Wearing Power Armor to a Magic School (93/?) WiP 1

Hey everyone! Here is the Work in Progress for Chapter 93 I hope you guys enjoy! :D

The Transgracian Academy for the Magical Arts. The Hall of Champions. Competitor’s Field. Local Time: 1145

Auris

The world stood still.

And all eyes were on me.

In front of me, a commoner — nay, a newrealmer —  daring to impart a display only reserved for equals of pedigree and station. 

Sheer shock kept me from moving a muscle, whilst outrage and revulsion filled my very being.

I had, for a moment, forgotten the context of this gesture. 

So egregious was it that it acted as the personification of the entire day’s offenses, a symbol of defiance against what should be, a representation of rebellious contempt against what should have happened.

The supposed intent of the gesture was not lost on me. 

However, what others may see as a hand extended in reconciliation, was instead a poisoned dagger, one pointed directly at my soft underbelly; where both choice and indecision spelled the same conclusion… death.

Surely others could see this too.

Surely the professor, the symbol of Nexian benevolence and an extension of His Majesty’s will, would swiftly resolve this quagmire by simply removing the offending weapon thus disarming this malicious assault!

Surely she would…

Surely she had to… 

But that didn’t happen.

Nor did help in any other fashion arrive.

Instead, I was left on my lonesome, abandoned by a representative of righteousness, to succumb to the wounds inflicted upon me by the avatar of darkness itself.

Its red eyes mocked me, even as we stood as near physical equals.

Its hand, that deceitful gesture, sent both chills and pangs of disgust straight through to my very core.

Why couldn’t anyone else see its malicious intent?

Could they not see this savage cornering a fellow civilized peer?

Why could no one else see that this gesture was simply an extension of its deceitful ways? For just as its masterfully crafted suit was designed to hide savagery beneath it, so too was this gesture extended with the intent to hide this most heinous of assaults beneath a thin visage civility; this mockery of chivalry.

I was cornered, with a dagger held to my throat amidst an audience of weak-willed onlookers. 

May His Eternal Majesty forgive and protect me for what I am about to do.

PA-RUM PA-RUM PA-RRRUM PUM PUM

That music, the much-anticipated sounds marking the prelude to the end of classes, filled the air with relief beyond all measure. 

The musical troupe arrived on scene to the knowing wink of my most reliable ally amidst this sea of weak-willed ingrates. 

The ever-dependable Lady Ladona had managed to even fool me in this instance, as her constructs marched ever forwards to the tune of the class’ premature end.

I was saved.

SCREEEAAAACCHHHHH

Or so I thought.

A massive disturbance in the manafields marked the arrival of the house-sized wyvern, which landed with a deafening THUD, skulking its way towards the constructs with insidious intent.

The music suddenly screeched to a halt as a result, as the entire troupe was crushed wholesale to the tune of a hundred bone-shattering crunches, barring the conductor who was flung up with a forepaw, before ‘landing’ within the beast’s teeth with a silent SLICE… splitting in two before dissipating into mana. 

“SHE KILLED THE BAND!” Someone shouted from the crowds, prompting the professor to quickly intervene, but not before the Vunerian could chime in first.

“They weren’t the real band, you idiot.” He announced confidently. “It was a paltry parlor trick.”

“Aptly deduced, Lord Rularia.” The professor spoke, taking a moment to scratch wyvern’s chin. “Let me be clear, class. Whilst I do consider myself to be a tolerant professor, I do not take kindly to these brazen oversteps of authority.” She took a moment to glare intently at Ladona, her wyvern doing much the same. “So please, act like the adults I believe you to be… or don’t, and be treated as the children whose behaviors you mime and mimic.” 

Ladona took the best route she could at this point, hiding amongst the crowd, and blending into the audience.

The professor graciously didn’t pursue further disciplinary actions on that route.

What she did resume however, was the very situation the Anurarealmer had attempted to save me from, as the newrealmer stubbornly refused to retract that hand all throughout this brief disruption.

Time once more stood at a standstill, as I reached out a hand, before stopping halfway.

It was time to enact a plan, to propose an offer that the newrealmer could not refuse. 

“I refuse to acknowledge that this competition is over. Far from it, I wish to defer the results of this competition, pending a second, final challenge.” I began, eliciting a hundred gasps from the crowd. “I wish to call upon my points of gentlemanly deferral, to raise the newrealmer the offer of a higher stakes wager which I will honor, provided the newrealmer bests me in this upcoming House Choosing Ceremony.” A smile once more crept across my face as I could feel the newrealmer’s mind racing with a primitive drive to reach for that golden goose, for the coveted desire of earning more by teasing another fight. “Do you accept, Emma Booker of Earthrealm?”

My gambit was set, and even Lady Ladona appeared to be looking on with a rejuvenated hope.

All eyes shifted to the newrealmer’s response, as a ray of hope finally entered the fray in the form of this assured escalation.

“No thank you, but I appreciate the offer!” Came the newrealmer’s words, as she responded in that insultingly upbeat, almost dismissive cadence. 

I felt as if a phantom hand had just smacked me right across the face.

My limbs ran cold, and my cheeks burned with the intensity of a thousand suns.

Frustration, hatred, and a seething rage filled me, as I eyed that hand with the accumulated ire of an entire week’s worth of pent up fury threatening to boil over.

And so, with my escape routes blocked off, I would have to fight my way out.

My hand reached down, poised to slap the newrealmer’s hand away.

I felt the alien fabric of her digits, then, suddenly—

“Ah!”

—pain.