This is a 1,000-word challenge piece written based on an image prompt.
“My final exam was a tornado.”
“That must be one of those tests you have nightmares about later,” said Sal, with a smile that warmly crinkled his eyes. “Did you have to create a tornado?”
Mallory half-smiled at him. The cool porcelain handle of her teacup felt soothing in her hands- twiddling with it kept her from doing something irritating like drumming her fingers on the table. As personable as Sal could be he was still a Dragon, and if he decided he didn’t like how this conversation was going, well, he’d end it however he wanted to. How should she tell this story? Did she need to be particularly interesting? Did she need to protect his ego?
The only other person in the café was an orkish woman, currently occupied in bussing the counter and showing no interest in what looked like a normal pair of giants seated in the corner.
Mallory had taken too long to continue- Sal was talking again, drawing her out. “I hope it wasn’t a group project on top of everything else- different people directing winds, atmospheric pressure, rainfall, what have you.”
Mallory took a swig of tea and decided to proceed with the story as it had really happened. For now. She’d monitor his reaction and make swerves as needed. “Actually, we had to stop the tornado. See, the Chancellor took us out to the middle of nowhere, arranged us in a field and gave us an inspiring speech. Then she gestured to the horizon and there was this funnel cloud. She told us the only rule was to end the threat without loss of life, however we would manage it. We were the top students and there were only a handful of us.”
“Did you all know each other, or does the University sort of partition you off?”
“Well, it kind of depended. Some of us knew each other very well. I think two of the other students were married to each other. I knew all of their names and faces, but there were only a handful that I’d talked to enough to really consider friends and only one I knew very well. She was a Phlegmatic. Is a Phlegmatic. She’s alive.”
“Are all of ‘em still alive or did you get points off? Sorry, I’m getting ahead.”
Mallory laughed dutifully. “No one died during the exam, how about that? Anyway, my friend- the Phleg- she said she was just going to set up a triage station. She pulled another guy to use as an assistant. The Sanguines in the group step forward and start discussing wind speeds and each of them picks a direction to pull the funnel cloud into. And me, I blow things up, so I’m a little bit at a loss. So are the Melans. They start asking each other if they should make a fort.”
“Did they?”
“They started on something, I don’t think they got very far because one of them starts mounding up earth and the other one goes, wait, this isn’t going to help anyone, and I think they kind of gave up.”
“What did you end up doing?”
“Well, I don’t have any Sanguine but I know theory and all of that so I go up to the group who’s doing that and I start making suggestions, really politely, you know. The kind of suggestions you make when you know you can’t really help. And they blew me off. Really politely. All the time there’s this awful roaring-train sound and I keep wondering if the Uni has a backup plan or if they’ll really let us die. You hear about people disappearing after exams.”
“Oh, all the time, ma’am. All the time.” He brought his coffee mug up to his mouth. His tone was as jovial as ever but his expression was distant.
Mallory shrugged a little. “Did I mention that we’re all sort of disowned as soon as we’re recruited? I think a lot of people there, their parents never knew where they went. They all say it’s voluntary, but… look, you’ve heard all the rumors. I’m getting off the subject. My point was, people can disappear from there. You can’t say, oh it wouldn’t happen because someone would find me. Like, that’s not necessarily the case.” She folded her hands on the table and looked down at her short, plain nails. There were ink marks on some of them, and dirt and soot underneath them. “So the cloud gets closer and the wind is slapping us around and we’re all trying to yell over it. The Sangs are doing the wrong thing, and it’s not helping, and I’m getting tempted to scream at them. My buddy and her assistant in the triage station are looking at us like we’re all imbeciles and the Mels are hiding behind the little hill they started trying to make and the Chancellor is just watching.”
“I think I’m developing a new appreciation for handwritten essays.”
“Right, well, so she steps forward, and she raises her hands and it stops. It all just- stops. I still don’t know whether it was all just an illusion. And she’s very gracious, she tells the Sangs they almost had it, but they made one mistake basically- they need to learn that people who don’t have their element might be telling them good theory and that was me, basically. And she told me to be more assertive when I have good information. Everyone was polite, the Sangs were a little sheepish and one of them apologized. It wasn’t, you know, a mean girls, everyone hated me after- no, they were all very kind, but I still felt, you know.”
Sal laughed warmly. “I can’t say that I do know. I love public compliments. But I understand that you felt a bit singled out.”
“Yes, and I was wondering, does the Chancellor want something from me in particular. Why am I so important?”
“Mm. What happened to the Mels?”
“They flunked.”
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