Pride and Woe

The arch-maegi had put Riniock on display, exposed him to the hall's merciless gaze. The weight of a thousand rapacious eyes bore into him, hungry with envy, curiosity, and doubt. A chill ran through his spine – a bitter realisation settling in. He wouldn't recover from this humiliation easily; it was a wound that would fester long after this day.

 This was the price of his vanity, his reckless flaunting of skill, and his misplaced trust in the professors. He clenched his jaw, vowing that he would never again succumb to such basic human emotions. But that resolve did nought to shield him now.

 'A good vessel,' the arch-maegi remarked, his hand hovering just a breadth away from Riniock's chest. A warm glow emanated from his palm, illuminating the space between them. The energy traced invisible lines across Riniock's body, probing, inspecting, exposing every conduit and flaw – as though being naked before a crowd. 'All preliminary conduits appear to have burst open as well.'

 A murmur of astonishment swelled in the crowd, mingling with disbelief.

 'I taught him my harnessing technique,' Gieller interjected, his voice oozing pride, a sly smile tugging at his lips. 'He used it to deplete a fading node I presented to the class.'

 'Marvellous.' The arch-maegi's eyes glimmered with something dangerous – expectation, perhaps, or a cold calculation. 'This means we'll soon have another maegi with prospects in the three tempest elements.'

 The words hung in the air like a prophecy, one that came with a burden heavier than any accolade. Riniock's heart pounded. He knew this wasn't just recognition; it was a spotlight that could burn as easily as it could illuminate.

 But amidst the humiliation, there was a glimmer of revelation. Their nonchalant discussion, held at his expense, had revealed something invaluable: Gieller's harnessing technique wasn't just effective – it was tailored for learning, mastering, and wielding the tempest elements.

 The tempest elements…Riniock's eyes narrowed in thought. That should be my next objective.

 As the arch-maegi and Gieller continued to discuss him, dissecting his progress openly for all to hear, a bitter question gnawed at him: Why? He hadn't wronged them. He hadn't insulted, offended, or challenged their authority. Was this spectacle their way of teaching a lesson? A warning that pride had no place in a maegi's path?

 If so, the message was clear – and it cut deep.

 'Excuse me…professors,' Riniock said, his voice measured despite the weight of his shame. 'May I return to my seat?'

 Gieller scoffed lightly. 'Arch-maegi, you've made him suffer enough.'

 'Fair enough.' The arch-maegi's voice was devoid of warmth. 'Return to your classmates.'

 The invisible grip released him, and Riniock trudged back to his seat. Each step felt like a brand, searing his pride away. The eyes of the student body pierced him – some with amusement, others with scorn. Even the professors' restrained laughter stung.

 From the shadows, Jorian's gaze burned with renewed interest. Riniock could almost feel the questions waiting to be unleashed, the scrutiny he'd now endure.

 'Secrecy is key in a maegi's life,' the arch-maegi announced loudly. 'The less others know, the greater your advantage. Never reveal your trump cards, and never trust anyone.'

 He clenched his fists. So that's the lesson.

 Gieller's betrayal wasn't born of malice. It was a hard lesson cloaked in humiliation. Riniock's progress had been too quick, too obvious. He had played his hand for all to see. And whilst Gieller had smiled and guided him, in the end, the professor had done what he must: taught him the most painful truth of all.

 A truth wrapped in good faith, yet delivered like a dagger.

 Riniock bore no hatred towards Gieller, but the trust he once placed in the professor was gone. Betrayal, even when served with good intentions, left a scar that would not heal easily.

 Yet there was no time to dwell on the sting of vanity. The arch-maegi's voice broke through his thoughts.

 'But let us not wallow in woes of pride or humiliation. My summoning you here is not for this purpose alone.' His gaze swept across the hall. 'In a few days, we will be hosting very important guests from the Ikshar Academy of the North. I trust that all of you will be on your best behaviour and continue your studies diligently, even if they choose to observe lessons.'

 Excited murmurs erupted from the gathered students. The anticipation was electric. Guests from other magickal academies were a rarity, an event that infused the college with a sense of importance and vitality. For many, it was a chance to shine, to prove themselves worthy of attention from beyond their familiar walls.

 The earlier humiliation seemed forgotten, swept away in the tide of excitement. Conversations bubbled up, smiles returned, and the weight of the moment lifted like a dissipating storm cloud.

 The arch-maegi's stern face softened slightly. 'But I digress. Today, we feast – an honour to welcome the new acolytes who now grace our college grounds. Eat and drink to your hearts' content.'

 A cheer rose from the crowd, followed by the clatter of utensils and plates as students eagerly turned their attention to the overflowing tables. The scent of roasted meats, fresh bread, and exotic dishes filled the hall, a sensory balm to soothe the wounds of pride.

 Riniock sat down, his resolve hardening beneath his quiet exterior. Trust is a luxury I can't afford, he quietly thought, reaching for a bowl of nuts. But for now, he would eat, observe, and prepare. There were greater challenges ahead, and he intended to face them wiser, stronger, and unyielding.

 Riniock ate, the clamour and chaos of the other students masking the sound of his determined chewing. Occasionally, he lifted his head, scanning the hall with a scowl.

 As his gaze swept across the room, it froze when it met Jorian's dark, unwavering expression. The man sat motionless amongst the other staff, untouched food before him, his attention fixed solely on Riniock with unsettling intensity.

 The subtle pressure in the air between them was almost palpable. Riniock forced himself to look away, returning his focus to his meal, though every bite now felt leaden and unappetizing. The conversation and laughter around him faded into a muffled haze.

 But this would only warrant further suspicion, emboldening Jorian.

 Feigning nonchalance, Riniock glanced back up. Jorian's eyes hadn't wavered; they remained fixed on him like a predator tracking prey.

 He exhaled slowly and let their eyes comfortably meet.

 If he wants to hunt me, I will make sure he'll chase a ghost through a maze.

 He turned back to his food, his mind already crating a contingency through this hurdle he was faced with.