Come on, MAHA damn it, come on! Elwin howled in the silence of his mind, performing the very first step in the dancephrase to absolutely zero success. The first woodblock in front of him – the size of a mug – rested as nonchalantly as ever, with no trace of smoke nor flame. It seemed to grow a pair of doodled arms and face to sip on a miniature cup of tea, as if to mock him.
Elwin bit his lip and tried again, sliding to the side from the stance that Professor Helen had shown, his left arm shooting forward in the direction of the woodblock, trying to shunt the energy within.
Still nothing.
“Not shabby. You are almost ready to learn the Dance of the Apprentice’s Flame,” came Professor Helen’s voice in the distance.
“Thank you, ma’am, but it’s too great a praise.”
“We shall see.”
Elwin looked some way off to his right, where Katherine was. She had already expended her seventh full set of woodblocks, and was on her way to get another. Professor Helen was walking away after an initial appraisal.
He looked to his left to see Mirai. She was on the second largest of the woodblocks of her second set, having conquered the entirety of the first group even though her Maht was Earth.
He looked behind him and saw Isaac, stuck on the third largest woodblock of his first set. He’d already found success with the first five steps of the dancephrase, and was going through the motions from the beginning to gather force.
It was evident that Elwin was the odd one out – the last one out amidst the one-hundred-and-sixty Fradihta.
He glanced to his right again to see Professor Helen now headed his way.
Oh no. Please. Please. Let me set this one alight, at least! She’s going to kill me! Come on Quan, come on!
“MAIOR FORTIOR!” He shouted, streaking the air with radiant rays. He tried the first step again, sliding his legs and then thrusting his arm towards the block, stretching it as far as he could – but only a whiff of smoke came from the mug-sized wood.
Before Elwin could react, Professor Helen was beside him.
“Mr. Elwin, why the difficulty?”
She looked at him dispassionately, arms folded. “Try again.”
Elwin gulped and steadied his shake. He tried once more, repeating it as precisely as he thought he could.
“More force. Your arm should be planar to your shoulders as you descend and stretch,” she explained, performing the exact move with flawless precision. “Your arms and shoulders are currently loose and bent at an angle. This spills energy before it has a chance to be thrust into the block. Try again.”
Elwin applied the corrections to the best of his ability. This time, more smoke wafted out of the top of the woodblock, and it became minutely singed. But it was far from Professor Helen’s satisfaction, and he saw it on her face written clear as day.
Elwin grimaced and bit his lip. He never considered himself talented with the physical and the kinesthetic. Perhaps it was because of his single eye – but he always found his body not moving the right way, his arm not throwing the ball as much force, not being able to replicate what he saw when many of his classmates could do at a single glance back at Ascension. It was one of the many reasons why he was considered a liability when it came to contests and races in gym. And now, he was failing in the same manner. It was a cruel irony that fire required the most physical movements out of all the Arts, and on top it, was the polar opposite to his Maht.
A glimmer of hope still persisted in Elwin as he remembered being able to light candles with his finger back at The Marlin, a skill taught by his mother. But that was all the experience he’d had with fire until now, and his inexperience was beginning to unravel for the world to witness.
“Perhaps you are not attuned to these blocks,” stated Professor Helen. “Ms. Katherine,” she commanded, looking to her right, “behind the pile of woodblocks should be a set of metal cubes with fire-oil. Fetch those at once.”
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“Yes, ma’am!” she said, racing to the end of the theatron.
“I shall see how you fare with a smaller set, this time with oil. It should be easier for you to ignite with your movements. Your Maht is Mashur, correct?”
“Mashur – yes, ma’am,” Elwin stammered, remembering that both water and Mashur were used interchangeably at Aeternitas.
Professor Helen’s expression was still as ever in the minute it took for Katherine to retrieve the metal blocks – rather, cubes.
“What are these for, professor?” she asked.
“For Mr. Elwin. Go now, do not disturb us,” she said, instantly arranging them into a circle around Elwin with air. She was versed in Ayumastra as well.
Katherine cocked her head, puzzled as to why anyone would need a set of cubes this small, for such a simple a dance as the Dance of the Sparks. Then she realized why, and drooped her head in commiseration with Elwin; she walked away, intending not to give Lucian and the others in the distance any bait.
“Begin the Dance.”
Elwin did for the twenty-fifth time, sliding to the side from his lowered stance, his left arm shooting forward at a sharp angle; to his utmost relief and delight, the sugar cube-sized metal doused in oil became enveloped in flame.
“Good. The second step.”
What was the second step again? Elwin froze.
Professor Helen stood there still, arms crossed.
He quickly spied Mirai on his left going through the second step by serendipitous chance, and strode forward just as she did, tugging on invisible strings as to gather the energy behind him, and swept the air with his right elbow.
The second cube set alight.
“Good. Onto the third.”
Elwin’s Quan returned to his consciousness the familiarity with the third motion from nearly an hour ago, and taking a short step with his leg, Elwin pounded the surrounding air with a punch. The third cube drenched in oil spluttered with bubbles of heat – but became silent again, the fires not wreathing this time.
Professor Helen crinkled her brow.
From away, Lucian and his mates caught eye of Elwin. Lucian nudged Rayo with a grain of gravel in Rayo’s direction; he nudged Cassius, and Cassius alerted Claudia. The unitary direction of their gazes soon caught eye of the rest of the Fradihta, and they watched as Elwin failed over and over to set alight anything beyond the third cube.
Lucian shook his head in a quick frown before jumping and kicking in the eighth step of the dancephrase, cleaving the mightiest of the woodblock in front of him with cold disinterest. He had finished his fifth set.
“That is disappointing, but there’s certainly room for improvement,” commented Professor Helen, rather dryly. Elwin clenched his fists in utter shame.
“I expect you to practice harder in private. If you cannot survive this simple of an introduction to the Dance of the Sparks come your mid-year assessment, then I will be forced into a discussion with your Tanaar and the headmaster as to your potential in the Academy.”
Isaac and Mirai looked in horror.
Katherine put her hand on his shoulder in sympathy, but Elwin shook it off.
In the far off distance, he heard a whisper from the crowd.
“...What’re we doing with a fraud like him?”
Slowly, the trusses of his sanity began to bend with their weight.
* * *
“Hey, don’t get so down about it. Fire is the opposite to water. Your Maht is Water, so it’s obvious you’d start off kind of bad at fire,” Isaac steadfastly consoled Elwin in his trying time.
Elwin replied in exasperation. “I don’t get this at all! I have my Quan now! I’m supposed to be able to perform feats as if two people put their hands together! So why in the name of the MAHA am I having trouble with something so simple as the first steps of a dance?”
“Really, it all comes down to practice. At least that’s how I think it works,” replied Isaac.
“But you set alight at least five blocks on the first try, and managed to get the third largest one too before class finished! And your Maht isn’t even Fire!” Elwin snapped back, feeling cornered by the events of that day.
“I did a lot of fire-work at the hospital. Cauterizing wounds, and stuff.”
“‘Cauterizing’?”
“It’s when a person is bleeding so much, so you have to seal the wound shut by burning it. It’s gruesome, but saves people’s lives.”
In truth, Isaac only watched proper doctors perform the life-saving cauterizing surgery, and never did it himself, because he was too young to be tasked with it. But his tales were the best way to comfort Elwin, and a little twist of truth didn’t matter as long as it comforted his friend.
“Huh, okay. Alright. Thanks.”
That night, whispers of the first-year tournament – the Franen tournament – made the rounds of the Dining Hall and the terraces of the House of Aeternitas.
The rules and goals were simple: students were to compete in teams of four, which could be anyone of their own choosing as long as they collectively agreed. Teams would spar against other teams in various challenges and trials of increasing difficulty. It would take place after the Festival of SERA next spring, which meant the middle of Serayasna, and that gave Elwin about four months – or half a year in their Republic calendar – to prepare for it.
The tiered challenges would take place throughout various places on the vast campus, and a final showdown would take place between the crème de la crème in a vast arena, the location which was yet undisclosed. A few who could not quench their curiosity asked the upperclassmen around, but all of them, including Sandora’s crew, were deliberately mysterious in their answers as per tradition.
“This time, the relic is going to be a hat!” whispered a Fradihta.
“Nonsense. I heard that it’s under the lake,” murmured another.
“I heard one of the challenges is to eat spicy spirit peppers, and the team that has to drink water first loses.”
The first step along the way was to find and assemble a team of four. That was going to be easy, Elwin thought.
He had his kismets.