Humiliation Ritual

What Axel really wanted to do right now was play football. Maybe even frolic in the fields. Sweat out the anxiety that had lodged itself in his bones at some unknown time. The thought made him recall Jules, and a pang of a headache threatened to rise. He dismissed the thought.

“Are you hungry?” Katarina asked. “I’m starving,” she said, her hand firm in his, leading them toward the canteen.

“I’m really tired,” Axel evaded reflexively. “I’d rather get some sleep.”

“Oh,” Kat pouted. He untangled himself from her clutch and started walking toward the dorms. Her heels clanked as she followed behind him, and he felt an unwelcome sense of dread.

“I’ll make us something to eat at home, then,” she crooned, re-intertwining their arms. Out in the hallway, Jules stood with his back turned to them. He glanced in their direction, baring his teeth in a snarl.

“Did that asshole just snarl?” Axel exclaimed, affronted. “Do people even do that?”

“Huh?” Kati halted, confused.

“Jules,” Axel grunted.

Her hold tightened on his arm, and she quickened their pace. “Come on,” she sighed.

The two made their way toward the boys’ dormitories while Axel seethed in anger the whole way there. He rubbed at his temple, the pain getting worse by the second.

“Did you forget to close the door?” Katarina asked, waking him out of his reverie.

Axel shook his head and walked in carefully. Unfamiliar luggage lay strewn about the little kitchenette. A pair of black boots was haphazardly discarded on the floor by the couch.

A voice drifted in through the open balcony door.

“This isn’t what we agreed on! Come on, you promised I would get a room on my own,” the person hissed bitterly.

Sensing their gaze on his back, he turned around slowly, gave the most exasperated sigh Axel has had the pleasure to witness, then slammed the balcony door shut.

“Guess that’s the new roommate,” Axel muttered, and Kati snorted, giving him a start. He’d forgotten she was there.

“Looks like a piece of work,” Kati grumbled, her eyes glued to her phone. “I’ll leave you to it, then,” she said, giving him an apologetic look. He nodded in understanding, a wave of relief washing over him at her exit.

-

Nightmares plagued him once again. In those restless recollections, the same beautiful face warped and stretched, taunting him, promising to be his reckoning.

Axel cursed a colorful serenade as he rushed into the bathroom. A quick cold shower would have to do; otherwise, he’d miss the assessment. He threw on his clothes and ran straight out of the dorms and toward the main university hall.

The stadium was buzzing with excitement, mostly that of the gifted kind. His jaw clenched and he began grinding his teeth before forcing himself to stop. A hand waved to get his attention from the front rows. He didn’t need to glance up to know it was Katarina.

His new roommate was sitting in one of the back rows, most of the seats around him empty. Axel angled toward him.

“I think your girlfriend is trying to get your attention,” Adrian said, without looking up from his phone.

Axel coughed, embarrassed. He didn’t know why he kept avoiding her. It wasn’t like he didn’t love her. Goddamn it, he loved her more than anything in the world. So, what the hell was his damn problem?

Katarina settled back into her chair, disappointed, her eyes fixed on him in silent question. He shot her a text.

Sorry, thought it would be good to befriend the new kid, he typed out. Then he added another line: Since we’ll be living together, better get off on the right foot.

He pocketed his phone and steadied his breathing. Up on the stage, names were being called in alphabetical order, and students were walking up into the array to demonstrate their affinities.

“What letter are they at?”

“B,” the new kid said.

“Long way till S.” Axel heaved a sigh and settled back into his seat.

“Why aren’t they leaving?” Adrian asked, his eyes following the students retreating from the stage and back to their seats.

“Because it’s a humiliation ritual,” Axel answered. Adrian looked up at that.

“What do you mean?”

“If you’re good, you get to show everyone just how good you are, and if you’re bad...” He let the words hang, motioning with his hand toward the many rows of first-year students. “You either get so mortified that you work harder, or so mortified that you leave the school.”

“Do many students drop out?”

“At least one or two per semester,” Axel lamented, fear threading his nerves. He could be one of them.

“Cera, Adrian,” the announcer’s voice boomed through the microphone, and Adrian got up smoothly.

“That would be me,” he said.

“Good luck,” Axel whispered.

Adrian walked up on stage and stood in the middle of the array. On the computer screen behind him, the line charts fizzed up and down disorderly, signifying his shaky hold on his powers. He tried to focus the energy into place, and the line steadied momentarily before plunging all the way down into a straight line. Gasps echoed in tandem through the hall.

Axel cringed. His results wouldn’t prove much better.

Adrian laid his hand on the stone tablet in front of him and channeled some of his magic into the stone. Nothing happened. The announcer hiccuped into the microphone. “It’s alright, it’s alright! Our new student hasn’t had time to familiarize himself with the school system. It’s probably a system malfunction. Let’s try that again later,” he rambled into the speaker, rushing Adrian off the stage.

Adrian returned solemnly to his seat.

“Sorry, dude,” Axel muttered under his breath. Eyes shifted in their direction, and Axel almost wished he’d sat next to Katarina instead. A shiver ran down his spine. No, nothing was worth that kind of suffering. The thought made him flinch, his hand reflexively reaching up to rub at his temples.

“Dale, Katarina,” the announcer said, and she took her spot on the stage. The graphs on the screen remained steady, displaying constant control of the magic in her grip. She laid her hand on the tablet and a swarm of bees shimmied into existence and spread outward in formation.

B-Class Magic possessor.

A round of applause echoed in the hall and she returned to her seat.

Axel’s mind drifted, sleep slowly claiming him, until the announcer uttered the next name.

“Fields, Julian.” Axel straightened.

Julian’s breath was steady as he felt all the attention fixed raptly on him. He called upon the comforting hum of his magic, letting the energy coil around his limbs, spreading through his fingertips and out of the soles of his feet. Behind him, the screen exhibited an almost perfect horizontal line.

He heard a few students whistle in the front rows.

He wiggled his fingers to release some of the pent-up energy and laid his palm on the stone surface. The humming power released through his flesh, engulfing the stone in a white glow. He willed the magic to do as it pleased.

“Free reign,” he whispered, and all around him, the energy crackled. The hall shook with the thrum of power, all of its inhabitants holding their breath. Just as fast, he withdrew the magic, leaving behind a wave of tinnitus. Students in the front seats rubbed at their ears, some of them rushing outside from the aftershock.

Whispers echoed, interlaced with hesitant, intermittent applause.

“A-Class Magic Possessor,” Axel read the words displayed on the screen, then grimaced. The headache was turning into a full-fledged migraine.

“You sound impressed,” Adrian remarked.

“Why the hell would I be?” Axel retorted, harsher than necessary.

-

Katarina rushed to catch hold of Axel before he stepped out of the hall. “Did you see the group chat?” she asked, her nails digging into his bicep.

“I’m not joining, Kat,” Axel snapped, and she visibly stilled. Guilt swarmed through him immediately and he began to apologize. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it like that.”

“Yes, he did,” Adrian stated from his side.

“You did. You just endured a humiliation ritual in front of every other student in our year,” he continued casually. “You and I will be clinking a glass to failure. Sorry, Kat, that’s your name? I’m stealing your boyfriend tonight,” he told the two of them resolutely.

Katarina let go of Axel, accepting defeat. “Okay... text me later?” she asked with uncertainty. Axel nodded and walked behind his unexpected savior to their dorm room.

“Thanks,” he said.

“Don’t get used to it,” came the answer, and Axel chuckled.

Adrian lounged in the recliner and announced to the room as if he were a royal on a damn throne, “I like this seat. It’s mine moving forward.”

Axel snorted. “Of course, Your Highness,” he spat. Then he stopped, a thought striking him. “Wait, your dad is that guy, right...”

“We don’t talk about him,” Adrian stopped him, flicking a hand in dismissal.

“Understood,” Axel acquiesced. But then he said something else.

“Just like we don’t talk about you being the president of the ‘I hate my girlfriend’ club,” Adrian smiled at him innocently.

Axel’s heart sank and he steadied himself against the wall. “That’s not true,” he refuted, but a little voice in his mind nagged otherwise. He hated himself so damn much in that moment he felt he could vomit. He loved Katarina. She wasn’t perfect, but nobody was. Except Jules. Shit. Pain shot through his head again and he caught his breath.

Adrian watched him silently for a second, before deciding whatever it was, it wasn’t worth his time. He casually glanced through the cupboards instead, making displeased faces as he looked around.

“Do we have soda pop or orange juice or something?” he asked, his face obstructed behind the fridge door.

Axel dropped himself onto the sofa, leaning his head back to stifle the shooting pain. Everything hurt.

“At least you managed to manifest something,” Adrian added, pulling out a couple of glasses. “Don’t look so stumped. The categories are bullshit anyway. I thought your explosion was pretty impressive.”

“They don’t judge based on the intensity of the magic; they judge on control and intention,” Axel responded. His hands were wringing with phantom pain from the earlier fire. The nurse had immediately healed the wound, and more skilled students had limited the range of the outburst.

He slumped again; D-Class was the bottom of the barrel. He could hardly hold onto his position here.

The fridge and cupboards must not have yielded the desired results, because Adrian handed him a glass of vodka neat. He took a little sip and withdrew to bed.

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