Episode Three: The Gauntlet, Part I
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"Oh no," Tabbitha said.

"Wait, they were paired?" Rosaline said. "That... They really shouldn't fight. Right, Elza?"

Elza said nothing, watching Francesca and Caleb make their way to the field.

Alex swallowed nervously. "She'll do it quickly and cleanly." Francesca was, well, incredible. She had unstoppable power, unquestionable precision, and ingenious tactics. She was one of the most fearsome opponents any of them could face. Caleb was... not.

Percy winced. "Oh God."

Jacob, returned from his failure, looked at Percy. "Don't you believe in him?"

"No." The flatness of Percy's statement was discouraging. "The power and skill differentials are too much. And Francesca..." he trailed off. Most of the class were averse to giving definitive statements about Francesca.

"Go!" Leor yelled. The countdown, the anticipation, it'd all been missed. Francesca was by Caleb's side before any of them could register her movement. In the minimum possible amount of movement, she swept her ankle behind Caleb's, throwing him off-balance, and with an open-palm strike to the chest, she knocked him to the ground.

It had taken no more than two seconds.

"You really should tie yourself up," Francesca said, and waited, grinning at Caleb. "No? Allow me." She turned the cloth of his uniform into wrist-bindings, and knotted the laces of his boots together with a wave of her hand. "Do you want to give yourself up?"

She pressed the toe of her boot against Caleb's cheek. "Are you ready?"

Caleb said nothing, in part because Francesca's foot was in his mouth.

"That's such a shame," she said, and kicked. Caleb rolled backwards, and balled up a half dozen feet beyond her. She walked, slowly, towards him. "Surely you've got something to give me."

Caleb, meanwhile, just balled up.

"Aw," she said. "You're really as pathetic as you look, aren't you?" She hardly had to expend any effort as she walked towards him. But, as she did, something changed in his eyes. Fight took up residence in them.

"No!" he cried out, and with a thrust of magical force, he thrust himself upwards. It was an incredible burst of effort, one that kicked him upright, onto his feet, and summoned up a nullification field that would dampen most magical efforts directed at him.

The key word in that sentence was "most."

Francesca drew her fists up into the air, closed her eyes, and began chanting. They couldn’t hear the exact incantation from the sidelines, but the air began to snap and sizzle around her. Then, she opened her eyes, thrust her fists at him, crossed wrist over wrist, and mouthed the word “Release”. A bolt of lightning shot from her, the concussive impact taking Caleb off his feet. Wordlessly, without ceremony, she walked over and ripped the cloth off Caleb’s wrist as he lay, groaning, in the dirt.

“That was a bit much…” Rosaline said, disapprovingly. An awkward air had fallen over the students, while Cassandra, Caleb and Francesca’s Guardian, was grinning ear to ear. “No,” Alex said. He knew Francesca. “She went easy on him. For her, at least.” He was glad she had practiced at least a little restraint.

“Hey,” Francesca said, more quietly. Holding Caleb’s wristband, she ignored Leor declaring her victory - admittedly, he’d declared it somewhat quietly, being less enthusiastic about her utter trouncing of Caleb than Cassandra was. “Chin up. I’m better than you, but you tried.” She smiled, and held out her hand to him. “Maybe there’s something to you.”

Caleb reached up, and Francesca pulled her arm back, laughing. But then, before he could react, she grabbed him by the wrist, and yanked him to his feet. “Good effort.”

He looked confused for a moment, and then nodded. “Thank you?”

She smiled.

Instructor Leor cleared his throat. “Anyway, NEXT PAIR!