The Exiled Gem

Camphor in the Library

The second years weren't altogether that good. Sixteen of them - and only seven won their tournaments against Alexandra's year.

Even before the tournament had started and she and Fred, who was a fifth year - had taken their seats in the commentary box, Master George had warned them. Especially Alexandra,

'They are NOT as good as you people were, which is why I want you all go easy on them. Think there's an easy level, then a medium level, then a hard level and after hard is when you start fighting as yourselves- stay on medium. If they are doing good, go to hard. If they are very good, you can push them. Is that clear to you all, Fourth Years?'

'Yes, Sir,' They said, looking at each other and then at him. She personally was very glad at being asked not to push herself completely. Since they had had no breakfast earlier in the day, she wasn't feeling completely herself. The reason behind no breakfast was simple - they were supposed to slowly increase their capacity to bear hunger. Today, no breakfast. The next day, no breakfast, no lunch. After that, a twenty four hour fast. Then a forty eight hour fast. And then a seventy two hour fast (at this point certain people were bound to have degenerated). If they survived the seventy two hour fast - that was a minimum. In case they could continue ... they could do so. But Alexandra was very sure she was not going to continue - in fact, she would be very lucky to not degenerate on the third day.

Master George, oblivious to the lengthy calculations and speculations of survival going on in her mind, nodded and gave Hans a wave - it was his turn first.

But all in all, her opponent was so incompetent - that she felt angry with herself. She had taught these people. And the particular second year she dueled, seemed to be suffering from a bad case of constipation - his moves were so inflexible - he was so sluggish.

Halfway through her duel, she turned her face to Master George in a clearly exasperated manner, and mouthed, this is not good. He seemed to agree, because he rested his hand on his chin and mouthed back, end it - show me the flip.

So, she pulled the second year off his feet and flipped him over - it was easier than flipping Henry, who had given much resistance and had a much better posture, anyhow. The teacher raised his Red flag and nodded to her - good, he said.

Alexandra only shrugged. She wasn't good, the second years were bad.

In the lunch that followed, everyone seemed to have similar opinions. 'Our seniors, none of them are like that. Even the first years - they are better. The second year - I can't really understand what's going on.' Owen declared, as she wolfed down whatever she could find, coming around once in a while to make a comment or to wave to a familiar face (of which, there were many).

'I've heard,' Paul added, resting his elbows on the table, 'that a whole year can be dismissed in special cases.'

'We ourselves came pretty close to it.' Venly agreed. But unknowingly (or perhaps knowingly), he had touched a raw spot. Rubbed salt on a fresh wound: the tipping off and the subsequent mass expulsion that could have happened.

Awkward silence. A silence punctured only by the sound of Alexandra pushing away her plate, her ravenous appetite fizzling out.

'Come on, it was our fault,' Paul pointed out - which was a little surprising, since he was the one who would normally have been the most uncomfortable about it.

'And it's no big deal. Daniel said that his year was once almost expelled too, because they lodged fireworks into Master George's chandelier - and that was a very serious thing - because it could have blown up the entire Office along with the Supervisory Centre that's next to it,' Alexandra informed, trying her best to break the frost that had gathered around them. 'And you know, then there's Kane - who set Master George's beard on fire!' She added, getting the sudden brainwave.