Madeline spent the next thirty minutes answering questions. Some questions were mundane (tell us about a time you displayed great courage?); others bordered on ridiculous (would you rather be extremely hot or extremely cold and why?); and more still were surely intended to knock her off balance (it’s three o’clock in the morning and you see a classmate out at an adults-only establishment, do you tell your affinity Leader?).
Question after question rattled around in her brain while Ruthann escorted her to another room deeper inside the stone building. Whereas entering the castle, Madeline was on guard, defiant even, now she mindlessly followed the elder Ruthann. This was the hard part. All her preparation, all her slavish effort was now for an event in the past. Her future was unknown.
Did she do enough? Would she get an offer? If she did, would it be from the Death affinity? Would entrance into the Academy be worthwhile if she only had offers from other affinities?
Ruthann’s shoes clicked on the stone walkway as they twisted deeper into the castle. The heat from the interview room had been enough to make Madeline sweat and the first thing she did when she exited the interview was wipe away pooling beads on her temples. Her makeup didn’t run, however, which boosted her pride. Yes, she was impersonating a Grinnrocker and yes she’d done it well.
Her thoughts floated to Talia. Talia would be in a different room with different interviewers but undoubtedly the questions and difficulty level would be similar. Talia, the daughter of a Storm Sorcerer and Sorceress, still had to pass the same tests. How would her lineage influence the difficulty level of interviews? Would the affinity representatives be easier because of Talia’s legacy status or would they be more intense to allay accusations of favouritism?
Then her mind drifted to that white haired, blue eyed-,.
Why would she be thinking of ?
Ruthann stopped outside the next room, this one much the same on the outside as the last one, right down to the archway. Ruthann stopped between Madeline and the wooden door to issue a warning. “There is nobody on the other side of the door,” she advised in her stern way. “You are to walk to the center of the room and insert your hands into the device. The device will grab you. Do not be alarmed. Once the device lets go, you will wait.”
“Wait until?”
Ruthann pointedly ignored her question. “Go on inside now, we have plenty more to get through still today.”
Then the older woman stepped aside and Madeline understood no further information would be provided. She opened and stepped into the next room.
As Ruthann warned, the only thing inside the square room beside Madeline was the device. Nothing lined the walls as if to emphasize the room's singular purpose. An identical wooden door as the one she’d just walked through split the wall on the opposite end. The coldness of this room marked a stark change from the previous one, neither crackling fire nor body heat warmed her.
Despite all Madeline’s research, nothing could have prepared her for the imposing presence of the circular device in the center of the room. It had angled sides, about half the height of Madeline, with only a small lowered insert for a human to step into to break its symmetry. The raised platform in its center beckoned to her, taunting her.
The device itself looked well worn, made of a dulled metal as opposed to the stonework prevalent in the rest of the castle. There were dents, scuffs, and scratches despite the rigorous cleaning it must have undergone.
The problem of the design, as far as Madeline could see, lay with the hand-holds. In order to insert her hands in the device she’d have to stretch. The hand-holds were on polar opposite sides of the device, one gaping insert on either side.
Her hands would be covered.
Inserted into the unknown.
Madeline held her head high and approached the center of the room. She stepped steadily onto the platform then squatted to try and peer inside the hand-holds. Only darkness stared back.
She placed the fingertips of her left hand against the hole. She felt no different. No surge of power, no electroshock, no warmth nor cold. Just…metal. She inched her fingertips further inside. Again, no difference in what she felt or what she saw. She took a deep breath and placed her left hand in.
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Nothing happened.
Maybe she had to insert both hands at once? She positioned herself on the center of the platform and bent over slightly, reaching with her right hand to the other hand-hold. Those fingertips brushed the outside of the hole.
She bent over more, allowing a frustrated grunt as she stretched as far as her arms would go.
“What the-,” she grunted out, reaching, extending the final few inches.
She gasped.
The device trapped her hands with a vile clicking sound, adjusting its position so Madeline no longer had to bend over. She took a deep breath. She couldn’t move her hands. They were locked. She couldn’t even wiggle her fingertips. The absence of pain was the only thing that stilled the racing of her heart.
Madeline heard the words in her head and struggled against her restraints. What the fuck was happening?
What was that? Someone took control of her brain? A voice from the void? The voice only succeeded in making Madeline struggle more. She pulled, yanked and twisted but moved not an inch.
“Who or what the fuck are you?” She cursed.
Madeline briefly thought about yelling for help. She did a breathing exercise, inhaling then exhaling and thought better of it. If this was part of the entry process then she could surrender control for the moment. She could.
The logic part of her brain took over. This must be the device speaking. Considering the timing of the voice’s appearance, it could be nothing else.
Puzzling out the logic didn’t ease her nerves. She repeated her breathing exercise. A deep breath of air filled her lungs then exhaled past her lips again.
“Do I have to speak out loud for you to hear me?” She felt a fool for even asking such a question to a voice inside her head.
Madeline ground her teeth but complied.
Madeline wasn’t about to be lectured by a device without a face. “That’s none of your business,” she thought back. Her face blanched when she realized the thing said it remembered. “Uh, you’re not going to say anything, are you?”
Her boots pressed into the platform and she adjusted her shoulders. Extended time with her hands outstretched put a crick in her neck.
It took effort, but she bit back the reply that formed.
“Please, I need to gain acceptance,” Madeline thought to the device, bordering on pleading with it.
“Let me try.”
The voice seemed to be genuinely conflicted about what to do with her.
“Please tell no-one what you’ve seen, it would destroy me."
Madeline didn’t know what to make of that. She supposed it would have to be good enough for now.
Madeline ground her teeth again.
Ignoring the voice was impossible. How could she tune out its rambling deliberations when it was doing them inside her head? Madeline closed her eyes and tried to focus on anything else.
“I’m not going to burn the place to ashes,” Madeline thought flatly. “You are being dramatic.”
Abruptly, the device released her hands and wrists. Madeline rubbed the unblemished skin, feeling like there should be a mark or some evidence of its touch on her.
“That’s it? No conversation? Tell me that I may literally or figuratively burn the Academy down, refuse to elaborate then eject me? I can see why you have so many fucking dents!”
Madeline raged, taking out the days frustration on the metal with a swift kick that only succeeded in bruising her toes. In time and with effort, she calmed down.
The only direction she’d received from Ruthann was ‘wait’, so Madeline waited. She’d heard of patience tests, where the actual test had to do with how long the person being tested could remain in the area. She was in no mood.
Once she collected herself, Madeline waited patiently, refusing to even lean. No chair was provided, so she simply stood with her hands crossed over her stomach and waited.
She waited until the door opposite of her entryway opened, inviting her to begin the next test.

