"Very well," Siloune said at a deep pitch. "Until I hear word of your success, then, perhaps the wheels of Dominion bureaucracy may slow down for a while. Best of luck, Champion of Hircine."

Time resumed jarringly to its precious, frantic moment. Teroiah turned around too late to prevent Meesei delivering her power-draining spell. Almost in spite of the power Meesei threw into dissipating the magicka in Teroiah's reserves, she had little left to use in the first place. Her immediate attempt to push a spell into Meesei's arm sputtered and fizzled. She was already gritting her teeth in the struggle, though she now held her mouth open in an infuriated scream. The half-drawn bound dagger she attempted to pull into Mundus flickered into mist before she could use it. The arena had rapidly quietened to just her indignant struggles. Even Teroiah's attempt to reach for a hidden knife in her boot was trivial for Meesei to prevent with her strength.

"That will be quite enough," Siloune announced over the arena. Just as before, the spells upon both duellists were sucked away, seemingly into the ground below. "Teroiah cannot fight in that position. Champion of Hircine, I declare you the victor. If you would please, place my subordinate on her feet."

Teroiah all but slumped, scowling downwards and catching her breath through her nose. Her face bloomed with a vibrantly ashamed redness.

The Altmer battlemages were all silent.

Then there was clapping. Those present turned their heads to Marod, who was grinning and applauding at the outcome. "A good show, indeed. Well fought, [i]well fought.[/i]"

He was oblivious, or perhaps enjoyably aware, of the quiet consternation from the Dominion staff around him.