Standing in the middle, being looked down by everyone, his face burned with a deep, suffocating heat. A shame more potent than any fire magic he'd ever witnessed.
"Last place. Just great," a dryad student sneered to a friend.
His throat felt like sandpaper, swallowing was a monumental effort. He glanced at the person who's supposed to be his sister and she averted her gaze.
Clenching his fist, for a split second there he thought she had something to do with this result but her expression was of genuine surprise. He wanted to redo to this test but deep-down he knew it was true.
The number 500 was a brand seared into his soul.
Among the laughters and snickers, avoiding anyone's eyes, he was the first one to leave the colosseum before they could even call the second years. He just needed to get out. He morphed into a bat. The transformation was instantaneous, a dizzying rush of shrinking limbs and sprouting wings.
Fenia was watching him under a tree, having heard everything that happened inside, a sympathetic look she quickly hid by continuing to watch the show on her phone. He flew past her, a small, desperate flicker in the vast afternoon sky.
After a minute, Liv and Alya came out, looking for him but being unable to find him. They approached Fenia, their expressions a mixture of panic and anger. The wolf maid didn't even look up from her screen, her wolf ears were tracking Ryker's distant flight path.
"Do you know where he is? Did you see him leave?" Liv's voice was sharp.
Shutting of her phone with a click she said, "He seems to be going back to the dorm."
Her mismatched wolf ears twitched with an unreadable emotion.
"I suggest you give him some space. He got last place. That stings. And he's a Dracula. That stings twice."
Ryker flew until exhaustion began to seep into his small bat bones, his Iota core barely providing enough mana to keep his wings a float. The tightness in his chest grew bigger and bigger as he landed in front of the dormitory's entrance.
He ran inside, sweat beading down his body.
The jug of water looked appealing as if he would die if he didn't drink it immediately. He grabbed a cup of water from the lounge and drank it one gulp. Then another and another.
His thoughts were swirling, a chaotic storm of self-pity and rage. Last place. He knew he didn't have that much potential but last place was completely pathetic.
And the way everyone laughed. It was a melody composed for him. A special Ryker-Larduca-fuck-up song. Gulping down another cup of water, he realized he wasn't alone in the lounge.
The one thing that mesmerized him was her eyes. One green and one yellow.
But that mesmerization ended quickly once he realized she wasn't even looking at him. Last place was so uninteresting she didn't even bother to stare.
His teeth grounded together.
All the glory he wanted to get with this academy, only to be reduced to an object of ridicule. A failure.
Licking the tip of her finger, she flipped another page of the romance novel in her hand, completely ignoring him.
"Hello?"
His own anger made him sound pathetic, even to himself.
The girl slowly raised her head, her mismatched gaze meeting his.
"Do you want to read it together? I'm at the best chapter. The duke just confessed his undying love but he's too noble to defile the pure maiden and it's absolutely delicious torture."
She was holding up the book, inviting him.
Her expression was one of earnest excitement.
Ryker was blinking rapidly, trying to process the scene. The whole world saw him as a failure. The colosseum's laughter still rang in his ears but she acted like nothing had happened.
"Are you a student?"
He grabbed the plastic cup in his hand and squeezing it into a shapeless lump.
"Second year. Adventure Course."
Her attention already drifted back to the book, her index finger tapping expectantly on the page.
"You didn't attend the ceremony?"
She lifted her eyes to him, a flicker of something akin to pity in their mismatched depths.
"No. It seemed boring."
Her simple dismissal of an event that had defined his day perhaps his whole future was a physical blow.
"So you don't know?" the bitterness in his tone was a sour thing.
"That you're last place?" she finished for him, her head cocking to one side.
Ryker slumped his back to the wall.
"I guess it was broadcasted everywhere," he mumbled. The shame was a second skin, tight and suffocating.
The vampire girl shook her head, a cascade of midnight black hair falling over her shoulder.
"No. You're radiating pathetic self-pity like a lighthouse. Even if you hadn't taken a bath in shame, I'd know. It's my special talent," she tapped the side of her head.
He scoffed, "Your talent is sniffing out pity?"
It came out more aggressive than he meant.
"Something like that. Anyways do you want to read the book or not?"
The conversation was over for her.
"No I don't want to read your trashy romance novel," he snapped, the words tasting like acid.
The frustration of the day needed a target, and she was an easy, stationary one.
"So pitiful for last place."
She buried herself back in the book. It was a direct stab at his wound.
Ryker slammed the plastic cup onto the table.
Then he just sighed and took the elevator upstairs. Leaving her alone with her story.
Another vampire walked in. His aura radiating with power, a third year.
"Rosy was it really worth it to skip the ceremony?" he asked, not even glancing at her. He walked straight to the dispenser and started making himself a cup of tea. The movements were practiced, efficient, like a surgeon in an operating room.
"You know everyone who attended the assembly is now gossiping about some kraken's husband with the lowest mana in school history," he added, the steam from his cup wafting up, partially obscuring the superior smirk on his face.
"Ryker Larduca."
The third-year's eyes snapped towards her, "So you did attend. How did you know the name? Using your 'I-can-smell-pity' magic again?" he teased, leaning against the counter.
Rosy clapped her book shut with a soft thud, a satisfied sigh escaping her lips.
"I think you should invite him to Nosfera, Ian," she suggested.
"Invite last place to our House?" he scoffed, "You're insane Rosy."
Crossing one leg over the other she said, "As a Tepes don't you think it's shameful to have such a weak vampire? Without a Dracula here, it's your chance to make your family more respectable than the Dracula's."
She then rested her chin on her hand, watching the wheels turn in Ian's head.
"Dracula's take and take. But if you," her eyes glowed faintly, "Took pity on him and made him respectable, that would make House Tepes the talk of the academy."
Ian sipped his tea, the warmth a stark contrast to the cold calculations brewing in his mind. Then he sighed.
"You are one cruel woman, Rosy," he placed the cup down with a clink that echoed in the quiet lounge.