Chapter 13: Blood, Magic and Hidden Marks

The sun had not yet reached zenith when the sound of the bells of the Arkanum Academy echoed through the enchanted sky of the floating island. It was a warning - a duel was approaching.

Pandora, still confused by the latest events, walked alongside Amy to the magical Colosseum. The bleachers were full of students, teachers and magical beings from every ward. The atmosphere was dense, electrified by expectation and tension. In the center of the arena, Raven appeared as an elegant shadow, his imposing presence making silence fall like a mist.

"Today, we will face something different," he announced, his firm voice reverberating through space. " A conjured creature, composed of ancient traces of unstable magic. And who will face the challenge... will be Pandora."

Pandora felt her heart quicken, but did not hesitate. She descended the steps of the arena and stopped in front of the magic circle. Her eyes met those of Raven for a moment, and something unspoken passed between them.

The creature appeared with a guttural roar. It was not made only of flesh, but of raw magic. It had undefined forms, as if time and space were contorting around its body. As soon as he smelled the blood of Pandora - perhaps a drop that flowed from a small cut on his finger -, the creature stirred violently.

"She... is reacting to your blood," Amy muttered, scared.

Pandora tried to cast a containment spell, but the creature absorbed the magic, distorting it as if it were made of broken mirrors. A blow pierced Pandora’s magic shield, cutting her shoulder and throwing her to the ground.

Screams spread in the stands. Raven advanced, but Amy stopped her.

"Leave it to me!"

Amy ran to Pandora and knelt beside her. Her hands trembled for a moment before resting on the wound. A blue-violet light began to pulsate on his fingers. It was a deep healing, which did not come only from ordinary magic, but from something ancestral, silent... divine.

Pandora arched her body as she felt the energy flow through her veins. The wound closed slowly, but the real impact came from the symbol that lit on his skin: a circular rune with lines branching like tree roots.

"Amy..." murmured, panting.

Amy’s eyes widened. She recognized that symbol. It was the same one she saw in her dreams, in fragmented visions of another era.

The creature roared again, but this time hesitated. The symbol shone with increasing strength, radiating an ancient power. Pandora stood up, eyes now charged with a different light. She did not know what she was doing, but something inside her - something primal - guided her movements.

With a gesture, he conjured up a barrier that slowly broke the creature down, not with strength, but with harmony. It was as if he were returning the creature to the fabric from which it was made.

Silence.

Then applause. Amazement.

Raven watched every detail, his fists clenched.

Amy hugged Pandora, still panting.

"You were amazing..." he whispered.

Pandora, however, was in a trance. I felt as if I wasn’t totally there. His gaze crossed with that of Raven, who shook her head subtly.

"It shouldn’t have happened so soon," the teacher murmured to herself.

Meanwhile, in the shadows of the Colosseum, strange eyes watched, taking notes, whispering into the void.

The old war was moving.

And the key... had been activated.

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The sound of drums could be heard from a distance when Morgana appeared in the central courtyard of the Arkanum Academy. Her presence always carried a wild and magnetic aura, but that night there was something different in her - as if she was willing to lower her guard for an instant.

"Pandora" called when she found her saying goodbye to Amy. "The House of Instinct is giving a party today... in the Black Forest. A tradition of ours. I thought you might... want to come."

Pandora hesitated for a brief second. The memory of the forest brought an involuntary shiver: the smell of the leaves, the memory of the dream that shared with Amy, the weight of what she carried now. But then he looked at Morgana - her golden eyes, the straight and blunt way - and felt that maybe she needed it. A moment out of the chaos.

"I will," she said with a small smile. "Thank you for inviting me."

When they reached the clearing, the party was already boiling. Werewolves in their human forms danced around a huge enchanted fire, whose flames danced in shades of green and blue. There were barrels of mead, magic fruits and a tribal music that seemed to pulsate with the heart of the forest.

Pandora looked around, observing every detail. The last time she was there, the mood was completely different. A tension hovered in the air at that time. Now there was freedom - even if unstable.

"Here," said Morgana, approaching with two glasses in hand. "Lunar hydromel. We only do it on nights like this."

Pandora accepted the drink and took a small sip. The taste was intense, slightly sweet, with an energy that warmed inside.

The two of them sat on a blanket stretched out in the grass, watching the flames crackling. The sound of laughter and music oscillated around, but between them a comfortable silence was created.

"I never thought I’d be here with you," Morgana said, staring into the fire. "" But... I’m glad she is."

Pandora looked at her, surprised by the honesty in tone.

"Morgana... why do you and Raven have so much tension between each other?"

The werewolf sighed, turning the cup in her hands.

"My mother... was the leader of the pack. She died in a duel with Raven." Her gaze was fixed on the flames. "I was young, but I remember. It was fair, they said. But the hurt stayed. Since then... the leadership fell to me. I had to grow by the mill."

Pandora felt her chest clench. She reached out, hesitant, and squeezed Morgana’s with delicacy.

"I’m sorry about that."

Morgana stared at her for a moment, as if she didn’t expect any solace. Then she smiled lightly, the kind of rare smile she didn’t use with anyone.

"Thank you, purple fairy."

And there, under the enchanted glow of the fire, the two shared a sincere moment - a silent truce between sorrows and magic.