Page 52 of Two Who Live On

“Great. I can’t even use my lackluster roots.”

“Yikes. Just my branch?”“Welp, I’m fucked.”

“There has to be something in my grimoire…”

“My branch was made for this.”

“You ready, King Clucks?”

“I got this, maybe, probably, hopefully.”

“I feel sorry for some of these witches.”

“I’m going to crush all these so-called wonderful branches.”

“No estoy seguro de que mis picos ayudarán mucho aquí.”

“She looks terrified.”

“I’ll be fine without a support tool.I’ll be fine.”

Chanelle swelled with exhilaration in front of the audience, reliving and relishing the adoration while the students absorbed the rules of the competition.

“While a true guild witch thrives on collaboration, this is an independent challenge,” Chanelle explained. “Any witches caught casting root magics or collaborating will find themselves disqualified from finishing the obstacle course.”

This was the exact reason Chanelle had pissed me off. I struggled to drown their thoughts as they absorbed the rules in place along with their dread. Caleb tensed, all his immediate plans of grouping with Katherine fading away. Most of the students, mine and everyone else’s, faltered hesitantly. Every tiny plan they’d formed during the opening ceremony crumbled in desperation and fear for their own talents compared to those around them. The academy model rewarded them for collaboration, and now they’d automatically fail for assisting or being assisted. Two minds spiked above the others, utterly thrilled by the independence factor. It forced them to alter theirinitial strategy in seconds, yet Kenzo Ito and Jamie Novak glared at their squirming classmates unfortunate enough to compete alongside them.

“Sometimes, a guild witch’s most important job is carrying themselves independently in a harsh industry.” Chanelle spoke lightheartedly, yet something piercing stabbed at her.

I bit my lip to keep from softening my rage toward her. Something about her guild history bubbled high the instant those words left her lips. She eyed me, burying the thoughts. Paranoia on my part. Her mind went blank. I shook it off. Chanelle could’ve been glancing at any of the hundred people in my direction. Eyeing any eligible enchanters, I figured she’d likely looked this way to captivate them as opposed to concerning herself with my innate eavesdropping. She’d never concerned herself before… Why bother now?

“I wish you all luck to be one of the first eighty to cross the finish line!” Her enthusiasm matched the roar she unleashed along with the buzzer.

Students scrambled at the starting line, uncertain how much of their branch to rely on now and how much to hold back for the last push. This would be a slaughter for those who lacked branches that offered speed, dexterity, strength, or amplified magical advantages beyond physical comparison.

I’d never ranked in these showcase events, never bothered for exactly these types of reasons. Showcasing branches didn’t necessarily mean heavy hitter magics, yet academies and guilds never gathered that sense. Physically, some of the kids would keep up. Christ, Milo and Finn catered to a similar event our second year and showed everyone why they were more than their psychic branch.

“See you all at the finish line,” Jamie shouted, pulling me from my memories.

“Guess you won’t have that high ranking much longer.” Jamie sneered at Kenzo, creating a whirlpool behind himself that’d take him a quarter of the way across the obstacle course.

I huffed. One of Mrs. Whitehurst’s students. Of course this test was built for his magic. He’d cross the finish line before any of my students made it to the first course.

“I don’t know who the fuck you are, but you should talk less,” Kenzo snapped. “Your voice is grating, and your magic is slow.”

An intentional jab meant to infuriate Jamie—and it worked. For someone who thrived on his own rage, Kenzo knew exactly how to provoke it in others, which sent a thrill thumping through his chest, knowing he could incite anyone and throw them off their game. Maybe that was where some of his hatred for Caleb stemmed. He provoked and provoked, and yet Caleb, his former friend, never struck back.

Gray static popped, zapping the swirling water and then Jamie’s wrists, where he channeled his branch magic. Kenzo played Jamie for a fool. I didn’t even need to scan his thoughts to know he’d studied Jamie and every other student who ranked in the top 160. Hell, a competitive kid like Kenzo probably had all 600 first-year students memorized. The fact he’d struck the specific location Jamie channeled his branch from was proof enough.

“I’d say see you at the finish line, but none of you rejectsdeserve to make it off the starting line.” Kenzo unleashed a rapid flurry of gray static.

It pulsed and erupted chaotically across the field, stalking students and nullifying their magic. This wasn’t a furious attempt to hit everyone. No. He’d used it as a way to magnify his branch. It was nowhere near a primal lightning strike, but the rapid release propelled him further across the field, sending him past the first obstacle before a single student stepped off the starting line.

By the time everyone else gathered if their branches were or weren’t affected, Kenzo had bolted through the second obstacle, climbing up the rock wall without a moment of hesitation.

“You missed the real star of the showcase, you jerk!” Yaritza screamed, casting a barrage of comets to fly above the terrains. “Woo!”

Her body trembled, lacking the comfortable coordination of her levitation when flinging herself with the added assistance of her star shower. Those flaming pebbles ricocheted below, scaring other competitors, burning the obstacle course, and making it more challenging for everyone left behind.

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