Spellcaster's Society: Drill #1

---

Round Two

N/A

---

Round Three

N/A

---

Finish Line

Gareth

Fail!

The funny thing about lights is that they are often intangible by nature. There is nothing connected to the light the boy sees, so nothing comes barrelling toward him when he casts his spell. It is a location, a destination he must reach through the aid of the more aptly used 'bubblehead charm' to make breathing under such conditions possible. Alas, the remaining drill will not wait for you to figure this out. The professor has prepared for such cautious spellcasters. A giant watery hand rises from the surface of the lake. Its fingers curl around the boy, yanking him in so he may complete his challenge. Around his nose and mouth, a bubble of flowing oxygen appears to preserve him, completing the job he hadn't done.

The water is cold, not frigid but enough to draw your attention as you become submerged. It's deeper than you ever expected, the depths stretching before you in all directions. Above you, the surface has vanished, leaving only the wet underworld of bariness and uncertainty. You lose your bearings for a moment, up looking like down and left looking far too much like right. Are you upside down? Right side up? Does it matter?

The light that enticed you into the murky depths grows brighter, lighting your path to the other side. Now it feels impossibly far, almost as if it were in another world or the other side of the world itself.

Do you have the stamina to swim so far?

In another moment, that doesn't matter either. What should appear but a faithful steed? It is already bridled for your benefit, the professor not actually wanting to see anyone drowned by the malevolent water demon. Tamed by its restraint, it is inclined to help you with your plight. The water horse moves close and gestures for you to get onto its back before speeding through the dark toward the increasingly blinding light.

Up and up and up...or down it goes, until you can make out the surface of the water.

It takes you to the very top, allowing you to get off in an incredibly small stone room with nothing but a door.

When you walk through, you'll find yourself in the observation deck of the club room, where others who have finished the challenge and chose to watch now sit. Some smile at you, some offer unsolicited advice. Stick around for a bit, if you'd like. Otherwise, enjoy the rest of your afternoon!

The bubble appeared around his head and next thing he knew, water engulfed him from all side. Barlowe seemed to be impatient. The cold quiet was startling but soothing in a way, the burn on his arm flaring with pain before it settled into no more than a pleasant sting.

With nothing else to do, Drago swam. Deeper and farther but the bleak surroundings never changed. Only that light somewhere in the distance, never growing bigger, as though he was merely paddling in place, never truly moving.

For a moment, he paused, breath heavy and pulse pounding. Was he supposed to do something? Find something? He was pretty sure the far-away light was where he was supposed to go but how?

Just when he pulled his wand forth again, something stirred the water nearby.

Taking no risks, Drago was pointing at the approaching creature without hesitance, a spell on his tongue and ready to cast. Maybe that was that the professor had sent then, but the creature never attacked. It came to a halt, nodding its head in encouragement. Drago hesitated but ultimately relented. The water horse was saddled. It wasn’t trying to actively kill him so how bad could it be.

Still, he kept his wand clutched all the way through the murky waters.

No need, as it turned out. They sped all the way to the growing light, at last breaking the surface. Giving the horse a pat to the neck, Drago left the creature behind to face nothing but a room with one door.

Grip on his wand tight and steady, Drago opened it with one abrupt swing, ready to face whatever else might come but nothing did. Only the spellcaster’s room and the students waiting and watching. His shoulders sagged. He had hoped for more — more challenges, more failures, more frustration and exertion. But all he got was reality. The memories and emotions he didn’t want.

Drago didn’t linger.

Too bad a giant hand of water came and grabbed him by force. His attempts to escape, or even to strike it with a basic spell, were futile. Trapped between the fingers of water, he was dragged into the freezing lake, and a pocket of air formed around his face to help him see and breathe. He secretly cursed all the teacher's ancestors, but he would never know this, and, dragged along by the giant hand, now invisible in the water and almost more like a strong current than anything else, he began to swim toward the light.

From there, he saw a sort of aquatic horse, fully dressed for riding, almost anxiously awaiting its rider. He sighed in exasperation; there was no other way out of there, right? He made to sit in the saddle, complete with a fastidious disdain for the super-docile beast. Almost without a command, it carried him to the shore at the end of the lake before disappearing beneath the depths, ready for a new passenger.

Cold, soaked, and nauseated by the situation, Gareth continued toward a door that opened to reveal the end of the test, with other students who had already completed it, better or worse than he could tell.
His only comment was a huffy “Worst. Drill. Ever.” before going to sit in a corner. If anyone even dared describe his test to anyone, he’d be vomiting slugs for a week. Minimum.