Dominic
The arena was alive.
Not with sound but with energy. It buzzed in the air like a brewing storm, thick and heavy, pressing down on every breath. Above us, the night sky stretched wide and black like velvet. The full moon hung low, glowing silver and solemn like an eye that saw everything. Its light poured down on the sacred dueling ring in long, pale shafts, casting shadows that felt older than time.
I stood at the center of the ring. The earth beneath my feet was hard-packed, dusted with ash blessed in ancient rituals. Around us, the Elders sat high in a perfect circle. Their robes whispered in the wind. Warriors lined the stone tiers beyond them. Luna Liora had come from Silvermoon. So had the Lunas from the Southern, Eastern, Western, and Northern clans. They sat like statues
