Chapter 2: One Week Before (part 2)
"So, do you think you're ready? For the trial, I mean." Tyren asked, sidling up beside her as the two of them walked down the torchlit stone hallway.
Eleanor shrugged.
"About as ready as anyone can be for something no one knows anything about." She said.
"So what did you decide to specialize in? Me and a couple of the other sixth years have a betting pool on it. If you say Evocation, I'll make enough that I can buy us both enough sugardough for a month." He said. "You're specializing in Evocation magic, right?"
"Nope. I'm not telling you." She said.
Tyren pouted.
"But why?" He asked.
"Because I don't want to tell you. And there is no way you'd give up an extra month's supply of sugardough to me for nothing, even if I did help you win. I know you better than that." She said.
"So you ARE specializing in it. You just don't want to admit it." He said.
Eleanor shook her head as the two of them rounded the corner into the East Wing main hall.
"What I am specializing in is none of your business, old man. And what makes you think I am specializing, anyways?"
Tyren stopped short beneath one of the large painted tapestries the lined the great hall, a look of mock offense on his face.
"Old man? How dare you! I may be an elf, but I am functionally the same age as you." He said. Eleanor couldn't help be get the feeling that if Tyren had been wearing pearls around his neck, he would be clutching them as he said this.
Eleanor snorted.
"Functionally nothing. You're sixty-seven. If you were born anything other than a pointy-eared tree-hugger, you'd be an old bald creep." She said, crossing her arms.
"And if you were anything other than a devil-blooded orphan, you'd probably..." Tyren started, but froze as Eleanor stopped short and fixated on him, her heart-shaped face twisted in fury.
"I'm sorry. WHAT did you call me?" She snarled, her tail snapping back and forth aggressively behind her.
"Hey, uh, El, I didn't mean it like-" Tyren stammered, but she cut him off.
She stepped close enough to him that he could feel the sweltering heat of her skin against his face, and stuck one of her blue fingers in his face.
"I am a Fire Tiefling, not a devil. I have a father and two sisters. I am not devil-blooded, and I am NOT an orphan. Do you understand?" She said more than asked, her golden gaze boring into him.
Tyren nodded, before turning his gaze away uncomfortably.
"Sorry, I was just trying to play is all. I didn't mean anything behind it." He said quietly.
Eleanor looked at him for a long moment, then sighed heavily as she closed her eyes
"Sorry. I just.... I don't like being called those things, Okay? A lot of people have treated me like a monster, or like I'm unfairly advantaged because of my bloodline. And not know your birth parents is hard enough, without everyone treating you like a freak for it. If you're gonna tease me, pick something else besides those, okay?" She said softly, before glancing down the hallway.
Tyren scratched the back of his head awkwardly, his face flush
"Yeah, sorry.... I didn't realize." He said.
Eleanor looked back at him. Seeing the look on his face, she now felt more than a little bad for over-reacting. She reached out and gently nudged him on the shoulder.
"We're fine. Or, we will be fine, as soon as you buy me some spiced cider from the Great Hall." She said, smirking at him mischievously.
Tyren narrowed his eyes at her.
"Why do I have a feeling you getting upset just now was just an elaborate ruse to get a free drink?"
Eleanor narrowed her eyes again as her tail flicked back and forth behind her.
"That really an accusation you wanna make the instant I no longer seem mad at you?" She asked.
Tyren swallowed hard and shook his head in defeat.
"No, I don't suppose it is." He said flatly.
Eleanor's expression brightened immediately.
"Good! Then it's settled. Lead the way, old man!" She said, gesturing sarcastically ahead of her.
Weekly Power Status
-- Power
Ranking 
-- Power
stone