It started simple enough.
The group sat outside the inn, digesting breakfast and a bit of post-meal chaos, when Nyxar and Vespera — the ever-calm, sharp-eyed duo — did the unthinkable.
They began debating.
Who was stronger? Ember or Sylas?
The air went still. Even Bug and Spirit stopped their quiet whisper plotting.
Nyxar crossed his arms. "Clearly, Sylas is stronger."
Vespera tilted her head. "Incorrect. Ember is superior."
Their tones were perfectly neutral, voices smooth and unbothered — yet there was an undercurrent of tension, the kind that could split atoms.
Nyxar's red eyes narrowed slightly. "He's more strategic. Calm under pressure."
Vespera's gaze didn't waver. "Ember is unpredictable. She adapts."
It was, by all accounts, the most emotionally charged conversation two emotionless people could ever have.
Ember blinked. "Wait… are you two seriously arguing about us?"
Sylas scratched his neck. "I… guess so?"
Then Ember grinned — the kind of grin that spelled disaster.
"How about we settle this," she said, standing up, cracking her knuckles, "with a duel?"
Sylas, thinking it was going to be a fun, friendly spar — a few scratches, a little magic light show — nodded. "Sure, why not?"
Nyxar and Vespera turned to each other in silent agreement, then declared in unison:
"Whoever wins is the better cook."
Vespera added, deadpan, "And whoever loses is the worse animal and plant documenter."
Now both Ember and Sylas were fired up.
The stakes had been raised to absurdly personal levels.
They stepped out of the village to a grassy open field just before the treeline, about twenty meters apart.
The sky was bright blue, the wind gentle — the perfect day for total destruction.
Sylas tapped his staff against the ground, vines creeping up around his boots like obedient snakes.
Ember rolled her shoulders, her orange hair glowing faintly, her eyes flickering like twin embers.
"Try not to burn down the forest," Nyxar said dryly from the sidelines.
"No promises," Ember replied with a grin.
Then — silence.
A single leaf drifted between them.
The instant it touched the ground—
BOOM!
Ember launched the first move, a volley of rapid fireballs whistling through the air. Sylas darted to the side, each explosion lighting up the grass behind him. He retaliated with a surge of vines bursting from the soil, snapping toward Ember's ankles.
She jumped, twisting midair, landing in a crouch before sending a fire punch straight into the ground, the flames rippling outward in a shockwave. The vines caught fire instantly, curling into ash.
But Sylas was already gone.
A voice behind her: "Yo-ho."
She spun — too late.
Thick vines erupted from beneath her feet, wrapping around her arms and torso, pinning her in place. Sylas crouched a few meters away, smirking.
"Gotcha."
But Ember only smiled. Her body began to glow — heat waves radiating from her skin. Flames flared around her, burning through the bindings inch by inch.
Sylas's expression tightened. He slammed his staff down, summoning multiple vines that coiled together like ropes, merging into one massive, reinforced tendril thicker than a tree trunk.
Ember burst free just as it lunged — too late to dodge.
WHACK!
She was sent flying into a tree, the trunk cracking on impact. Ember groaned, rolling to her feet, smoke rising off her shoulder.
Sylas recalled the giant vine, resting his staff casually on his shoulder. "Yield?"
Ember wiped her mouth, grinning wider. Her eyes flared brighter — molten orange now.
"Not even close."
She raised her arm, fire swirling around her palm, condensing — swirling faster, brighter — until it became almost liquid.
With a roar, she slammed her fist forward, releasing a wave of semi-liquid fire that burned through the air like molten glass.
Sylas raised his vine shield to block — the impact made it glow red, then burst into flame. Thinking fast, he split it apart into dozens of smaller flaming vines and launched them back at her.
Ember laughed, weaving between them, punching a few aside with blazing fists, her movements wild but precise. Sparks danced around her like a storm of fireflies.
When the last vine fell burning to the ground, she dashed forward, charging another attack.
Sylas drove his staff into the earth. The ground split, and massive tree roots surged upward, intertwining into a wall.
Ember struck with a fiery wave — but the roots held. Hardened, thickened, alive with Sylas's energy. They lashed out, whipping toward her.
She leapt back, barely dodging.
Sylas smiled — calm, collected, grounded.
Ember growled — flaring hotter, brighter, wilder.
She began to spin, channeling fire in a spiral motion around her hands. The flames condensed, glowing white-orange, becoming a molten whip.
She cracked it forward — WHSSSHHH! — the whip slammed into the root wall, burning and tearing through layer by layer. Sylas gritted his teeth as he reinforced the structure.
Ember's grin widened. "You know what? This isn't enough."
She let go of the whip — the fire in her hands morphing again, stretching, reforming.
She drew an invisible bowstring — flames coalescing into a blazing bow and arrow.
With one smooth motion, she fired.
Each shot exploded against Sylas's barrier, chunks of burning wood flying in every direction. He couldn't stay still much longer.
Thinking quickly, he summoned a spike of roots and launched it at Ember. She dodged — barely.
That moment of distraction was all he needed. Sylas turned and sprinted into the forest.
Ember followed, fire trailing behind her. But the forest seemed alive — branches and roots moved to block her, slowing her pursuit.
She started burning through them, each step lighting the ground beneath her feet. "Coward!" she yelled, half-laughing.
Sylas crouched deep in the woods, closing his eyes, connecting with the forest itself. The trees responded — the vines shifted. The ground seemed to breathe.
Branches lashed at Ember. She dodged, blasting fire in all directions, turning the battlefield into chaos. Then she saw movement — a crouched figure ahead.
She smiled. "Got you."
She gathered all her remaining energy, condensing a single massive arrow of molten fire. The air shimmered with heat.
Then she fired.
The explosion shook the forest, fire spiraling up into the sky. Ember stumbled, the glow fading from her eyes and hair, exhausted.
But when she looked closer… the figure she hit wasn't Sylas. It was a wooden decoy.
Before she could react, a cold touch pressed against her neck — the tip of a staff.
She looked up. Sylas stood behind her, calm as ever.
"I win," he said simply.
Ember exhaled, half a laugh, half a sigh. "You just got lucky."
He smiled faintly, offering her a hand. "I was smarter."
She took it, standing up, brushing off ash and dirt. "Fair."
They walked back together, smoke rising behind them, Nyxar and Vespera watching from a distance.
Vespera crossed her arms. "Ember fought impressively."
Nyxar nodded. "And Sylas won logically."
Bug whispered to Spirit, "Should we… maybe not prank them for a few days?"
Spirit nodded quickly. "Agreed."
And as the camera panned out over the charred forest and smoldering field, the narrator sighed:
All that destruction… just to prove who's the better cook.