What Happened To You?
What?
Ginger turned to Reiss with a gaping mouth. The dwarfish dragonling also turned to him, donning a flabbergasted expression that told volumes of disbelief.
Him sharing this moment of surprise with Ginger would have been a lot more meaningful… if hundreds of eyes hadn't turned in his direction, looking down at his small figure with measures of interest, anticipation, ridicule, and indifference.
Being on the receiving end of this for a change was pretty overwhelming. Reiss didn't have the luxury of confiding in Ginger since Professor Lyall's beckoning look was calling him over with furious urgency.
Reiss gulped and took steps forward, his Qin Steel hammer, which was on his shoulder, seeming to weigh much less now than the spectators' collective attention on him. He gathered his wits as best as he could and steadied his posture.
Ginger watched him go with more than a little trepidation.
The source of his misgivings joined Reiss halfway towards the Professor.
Vassilis.
To think that Reiss had been paired with him!
Ginger scowled.
Just the sight of the shiny, well-combed caramel hair that draped over Vassilis' forehead, the prominent hazel eyes, and his confident, firm stature irked the plump dragonling.
Vassilis was something of a sworn enemy for him and Reiss. Ever since he had exposed Ginger as a halfling and that he had come from the Wild, any potential for them to see eye to eye had been slaughtered. Reiss had stood by Ginger back then, albeit being a little shocked about Ginger's identity as well.
In Ginger's view, the fine, handsome boy was a prick. He was sure Reiss felt the same way too. Vassilis already made it clear that he wouldn't entertain a half-dragon, and of course, a half-dragon supporter was likely to receive the same treatment.
How Reiss and the prick were going to work together… Ginger didn't know.
But there was a bigger, better question.
What exactly was determining these pairings?
Ginger tried to discern the criteria. He had absentmindedly considered that perhaps it had to do with gender – random boy and girl pairings – but that theory had been kicked out of the cavern with the announcing of this duo.
'Aren't they both Affixers?' Ginger thought with a spark of insight glowing in his eyes, but it dimmed a moment later.
He had begun to think that Professor Lyall was perhaps pairing those with the same Kardia type, but he would have to confirm Aias and Eleni's Kardia types to figure out if he was right. Discerning such a thing with the eye alone wasn't possible for him at the moment, so the only way to know was to ask around.
That didn't seem like a good idea.
Ginger wasn't really popular among the First Years. At least in the entirely positive sense.
Shelving these thoughts for now, he watched as Professor Lyall whispered in the same manner to Reiss and Vassilis as she had done with Aias and Eleni before sending them off.
Ginger didn't miss how, when told to go forth, Reiss glared at Vassilis before heaving his hammer off his shoulder and straining terribly to keep its haft in the tight, wobbly grip of both his hands. With the way the dwarfish dragonling's large forehead was throbbing with thick veins, Ginger feared Reiss might get an aneurysm.
Vassilis, on the other hand, was anything but strained. His Qin Steel bow seemed as light as a feather in his hand, as did the thin quiver hanging from his back with only the fletching of five arrows sticking from it.
He looked unbothered and unconcerned, though, he too did spare a look of contempt for Reiss.
"I know he's like a super prodigy, but why would he choose such a weapon? It still doesn't make sense to me. And why just five arrows? Is he that confident? Shouldn't the Professor stop him?"
Ginger heard a student behind him express some concern. He too would have shared some if he didn't hate Vassilis with a passion.
Apparently, bows weren't too popular among dragons, and even among those who liked them, Affix or Alien-type Kardia was required to use them properly.
Ginger remembered Reiss saying something about Weavil Elves being the ones most commonly known to be efficient with bows, whatever those truly were. Ginger had thought they were a special species of giant rats before Reiss gave a mild correction.
In any case, of all the First Years, as Ginger now saw, only three, apart from Vassilis, opted to use bows.
The dwarfish dragonling and the prodigy of Avecsalot descent disappeared into the arched gap.
Ginger held his breath. He wanted to believe that Reiss would be fine since Aias and Eleni were quite alright, but he was still doubtful. Maybe Reiss was safe, but what if he just… couldn't kill a Blighted on his own?
Even though what Ginger considered to be the short dragon's most prominent trait was his unshakeable will, he didn't know if it would help him weather through something like his own insufficiency.
Reiss sternly believed that he was equal to any other dragonling despite his size. If that was proven wrong, at least today…
"I figured Midget was the bigger worrywart between the two of you."
Ginger turned to see Caron having drawn closer to him.
"What?" he said, confused and surprised.
"I can see it in your eyes. You're doubting him, aren't you?" Caron said. It looked like the sags below her sockets were the ones staring at Ginger rather than her baby-blue eyes.
Ginger frowned and looked back to the gaping darkness.
"I'm just… worried. Like any FRIEND would be," he said.
Caron had no retort.
A few silent moments followed.
WUDUK!
What felt like an explosion from within the chamber, reverberating faintly beneath the students' feet, came.
Ginger's heart thrummed.
What was that?
Could it have been Reiss' hammer?
Maybe… probably not.
WUDUK!
Again, it came.
RAAARRRR!
A dull roar echoed in the far distance and died down. Then there was silence again.
Ginger now felt as though he had been deceiving himself. The suspense from before was nothing compared to what he felt now.
'I hope you're doing alright…' he thought, distressed.
Caron's accusation suddenly floated in.
'You're doubting him, aren't you?'
Could it be? No! Of course not!
He was just concerned.
He wouldn't underestimate his friend like that!
He wasn't like everyone else who saw Reiss like some silly, fragile vase…right?
The next five minutes might as well have been a day and a half, but at their end, everyone was shocked to hear the sound of footsteps drawing close, and Vassilis' image walking into the cavern.
"What? They are already coming out?"
"No way! Didn't it take those other two a lot more time?"
"Is this actually easier than we think?"
Excitement and curiosity erupted among the First Years.
Other than the briskness of this second ordeal, what shocked everyone was the fact that Vassilis didn't have a scratch on his Light Gear, not to mention his face or hands, There was hardly any blood on him either. The only thing he seemed to have lost after going into the chamber, were four of his arrows.
To the onlookers, this was certainly awe-inspiring, but…
"Where's Reiss?" Ginger asked in a panic.
He immediately looked to Professor Lyall who still had on an unreadable face. She gave a nod to Vassilis who reciprocated and walked towards Aias and Eleni.
Ginger balled his hands into fists.
"Where's—"
"There," Caron suddenly said.
Perhaps because he was starting to get delusions about Reiss being seriously hurt or worse, Ginger had missed the dark silhouette emerging from the arched gap.
The small dragon came into view, barely making a sound.
Ginger held his breath.
Reiss was… fine.
Apart from several bleeding scars on his cheek and horrific burn marks on his Light Gear that released a purplish fume, he seemed to be alright.
However, a strange look was on his face, one that looked like a mix of defeat and concern.
This disturbed Ginger, but what drew his attention more, along with that of the other First Years, was Reiss' hammer.
Only its haft remained. The head… was nowhere to be seen.
What in the world had happened in there?
The contrast between Vassilis and Reiss was unsettling.
Ginger didn't like it one bit.
Reiss pulled on the handle as he passed Professor Lyall who gave him an encouraging nod.
"What happened?" Ginger asked no one in particular. He wanted to imagine that the thickly Professor's gesture was a 'well done', but he couldn't tell with that damned indecipherable V!
"I don't know. I think he did alright," Caron answered him.
Reiss, unfortunately, couldn't give them any answers, even if he wanted to. He settled on his own on the other side of the cavern with the others. He didn't glance at Ginger once.
Only now, when the plump dragonling paid more attention to what was happening on this other side did he realize that Professor Aarons was acting as a foil to any who tried to communicate with those who had already accomplished the exercise.
More than that…
'Did she heal them?' he thought.
He hadn't had the time to think about it, but Aias and Eleni had had minor injuries, some visible, some not.
Now, they were gone!
Was it Professor Aarons' doing?
Ginger hoped she would hurry to Reiss, but she never did.
"Alright. Next up…" Professor Lyall called.
What followed was a monotonous series of students being called forth, going into the chamber, and returning mostly unharmed, with the worst injuries Ginger ever saw being deep scratches to the face and hands, some of which looked especially ghastly.
Professor Lyall and Professor Aarons never hurried to attend to them, however. The injured merely joined the others and sat down with their complex faces that carried hidden emotions.
It was odd.
At some point, Ginger ignored this peculiar detail and tried to focus on what was determining the pairings again.
It didn't make sense.
Gender? No.
Kardia type? No. He'd seen a Pooler and an Affixer from his class be paired and sent in, along with other combinations.
Was it random? Perhaps.
Sixteen pairings later, he gave up on this and tried to sneakily grab Reiss' attention, but the dwarfish dragonling wouldn't look his way at all.
Ginger's concern steadily turned into fury.
What was Reiss' deal? Why couldn't he at least smile or nod to set his heart at ease, dammit?!
Was that so hard?
It was immensely frustrating.
All of the plump dragonling's anger was drained away instantly, however, when he heard the call of his name. Finally.