Malakim Geoffrey, the Guardian used in Instructor Leor's demonstration, was practically vibrating with anticipation. Alex was still having a hard time seeing him as the terrifying force Elza had encountered, now more than ever.
“Do your best! I believe in you!” he shouted, as the two squared up. “Remember, whoever loses, one of you wins!”
While that was logically and technically true, it was more confusing than anything. Gwendolyn and Jacob both looked at him from across the battlefield, neither looking reassured. Geoffrey didn't seem to notice, and beamed at them. “Show everyone how great you are! You're Angels in the making, future heroes!” he said, pumping a fist in the air.
Despite any lingering self-consciousness, Gwendolyn and Jacob both burst into smiles, and then hearty, full-lunged laughs. They turned back towards each other, and for a moment, Alex thought they were going to run to each other and high-five. Instead, Jacob snapped his fingers at Gwendolyn, who in response gave an overly-performative bow, dipping her head low, one hand in front of her and one at the small of her back.
“This one's pretty even,” Percy said. One of the tallest of the boys, he had half the class looking at him just by virtue of talking, let alone his always-authoritative tone. "My money's on Gwendolyn, though."
"Money?" Nicolas, a tall, taciturn boy said. His hair was black, his eyes were dark, and his expression was consistently darker, somehow.
"You know what I mean," Percy said. Some of the students were better at analogy than others.
"No," Nicolas said. "Money is-"
"Shh," Lucas said, having returned from his battle. "I gotta see how this goes."
The boys and girls had, once again, filtered into their own groups, despite the ongoing feeling that they should be standing next to their Pairs. Alex supposed that there was a logical side to it - after all, if they were going to fight their Pairs, they wouldn't want to give them any advantage - but even he had to admit that he was avoiding his Pair out of shyness, not practicality.
The other boys, upon Lucas's return, had clapped him on the shoulder in congratulations. He'd won the first fight, and so, had made things look a little easier for the rest of them.
Jacob, about as average as could be, squared up against Gwendolyn, still separated by about twenty meters of battlefield.
"So, how do you want to do this?" he asked.
Gwendolyn said nothing, pacing slightly to the left, analyzing his movement.
"I mean, you could attack first. That'd be a pretty good strategy, you score higher than me on tests, it'd be straightforward and it would get things over-with quickly. But-" he said, trailing off. Gwendolyn raised her fists, and Alex could feel her spiritual horizon intensify, the focus of her magic growing stronger.
Jacob grinned. "I said that. Which means I know that would be the best strategy. Which means I probably anticipated whatever you might do with that assumption."
Gwendolyn squinted, and collapsed the ground beneath Jacob's left foot. Alex didn't catch what spell she used to do it, but sucking the moisture out of the ground and concentrating it above was a solid method, and what he would have used. Jacob stumbled, and Gwendolyn rushed forward. She wasn't a particularly strong girl, but Jacob wasn't a particularly strong boy.
"You'd think that you could come up and take my bandanna just like that, but-", he said, with a tone of absolute confidence that would give anyone else pause, but Gwen was committed. She ran towards him.
"Take these disparate strands and untangle them," she said, each word ringing out with Irinaen purpose. Even though she spoke quietly, the words resonated in each of the students, pinging against their magical senses. And with those words, the cloth around Jacob's wrist reacted, unknotting itself. He lunged for the piece of cloth.
She lunged faster.
"Gwendolyn wins!", Leor cried out, coming over and raising her hand, still grasping Jacob's armband, to the sky.
"He always overthinks these things," Quint said. Alex didn't know if he was frowning at Jacob's performance, or if it was just the fact that Quint was always frowning.