whatever shield she had. They would have to train Eric up quickly. With a solid healer they could go even harder against one another. Bring some weapons to the party. As it was, Laurel was ignoring a whole section of her cultivation, which meant the victory wouldn't really count. Sheets of ice and bolts of lightning filled the air between them. Gently, without much mana infused. They weren't trying to kill each other.

When she next closed, Martin met Laurel, this time on the surface. Even without the water aiding his movement, he was better unarmed than Laurel. He preferred it, usually. They traded blows for a few breaths. Each would have pulverized a mortal's body, but they had been strengthened beyond anything the onlookers could imagine. Next time they had to put on a show, he would have to break something impressive to get the point across.

An opening. Small, most wouldn't be able to capitalize, but Martin had grown up learning Laurel's tells. An arm held just a hair too high and it was over. Inside her guard, around her neck, one arm back, legs immobilized in ice, rapidly sinking through the waves.

A whisper of mana told him she yielded.

"It doesn't count. Let me have a sword next time and let's see how it goes."

Martin let go of the mana he was still holding, everything except a disk of ice formed beneath them, bringing them back to the surface. "Whatever you have to tell yourself."

They breached the air and both smiled and started to wave. They were too far out to see the city, but he could still feel the eyes.

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