The Thorn Protects the Rose

Chapter 7

MANIFESTATION

The class entered the room, and a few groans echoed off the stone walls, which held the damp chill of an underground vault despite the morning sun coming in through the high windows. The students dispersed to their stations—sturdy, mahogany desks that formed a ring around the central Tree of Life painting like the perimeter of a ritual circle. The painting itself was stunning. Its branches displayed the changing seasons, from vibrant green leaves to fiery autumn hues, then winter's bare limbs with a silver crescent moon nestled among them, and finally, spring's budding blossoms. This appeared only on test days. It was there to keep track of the magical flow within the room, easily pointing out anyone that may be cheating. Just as the last student passed the threshold, the large crow statue near the door suddenly came to life, cawed loudly twice, and turned back to stone.

Denmark nearly left his skin. "f*****g thing gets me every time," he hissed, looking like he'd had a heart attack.

​Laura gave a shaky giggle, adjusted her bag, and nudged him toward his desk. "It's just a bird, Den. Deep breaths."

​"It's a herald of doom, is what it is," he muttered, rubbing his face vigorously as if trying to wake up. He trudged to his mahogany station, looking like a man heading toward a firing squad.

As the students gathered around the Tree of Life, its painted leaves began to rustle, even though there was no wind. A soft glow emanated from the silver crescent moon nestled in its branches. The professor's loud, clear voice filled the room.

"Hello and good morning, everyone! I trust you all had a restful sleep?" He didn't wait for anyone to answer, as he clapped and rang his hands. “Let's get the ball rolling. You all know the drill: it's all about concentration, precision, practice, and multitasking. You will need to perform and hold two magical spells at the same time."

The professor gestured to the surrounding desks. "Everyone at your stations?” He looked around. “You have until the bell for this first practice run. Go!"

A collective sigh rippled through the room, a mix of apprehension and determination. Students began to move, some stretched, others closed their eyes for a moment of concentration. Denmark, still grumbling under his breath, was at a desk near the back, Laura not far from him. Lyra had found a spot closer to the front, her expression already focused. [Elara, after a quick glance at the professor, picked a desk directly in his line of sight.]

A hush fell over the room as the students began. A faint hum of magical energy filled the air as various students closed their eyes, concentrating. Almost immediately, a few signs of struggle became apparent. Across the room, a guy named Finn's arm flickered, briefly morphing into what looked like a feather before snapping back to normal, his face contorting in frustration. Near Denmark, a woman named Maya gritted her teeth, her lizard form wavering around the edges like a heat haze, while the small stone she was trying to summon simply refused to materialize on her desk. The professor slowly paced the perimeter of the room, his eyes keenly observing every student, occasionally offering a subtle nod or a knowing, silent sigh."

After a few more moments of observation, Professor Eldridge finally stopped, his gaze sweeping across the struggling students. He shook his head, looking slightly disappointed. "This is why we practice at home, people. Mastering a shifted form is a difficult task on its own, summoning may look simple, but with added obstacles to overcome it, too can become an impossible task!" He emphasized every other word. "We’ve gone over this before, now wake up, and get those gears turning!”

The air in the room grew thick with the tangible strain of focused magic.

Elara was among the first to move. With an intake of breath and a physical strain to stay upright instead of slouching, she blew a loose stray of hair from her face and tried to focus, her form shimmered, the subtle shift into her chosen wolf-human form nearly seamless, although she had lost the motivation to make a show of it. She just wanted this week of hell and this damned test to be over so she could talk to her uncle. She had foregone the make up this time, but kept the suit mostly straight as she parted her legs slightly to stand firm. She held up her arm with focus and intent, and started to make circles with her hand. Then, a vibrant swirl of emerald green light erupted from her outstretched palm, twisting and deepening into a miniature, swirling portal no larger than a teacup saucer. From its depths, she effortlessly drew forth a pristine, unblemished onyx cat figurine, placing it gently on her desk.

Near the back, Denmark grimaced, his features blurring for a moment as he wrestled with his attempt to hold his cocker spaniel form. His effort to summon a simple inkpot resulted in a faint, sputtering spark of dull grey energy that vanished before anything could materialize, leaving him clenching his jaw in frustration. Laura, by contrast, focused with a soft hum. Her shift was a clear, shimmering ripple, settling into a delicate rabbit form with subtle, almost artistic makeup on her face, and a clean, perfectly formed fountain pen materialized on her desk from a quick, almost invisible flash of bright silver light.

Lyra's transformation into her peacock form was precise and fluid, an effortless shift. Her summoning began with a delicate, chime-like whisper that seemed to resonate from thin air, shimmering with subtle purple hues, and a small, antique-looking desk lamp flickered into existence, its brass base catching the overhead light.

Finn, still fighting his chicken form, found his hand intermittently reverting to something feathered before snapping back. When he tried to summon a notepad, a burst of red-tinged smoke erupted from his palm, smelling faintly of burnt sugar, but no object appeared. Maya, her brow furrowed in intense concentration, managed to stabilize her iguana form, but her summoning produced only a faint, persistent blue glow that hovered over her desk, refusing to coalesce into the simple stone she desired.

Professor Eldridge continued his silent observation, his gaze sharp, taking in every success and every struggle. The soft glow from the painted Tree of Life seemed to pulse in time with the ebb and flow of the students' magical efforts.

Many students visibly relaxed, their forms solidifying, and small objects, from pencils to stones, now sat firmly on their desks. The practice time had clearly been put to good use.

Just as the last few struggles seemed to resolve into success, the large crow statue near the door suddenly let out a single, sharp caw. Professor Eldridge clapped his hands once, the sound echoing crisply in the stone room, and every student instantly froze, their eyes snapping to him.

"Alright!" he announced, his voice carrying clearly. "I hope you all are confident in yourselves to proceed. It's time for the exam. I'll come to you each individually to watch you demonstrate what you've achieved. Come!"

He gave a sharp, clear whistle and glanced to his own large, sturdy desk along the far wall. Instantly, a heavy leather-bound notepad and a long, elegant quill lifted smoothly from its surface. They turned towards each other mid-air, and then, with the unexpected vigor and of a loyal Labrador, both objects flew directly over to the professor, the quill wiggling as if wagging its tail in anticipation.

The atmosphere in the room shifted instantly, thickening with palpable tension. Each student sat quietly, some rigidly still, others with barely suppressed fidgets, all patiently waiting their turn. Firm and focused looks singled out Professor Eldridge as he began to move, the notepad and quill hovering faithfully by his side, and he approached Lyra's desk first.

Across the room, Finn gave an audible sigh, letting out a breath he didn't realize he was holding. He was sweating.

As Professor Eldridge reached Lyra's desk, the quill positioned itself neatly against the notepad, poised to record. Lyra, meeting his gaze with a confident smile, did a little slow spin. Purple magic subtly blossomed around her as she shifted seamlessly into her resplendent peacock form. With a graceful wave of her hand over the desk, a faint, subtle purple shimmer expanded, and the antique desk lamp materialized perfectly in front of her.

The professor smiled and nodded to his quill, who seemed almost to perk up, diligently jotting down every detail. After several seconds, it lifted from the page, the tip seeming to "look" from Lyra to Eldridge, as if acknowledging her success. "Thank you, Lyra," Professor Eldridge said, his voice a quiet affirmation. He then turned and, notepad and quill still floating beside him, made his way around the room, speaking softly to each student in turn as they began their own attempts.

He had just finished with Finn, who seemed as relaxed as a tightly wound up rubber band. It had not gone well. Finn sat scorched and smoking, a faint scent of singed feathers hanging in the air, his chicken form having exploded in the professor's face with feathers still clinging to his robes. He had, however, managed to summon a miniature bonsai tree that now sat perfectly formed and serene on his desk, utterly incongruous with the chaos around him. Professor Eldridge gave an unamused look, blowing a stubborn feather away from his mouth. The quill by his side dutifully wrote something down and then did a couple of quick, firm strokes on the pad.

Then, the quill lifted and turned, its tip pointing directly at Elara.

She was unnaturally nervous, something about the spectacle that had just occurred with Finn making her profoundly uneasy. The professor, despite the smoking feathers, seemed to become a daunting figure as he approached her, and she felt the familiar pounding in her chest again, her mouth becoming dry. Still, she looked at him as he reached her desk and managed the best confident smile she could muster, though it didn't quite reach her eyes.

Eldridge's sharp features faltered slightly. He leaned in, mouthing, "Are you okay?"

She nodded shakily, her gaze darting to the quill, which was now looking back and forth from her to the notepad, as if becoming impatiently judgmental. The sheer ridiculousness of a writing utensil silently judging her flared in her thoughts, and for a brief moment, irritation cut through her fear. She shook it off, a faint tremor running through her, and readied herself.

Her shift was almost perfect, a seamless green shimmer that settled her into her werewolf form. But once she focused on her summons, her mind inexplicably waned. She thought of the dream she had awoken from this morning, the raw, visceral feeling of terror, and the infuriating lack of knowledge surrounding it, and a wave of pure anger surged through her. She lowered her brows in a tight crease, scrunching her face, but desperately trying to focus.

The small green portal began to tint with a spreading black swirl, growing, and the tension she felt in her outstretched hand was like trying to lift a cinder block. But she pushed, she tried. The portal kept growing and growing, expanding rapidly until it was about the size of a small doorway, swirling with a dark and angry green and black mist. Nothing was summoned. Just the gaping, ominous portal.