“After last year’s infamous incident upon which a sixteen-year-old Witch, Jodie Parthenos, was attacked by a swarm of pixies while alone during the scavenger hunt event, this year’s Junior Mage Tournament will now require students to participate in groups of two.”
Evermoore was appalled, utterly appalled, at this news. Appalled that they dared to put in such a policy, appalled that their school counselor was trying to pair her up with an infamous troublemaker, and appalled that said troublemaker didn’t seem nearly as upset as she was.
“You can’t be serious, Mr. Chuck!” She stood up from her chair and made pleading eye contact with her school counselor. “You can’t do this to me!”
Evermoore pointed to the strawberry blonde girl beside her, arms crossed, popping bubble gum between eye rolls.
“And you,” Evermoore snapped to get her attention. “Why are you so calm?! You hate me too!?”
“Why wouldn’t I be,” Zenobia groaned. “You’re the one that’s so uptight about everything.”
Evermoore snatched the paper off the desk and shoved it into Zenobia’s face.
“This!” she said, “This is why!”
Zenobia squinted at the words before saying, “I don’t know what that even says.”
Before Evermoore could respond, Mr. Chuck gestured for her to sit back down.
“It means, Zenobia,” he said. “You and Ms. Crypt will be on a team for the upcoming Junior Mage Tournament.”
Zenobia spat out her gum quicker than Evermoore had risen from her chair.
“What?!” she shrieked. “Absolutely not! I don’t even wanna be in this stupid competition. It’s for nerds!”
“Let’s use nice words, Ms. Glitz,” Chuck tried to calm them both down. “Both of you settle down; it will be okay.”
It hadn’t been Evermoore or Zenobia’s first visit to the counseling office in their three years of attending the prestigious academy in the upper city. Zenobia had a history of disciplinary issues that would spontaneously erupt in the middle of her lunch period or between classes. Evermoore had a history of reporting those issues, or rather when she suspected those issues could arise. So, their reactions weren’t a surprise to Mr. Chuck. He knew them. And he knew how much the two magelings hated each other.
And yet, they were still the most sensible pair for the upcoming Junior Mage Tournament.
Evermoore was objectively one of the most skilled students the school had seen in years. Her grades were perfect. She passed every exam and evaluation with flying colors, and she would have been her grade’s solo pick for the tournament had this new policy not been introduced.
Meanwhile, Zenobia was the most talented of their recent students. She didn’t listen in class or participate in after-school events. But her magical prowess was leagues ahead of the rest of her peers. If the lesson called for a simple freezing potion, she’d have crafted a brew of flame so potent it could melt an iceberg.
But still, neither of them was the perfect pick. They were seventeen, after all.
Evermoore had attended the Junior Mage Tournament twice and hadn’t made it past the honorable mentions. The judges had seen her skill, but she lacked flair. Both years she had competed, she had been sent home with a faux ribbon and a rubric with “good work, boring to watch” scribbled into the margins.
Zenobia, meanwhile, was failing most of her classes. She was flashy and charismatic, but school wasn’t a talent show. She never did her assignments correctly, if she did them at all. She was only still attending their academy because of the exorbitant amounts of money her parents donated annually.
By themselves, either would have a decent chance of placing in this year’s competition, just as Evermoore had in her previous two attempts… But together? They’d cover each other’s weaknesses, talent and skill, flair and form… together they would be unstoppable… or at least the administration thought so.
“So, what if I’m not flashy or- or-” Evermoore had yet to sit back down. “Being boring is better than being-”
“Being what?!” Zenobia stood up to meet her gaze, hazel eyes meeting emerald, green. “Whatever I am, I’m still better than you!”
“At least I don’t spend most of my time staring at my reflection!”
“At least I don’t have a massive, ugly forehead!”
“Alright! That’s enough! Both of you sit down!” Mr. Chuck clapped his hands, and with a flash of purple light, they were both glued to their seats. “I know you don’t want to work together, but it’ll be a great learning experience! Think of all the wonderful things you could learn from one another.”
Evermoore snorted, a coarse, condescending laugh erupting from her mouth.
“Learn? From her? What could I possibly learn from a Sorceress? They get all their magic from ‘feelings.’ The only thing she could ever teach me is, well… well… Nothing!”
“At least it’s better than having books for friends, Ms. Wizard-in-training!” Zenobia didn’t meet her gaze. Instead, she looked to her counselor with watery, puppy dog eyes. “Mr. Chuck, she’s being mean to me!”
Chuck put his face into his hands as the duo continued to argue. This went on for several minutes, with insults being thrown left and right.
“This is my last chance to bring home a blue ribbon!” Evermoore shouted. “I will not have you ruin it by getting one of your icky glitter bombs all over my work!”
“First of all, my glitter bombs are not icky! Secondly, I can’t even compete! My parents didn’t sign the paperwork! ”
For a moment, Evermoore and Zenobia shared a moment of relief. The school would just have to send someone else to Zenobia’s place!
“Actually, Ms. Glitz…” Chuck finally looked up. “I called your parents yesterday… Turns out they did sign the forms. They sent them to me after finding them crumpled in the trashcan…”
After three days of dreading the upcoming trainwreck that would indeed become of the Junior Mage Tournament, Evermoore finally found herself at the gigantic marble stadium where the tournament would be held. Towering pillars held up gold-tinted arches that sat above the crowds. Flutes and harps could be heard as Bards played their instruments, fireworks erupting from Magicians’ wands in the sky. Just above the entrance, flying high in the omenless sky, was their country’s flag – Majora, the land of Mages – with its pink and purple stripes and silver asteroid shape in the middle. It was a sight to behold.
Evermoore took a deep breath and took in the sight. This would be her last chance to see it. While she still had one year until graduation, the board in charge of the tournament only allowed schools to enter students thrice. That’s why she had to win. That’s why Zenobia couldn’t ruin this for her. If lost again, what was even the point? Wizards were supposed to be smart – they were supposed to be on top. She was supposed to be a scholar whose knowledge was second only to those higher in her study of magic. A good wizard would have placed in the last two competitions.
She had gotten her hopes up. Sure, the school and her parents were expecting her to go, but if there was one thing she knew about Zebby, it was that she didn’t care what her superiors thought of her. At ten minutes to five, Evermoore was sure her partner wouldn’t show up.
“Where’s that little friend of yours?” Evermoore’s mother, Heliot, stood next to her, holding nothing but a pair of pan pipes while her daughter carried all the rest of their belongings. She is not my friend!” Evermoore groaned. “Can’t you carry some of this?”
“No, dear! Look, my hands are full.” Heliot held up the pan pipes in one hand and didn’t bother to hide that the other was unoccupied.
“So -” Evermoore caught a pair of loose sunglasses on her foot as they fell from her backpack. “Cast a spell or something. You’re a Bard!”
“I would… But alas, I’m a bit rusty…”
“Then why’d you even bring those stupid things?”
Heliot looked behind Evermoore, her permanently smug face becoming even smugger.
“Oh, look! There’s your friend! The blondie, right?”
Evermoore’s tanned face turned pale as her blood ran cold. She didn’t even bother to turn around before hearing a familiar, bubbly voice behind her.
“But Daddy, I don’t even want to be here!” Zenobia whined, lugging nothing but an overly expensive staff behind her. “It’s going to be so hot and sweaty outside, and that mean Wizard girl from school is going to yell at me all day.”
“That’s wonderful, sweetie…” Zenobia’s father paid no attention to her.
Zenobia rolled her eyes.
“Dad!” she yelled. “Are you even listening to me?”
Only when Zenobia snapped her fingers, a few magical sparks flying off her fingertips, did he realize she was talking to him.
“Yes, dear?” he said. “What were you saying?”
“I told you I wanted to go to the movies with Jenny today!” she was walking backward, trailing before him. “Remember?”
“Oh… Yes, I remember,” he said, straightening his glasses. “But this is more important! Lots of job opportunities and whatnot… Besides, that Jenny girl is… a bit of a downer, don’t you think? I wouldn’t want her to put a damper on my little girl’s smile.”
He pressed his fingers to the ends of Zenobia’s mouth and pushed her expression into a temporary smile. Zenobia swatted his hands away and turned her back to him.
Muttering, she finally noticed a familiar mage with dark hair, skin, and eyes up ahead, her grim expression turning mischievous.
“Oh, hello, there!” Zenobia waved her arms about as Evermoore pulled the hood of her cowl over her head. “Did you miss me, Evermoore?”
“What are you doing here?!” Evermoore sneered, her mother cackling beside her. “I thought you were going to skip?!”
“I never said that… I just said I didn’t want to be here… Not that I wouldn’t show, silly.”
“Do not call me ‘silly’. Ever.”
Zenobia gave a fake pout. Evermoore groaned, pulling her hood further over her head. Zenobia unsheathed the staff she carried and began twirling it around.
“Put that away!” Evermoore grumbled.
“Why?” Teasing her, Zenobia kept waving it around in Evermoore’s face. “I think you’re just jealous because all you’ve got is an old stick for a wand, and I have a shiny new staff!”
Evermoore grabbed the staff with both of her hands, bringing Zenobia’s twirling to a stop.
“Listen,” she said, sternly. “I get you have better things to do – like putting irremovable magic paint on my locker or something – but just try to play along, like you actually care, please?”
Zenobia craned her neck to see her parents wandering off to gawk at some fancy, marble pillar. She wondered; would they even bat an eye if she didn’t try her hardest? Did they even know what trying her hardest looked like? She thought for a moment as Evermoore nervously waited for an answer.
“Just relax,” Zenobia laughed. “It’ll be fine. What’s the worst that could happen?”
The “worst” came in the form of two separate yet consecutive explosions.
The goal of the first round had been to brew a potion, using the provided ingredients, that would impress the judges and their strict rubric. Evermoore had since let her guard down. Despite not being a standard “wizardy” activity, potions were her strong suit. And surely, she thought, how could Zenobia mess up a simple potion?
Technically, she had done everything correctly. She’d just seen how utterly boring Evermoore’s recipe was, and decided it needed a little more flair. Explosive flair, to be exact. The main issue came into play after Zenobia miscalculated how much phoenix powder was needed and doubled the amount.
Suffice to say, either the Glitzes or the Crypts will be paying for the brand-new hole in the stadium floor.
Evermoore had then spent the next hour ranting and raving at Zenobia. Unfortunately for our resident goody-two-shoes, half of that hour was when the rules for round two were being announced. She hadn’t heard a thing, and thanks to her little spiel, neither had her only teammate.
It wasn’t until halfway through the time limit that one of them figured out that the goal was to construct a summoning circle, upon which they threw together a mess of chalk, herbs, and some overburnt incense. The result would’ve been impressive had a group of primary schoolers concocted it. To add insult to injury, the circle exploded, knocking off Evermoore’s glasses.
There were two holes in the floor and no trace of hope, but Evermoore was still dead set on getting a blue ribbon. She would not let two stupid mistakes cost her the entire competition – she simply could not.
Zenobia didn’t think the tournament could become even more insufferable, but then the final event demanded that she and Evermoore tie their ankles together and hobble to a finish line that was two miles away. Suddenly, she had a new definition of “insufferable”.
Her makeup had melted from the combined heat of the sun and the previous two combustions, creating this awful, sticky feeling on her face. She looked to Evermoore. The wizard girl seemed unfazed, though her resting face was slightly less aggravated than her angry one. Her glasses sat firmly on the bridge of her hawk nose, and not a single hair had come loose from the tight bun she held her brunette hair in – almost like she hadn’t had what was essentially two bombs detonate in her face. Zenobia’s hair was a mess. Her leggings were a mess. Her blouse was a mess. Her personality, mind, and feelings were all a mess.
She was a mess.
Why did Evermoore get to be so perfect, and she had to be a mess?
Zenobia’s parents had since wandered off, stating that they were confident in her abilities or something like that. They wouldn’t be there if she crossed the finish line first. They wouldn’t be there if she was last. Typical.
“This is stupid,” she muttered. “So, so stupid!”
“Shut it, will you?” Evermoore replied. “You’ve already ruined two events today! Don’t you think that’s enough?”
“Oh, I ruined the events?” Zenobia snorted as Evermoore finished tying the cloth around their now-shared ankle. “At least I didn’t spend an hour yelling over the instructions!”
“Ugh…” Evermoore groaned. “Just follow my lead…”
The girls glared at each other one last time before a whistle was blown, and the other contestants rushed into the woodland behind the stadium. Evermoore and Zenobia stumbled forward. Turns out, walking gets harder when you have to do it in tandem with someone at least a foot taller or shorter than you. It didn’t help that Evermoore had left her bags inside – no longer having the extra weight to balance out Zenobia’s lanky figure. Zenobia only had her staff strapped to her back. They both would’ve hit the ground if Zenobia hadn’t placed her left arm on the ground and caught Evermoore with the other.
Suddenly, they were at the back of the race, with a mile still left to go.
They hobbled forward for another twenty minutes, unable to coordinate their movements. The entire world started to seem like an endless, blurry loop. They hadn’t seen any other competitors in ten or so minutes, just the same trees, rocks, and squirrels repeatedly. The trail had disappeared; neither were sure if it was intentional or if they had strayed off.
“I can’t believe you got us lost,” Evermoore muttered.
“Excuse me?” Zenobia retorted.
The skin around their ankles was starting to chafe around the tie, which was now uncomfortably soaked in mud. The grass had cut along the edges of their legs. Sweat dripped from their faces as the sun beat down on them with its infernal rays.
“I said,” Evermoore tugged her leg to the side, causing Zenobia to fall sideways. “You got us lost!”
“You’ve got to be kidding me. You told me to follow your lead! If we’re lost, it’s your fault!”
The sun grew hotter, angrier. The woods around them stirred, the sound of bugs and vermin squirming filling their pointy ears. Water trickled down a slope to their left like a river of emotions about to burst through a dam. It was hot. I was loud. It was insufferable.
“I -” the shorter girl was stumbling over her words. “You – Agh! I just don’t know the trail! If the judges had given me time to familiarize myself with the area-”
“Yeah, ’cause nothing’s ever your fault, is it Evermoore?”
Zenobia chuckled while Evermoor fumed, smoke billowing off her brow, sparks flying. If the sun didn’t burn them alive, she surely would.
“I mean,” Zenobia said. “I thought wizards were supposed to be smarter than that-”
Evermoore shoved all her weight into Zenobia, forgetting in her fury that they were linked at the ankle. They both fell, then started rolling down the nearby slope, hitting an assortment of rocks and sticks on the way down. It wasn’t until they reached the bottom of that slope that they stopped rolling and skidded against the rough dirt beneath them.
Zenobia had gotten lucky, with a few scrapes and bruises, but she was relatively unscathed for tumbling down a hill.
Evermoore was not so fortunate.
Zenobia heard a loud “crack” just as they hit the bottom, followed by a loud yell from Evermoore. The poor Wizardess said nothing. Instead, she began to cry. Tears fell down her cheeks, combining with the sweat to drench her hair. Evermoore’s glasses shattered in the process, the frames so bent out of place that they’d be unusable from that point onward.
“Oh, gods!” she shouted. “I’m so stupid!”
“Are you alright?!” Zenobia shrieked. She began to panic, her heart quickening with each second passing by.
“No!” Evermoore quieted down a bit, her voice now raspy from a day’s worth of yelling. “Of course not! I’m so stupid.”
“Shoot,” Zenobia whispered. She fumbled with her outfit, realizing she didn’t have any pockets or anything on her for that matter. All she had was her staff, which wouldn’t be much use regardless – she didn’t know any healing magic. “Shoot, shoot, shoot! What do we do?!”
“I don’t know!” If Evermoore had accidentally brought something along, she wouldn’t have known. She couldn’t see more than an inch in front of her. The only shapes she could make out were the vague outline of her body and the bloody bruises covering it. “I’m so, so, so, so stupid!”
“Stop saying that!” Zenobia snapped. “You’re not stupid! Stupid people don’t make it into prestigious academies on scholarships! Stupid people don’t become Wizards!”
“Well,” Evermoore chuckled, defeated. Her bun had come undone, hair strewn about her face and shoulders. “Smart people don’t break their bones trying to attack people they find mildly annoying…”
Zenobia’s brow furrowed. On the one hand, she hadn’t appreciated getting shoved down a hill. On the other hand, she thought she deserved it.
Maybe it was just the angle of the sun, but Evermoore looked a little less perfect in the lighting. It wasn’t the bruises, or the broken glasses, or even her hair coming undone. But her stone-cold, angry face had washed away, and suddenly all she could see was a sad, insecure teen trying to prove herself. Maybe they weren’t such opposites…
“Do you know any healing spells?” Zenobia said, calmer. “What about teleportation?”
“None of the above,” Evermoore winced as she propped herself up against a nearby rock. “My spell book’s back in the stadium, anyways. I can’t cast much without it…”
“Okay… Alright… Well…” Zenobia looked around, her major academic flaw coming back to haunt her in the worst of moments, that of forgetting everything you know during the test, or in this case, when your teammate’s leg is broken, and you need to get help. She scanned the depths of her mind for something, just something that could help.
Everything she could think of was a worse idea than just waiting for someone to come and get them. Fireworks might alert the other competitors, but they could also set the trees around them on fire. A loud sound could also work as a distress signal, but it would also be a dinner call for any nearby carnivores. What to do? What to do?
Zenobia’s staff caught her eye. First and foremost was Evermoore’s injury – she’d need something to support it, so the bones didn’t move until they healed. The staff would work. She would just need to…
“What are you doing?” Evermoore asked. Zenobia had her staff on her knee about to break in half.
“Don’t worry,” Zenobia replied. “I can cast without it – it’s just for show, really.”
With an audible “snap,” the staff was split in two, the dragon tusk ivory still smooth where it had broken. Zenobia grabbed the now dirtied cloth that had once bound their ankles and created a makeshift splint along with the fragments of her staff.
“There we go,” Zenobia said nervously. “One less problem to scream about!”
Evermoore didn’t say anything in response. She just stared at her teammate, mouth agape.
“We should…” Zenobia exhaled. “We should probably get moving or something.”
“You’re supposed to stay put when you’re lost,” Evermoore mumbled. “Makes it easier to find you…”
“Yeah,” Zenobia lay in the grass beside Evermoore. “Yeah, you’re probably right…”
The duo had been sitting silently in that very spot for who knows how long – the sun had begun to set, and the stars above shining – before someone figured out where they had wandered off to. Both of their parents had realized their absence (a rarity for Zenobia) and contacted the event holders, who subsequently started a wide-scale search for the two missing girls. Turns out, having teens go missing at your event isn’t a good look for PR.
By then, Evermoore was starting to wonder if she’d have to walk back with a broken leg, and Zenobia had accepted that she’d be eaten by wolves. Fortunately, they were found, and Evermoore was dragged off to the Clerics to be healed.
Luckily, she was okay, nothing too serious. She did stay the night in the hospital, just in case. Heliot had left her to her own devices after realizing she wasn’t going to die, so Evermoore figured she’d be by herself for that time.
But surprisingly, a certain light-haired, pink-highlighted Sorceress paid her a visit.
“Hey,” they both said, nearly in unison. Zenobia stood at the foot of Evermoore’s bed awkwardly for a moment.
“Sorry I got you into this mess,” Zenobia commented.
“Why are you apologizing?” Evermoore asked. “I pushed you off a cliff!”
“It wasn’t a cliff… It was a hill. And besides, I was being an annoying jerk.”
“I don’t think jerks necessarily deserve to get pushed off of hills,” Evermoore laughed quietly. “But alright…”
There was another pause, a long stretch filled with nothing but silence. Then Evermoore spoke up.
“Why… Why did you break your staff for me?” she asked. “I thought it was brand new… or expensive, or something.”
“It’s just a staff,” Zenobia shrugged. “I can buy a new one. You can’t buy a new leg. At least, not a real one.”
“I’m sorry for shouting at you.” Evermoore sat up to try and be at eye level with her, though Zenobia was far taller than her even standing up. “You actually had some good ideas. We’ve just been handed a load of bad luck.”
“It’s fine, really.” Zenobia bent over the side of her bed. They still weren’t on the same level, but it was close enough. “I wasn’t paying attention. I didn’t wanna be there, so I just… Did what I did best. Messed around with good intentions and bad consequences.”
“I don’t blame you. Honestly, these competitions are way too stressful. Now that it’s over, I don’t think I will ever enter one again. Scholarship reward or not.”
“Honestly, I don’t think a scholarship could be useful to me,” Zenobia muttered. “I can’t study for the life of me. I’d get booted out of college in an instant. You, though? You’re practically the next Merlin. You’ll be in the history books as the smartest Wizardess, like, ever.”
“I guess…”
“You’ve gotta be kidding me! How many times do I have to say it! You’re literally so smart! I’m stupid. You’re not stupid!”
“You’re not stupid, either Zebby.”
“Zebby? Really?”
“Yeah, it’s what I call you behind your back. To be condescending.”
“Ah, so we’re now both annoying jerks.” Zenobia teased.
The girls shared a tired laugh.
There was no blue ribbon in the end. But what did that matter? It seemed like they had something better blooming.
