The indomitable Master Eldritch strode forth with ire, leading the cohort down the corridor with purpose, away from the examination chamber. The pace of the procession was rapid, rendering it impossible for Finnick to keep pace. His injured limb throbbed with pain, and the scent of burning tires emanating from him was overpowering. He hobbled in their wake, ruminating if there was ever a failure of similar magnitude in the annals of Memora. He dared to dream that they may grant him a premature discharge, both for his own well-being and that of his peers.
"Are you faring well?" Lance queried, slowing his stride to fall in step with Finnick. His countenance was affable and benevolent, as if their fellow group members' avoidance of Finnick was a trifle.
"I'm perfectly fine," Finnick replied through gritted teeth.
"I am at a loss to explain your feat," Lance marvelled. "The expression on Master Eldritch's visage was akin to..." He attempted to imitate the visage, furrowing his brow, dilating his eyes, and agape his mouth.
Fin commenced to emit a hearty chuckle, but promptly suppressed it. He didn't desire to exhibit any form of fondness towards his classmates, particularly the highly skilled Lance.
As they rounded the bend, they encountered the rest of their cohort who were waiting with bated breath. Master Eldritch cleared his throat, seemingly ready to reprimand Fin, yet he seemed to take notice of Lance standing beside him. The mage abruptly stopped his impending censure, and instead, opened the door to a new chamber.
Fin hastened into the room along with the other students. It was a mundane industrial setting, similar to the one in which they had undergone their first examination. It was equipped with rows of desks, each with a solitary sheet of paper resting atop.
Finnick pondered asking how many written assessments there would be, however, he deemed that Master Eldritch was not in a receptive state to answer. None of the desks were labeled with names, so he took a seat and crossed his arms over his chest.
"Master Eldritch!" Samantha cried out as she seated herself. "I don't have a pen," she added.
"You won't require one," Master Eldritch replied. "This evaluation will gauge your ability to command your magic. You will employ the element of air. Focus your energy on the sheet of paper in front of you until you are able to levitate it off the desk through the power of your thoughts. Ensure it rises in a straight line without wavering or dropping. Upon its successful levitation, kindly stand and convene with me at the front of the room."
Fin experienced a sense of relief. All he had to do was make certain that the paper did not soar into the air, which appeared relatively uncomplicated. Throughout his life, he had managed to keep paper from floating around in classrooms.
Lance occupied a seat across the aisle, his visage exhibiting a contemplative demeanor as he rested his chin on his hand and gazed with narrowed, verdant eyes. As Fin furtively shot a sidelong glance in his direction, the paper on Lance's desk levitated, achieving a state of perfect equilibration before resuming its resting place. Rising with a grin, Lance approached Master Eldritch at the front of the lecture hall.
A muted chortle emanated from Fin's left, prompting him to swivel his gaze and behold Frost extracting what appeared to be a mundane sewing needle. Pricking his finger, Frost allowed a droplet of blood to form before placing his digit into his oral cavity and sucking. Fin deemed him a weird individual. Yet, to his surprise, Frost then reclined in his chair, exhibiting a nonchalant demeanor that hinted at his proficiency in magic, as evidenced by the paper on his desk transforming through origami into a paper airplane that flew across the room and struck Fin on the forehead. Fin swatted it away, and it plummeted to the floor.
Master Eldritch intervened, "Frost, that's enough," though he spoke in a tone that lacked the annoyance it could have contained. "Join us at the front."
Fin redirected his focus to the paper before him as Frost strode towards the forefront of the lecture hall. All around him, students were fixated and murmuring among themselves, fervently hoping their documents would stir. A knot of anxiety formed in Fin's gut as he wondered what would happen if a sudden gust of wind dislodged his paper. Would it be deemed worthy of recognition if it moved on its own accord?
He vehemently instructed the stationary paper to remain steadfast. He envisioned himself exerting a firm hold over it, his fingers splayed, ensuring it wouldn't flinch. Despite the absurdity of the situation, Fin remained entrenched, his attention fully absorbed. He was not alone in his struggle, as several other pupils were unable to manipulate their papers, Samantha included.
"Finnick?" Master Eldritch addressed him with a weary tone.
Fin resigned himself. "I can't do it."
"If he can't, he can't," Frost chimed in. "Just award him a zero and let's be on our way before he causes a blizzard and we all succumb to paper cuts."
"Very well," the mage concurred. "Bring your papers forward, I'll grade you accordingly. Let's clean up this room for the next cohort."
Fin breathed a sigh of relief and reached for his paper - only to find himself paralyzed. Despite his frantic efforts, clawing at the edges with his nails, the paper had somehow become embedded in the wooden surface of the desk, rendering it inaccessible. "Master Eldritch, there's something amiss with my paper," he exclaimed in distress.
"Under the desks, pronto!" Frost bellowed, but the class was oblivious, their gazes fixed upon Fin. Master Eldritch approached him, his eyes narrowing as he scrutinized the sheet of paper fused to the desk.
"Who could have possibly wrought such an absurdity?" Master Eldritch queried, disbelief evident in his voice. "Is this someone's notion of humor?"
Not a single soul in the room dared to speak.
"Did you perpetrate this, Fin?" the master mage interrogated.
Fin was at a loss, he was merely trying to prevent the paper from shifting, but he dare not voice this. "I couldn't say, Master," he stammered. "Perhaps the paper was flawed."
"It's only paper!" Master Eldritch exclaimed in exasperation before reining in his emotions. "Very well, you shall receive a zero. No, wait, you will make history as the first aspirant to attain a negative score in the Arcanum Trials. A minus ten, it is." He shook his head, a mixture of disappointment and relief in his tone. "We can all be thankful that the final test is an individual endeavor."
At that moment, Fin was most grateful for the impending end of the trials.