POV: MIGUEL CASTRO.
Outside the training arena, I silently observed the exchange of blows between the girls.
The afternoon sun had already passed its peak, so the heat was intensely present there. The cool shadows around the training court drew strange patterns.
Adding that to the misty and slightly dark atmosphere that Renata had created, it made the court's appearance distinctive, a truly unique atmosphere.
I had asked them to try to innovate, to challenge their own limits.
I wanted to see them experimenting with different approaches, thinking of new means and techniques to confront each other, and everything indicated that the proposal was met.
They had accepted the challenge with seriousness. I saw it in the way they moved, in the energy beams that traced quick and improvised lines in space, in the concentrated tension in their eyes.
This wasn't just training. It was a test.
'They are taking this very seriously… And that's great'
It was an encouraging observation.
I had been convinced of their potential that afternoon, but seeing them applying their enchantments under pressure, face to face, revealed nuances that had previously escaped my understanding.
It was like watching two artists experimenting with new strokes on a canvas.
They knew what they wanted to do.
They had clarity of intention, but the execution still left something to be desired; it was evident that it had uncertainties and imperfections.
Not due to lack of ability, but lack of refinement. Of experience and maturation.
Of course, there was the emotional factor: they were friends. It was natural for them to hesitate at the idea of a more direct or lethal attack.
However, despite that, they fought with ferocity. A ferocity that was contained, disciplined, but present.
Helena, in particular, surprised me. She adopted a posture I hadn't seen in her before: firm, calculated.
She advanced with precision, using her enchantments fluidly and multifunctionally.
She strengthened her senses to amplify her reflexes, summoned specters to provide cover and distraction, and molded geometric constructs that forced Renata to move in unfavorable trajectories.
Her action patterns branched out like growing limbs, a living equation that adapted to each new variable. Always adding a new layer, a new operation in that calculation.
Renata, on the other hand, was the perfect counterpoint. She was resistant, focused, and controlled.
Her enchantments didn't have the same variety as Helena's, but they worked like the gears of an old clock: each element supported the next with surgical precision. Her specialty was cohesion.
She mastered her marks; because they were similar in nature, she used this to her advantage almost organically.
And, at the beginning of that confrontation, this gave her an advantage.
She maintained a solid defense, almost impenetrable, observing Helena's movements with attentive eyes, waiting for the perfect opening.
But, as in a dance, the roles began to reverse.
Helena pressed. At close range, her skill with physical constructs and geometric manipulation made her practically unreachable.
She found an opening. She attacked. And I saw Renata get hit twice.
For a moment, I thought Helena had won.
But the third assault was thwarted by an emergency conjuration: the Mirror of the Lost Soul.
A powerful, but demanding, defense. Renata conjured it with precision at the last second, avoiding an impact that could have taken her out of the fight.
From then on, everything changed. Renata began to rebuild herself. It was subtle, but visible.
With each conjuration of the Oneiric Reservoir, a new layer of energy seemed to emerge from within her, as if the darkness itself revitalized her.
It was an interesting process, after all, her enchantment was undefined.
'I think I'll research more about enchantments of this type… It might be useful somehow'
Returning my attention to the combat, I saw Helena beginning to show signs of exhaustion, such as heavier breathing, slightly less fluid movements.
Renata became more precise, more intense.
The energy balance showed itself at that moment. Her darkness ceased to be merely a veil and became a weapon.
Helena tried to compensate with Observation of the Shadow, seeking to anticipate illusory movements with pattern reading and magical intuition. She was talented, no doubt.
But her style was too demanding. She divided energy between conjuration, analysis, and constant movement. It was a versatile tactic, yes, but draining.
And then, it happened. A small error, that meticulous detail… Helena advanced, believing she had identified an opening.
Her eyes shone with conviction, an instant of certainty that betrayed her. It was a refined illusion from Renata.
A false reflection, conjured with the Darkness of Dreams.
The terrain ahead seemed safe, but it was an illusory mirage. The instant Helena planted her feet for the attack, she slipped.
Her senses, momentarily deceived, couldn't react in time because her sense of balance was momentarily fooled.
Renata took advantage. A clean, direct shot, reinforced with the Essence of the Dreamer.
The impact was dry.
It hit Helena's shoulder with force, throwing her to the ground. She tried to get up.
Staggered. Failed.
Renata remained standing.
Her shoulders trembled with the effort, her breathing was irregular.
But she was there. Whole. Victorious.
I walked to them, in silence. Helena, sitting on the ground, looked at me with half-closed eyes. A smile mixed with bitterness and pride curved her lips.
She knew what that defeat meant. And accepted it.
"It's over," I declared, with a neutral voice. "But both learned".
I extended my hand to Helena and helped her up. She nodded in thanks, still breathing with difficulty. I turned to both.
"Your talent is undeniable. But it's clear that your strengths follow distinct paths"
Pointing to Helena, I continued:
"You have the potential of an elite generalist. Versatile, adaptable, creative. But you need to learn to conserve energy. To moderate your strength. Not every combat requires maximum intensity all the time. Your powers are a bonsai; learn to prune them"
Then, I looked at Renata:
"And you are a rare specialist. Your marks intertwine in a unique way. Your mastery is impressive. But the absence of close-range tools still leaves you vulnerable in certain situations".
Both listened in silence.
"The key is balance. Train based on your styles, yes. But learn from each other. Helena, learn to focus. Renata, learn to vary. Adaptation is what defines the greats"
I remained for an instant observing their faces.
There was tiredness there, but also determination.
The fight was over.
But the lesson… was just beginning.