The next morning, Charlotte was woken up by the sound of someone entering her room. Life in a Grimm-infested forest had turned her into a very light sleeper, and it wasn't something she could just turn off.
The one who'd woken her up was the bird-faunus nurse from yesterday, and as she snapped awake, the woman almost dropped whatever she was holding to the ground.
"Oh my! You gave me quite a scare, dear."
Charlotte shrugged in reply and sent a pointed look at the object in the nurse's hands.
"What are those for?" She whispered, her voice still coming out hoarse and still hurting her.
"Well, the Headmaster of Beacon is coming around again today, and I thought you might want to clean yourself up before he arrived."
She considered the nurse's proposal for a bit. She was planning on asking Ozpin to accept her into his academy and her looking less like a dirt-covered orphan would probably help her in convincing him that she was a worthwhile student.
She looked at the nurse and nodded, and the woman clapped her hands together in delight.
"Alright then! We'll start with your nails."
The woman sat down on the edge of her bed and took one of her hands in hers before slipping one of her nails in between the blades of the clippers. The warmth of the nurse's hand felt nice, and she enjoyed the sensation of someone touching her. Then the blades of the clippers bit into her nails, and she hissed at the nurse and almost pushed her off the bed.
The nurse looked very surprised and remorseful as she looked at her. "Do your nails hurt when I cut them, dear?"
She looked at the nurse with a venomous glare. What did she mean, 'did they hurt'?! Of course they hurt!
"Feels like worms trying to dig into the flesh under the nails."
The nurse winced and looked at her with pity.
"Do you want me to stop?"
She felt annoyed at the look of pity the nurse was sending her, and she wanted it to stop. She wasn't some child who couldn't bear the discomfort.
"No." Her anger allowed her to get the word out with force and sharpness, without having to bother pre-shaping the sound before saying it.
The nurse looked like she was going to say something, but a scathing look from Charlotte shut her up. She wasn't some child who needed a lot of comforting and needling to do something she was uncomfortable with.
"Well, you certainly don't need any babying." The nurse said, and Charlotte nodded with a serious expression, grateful the nurse understood her.
The nurse continued cutting Charlotte's nails, all while she squirmed and bit her tongue to keep herself from showing how uncomfortable she was. The nurse cut the nails on her feet as well, and she had to grip her feet with her hands so she didn't kick the nurse away.
Once they were done, her hands felt strangely light and less...sharp, for the lack of a better word. She felt like she'd been declawed somehow or someone had stolen something from her.
While she was spacing out, the nurse started to talk, and after she was done she touched her shoulder. Charlotte swatted the offending hand. While her concussion-addled brain had allowed the nurse to push her down yesterday, now she would be having none of it.
"No touching." She growled out.
"Oh! I'm terribly sorry, dear. I didn't mean to upset you."
In the nurse's defense, she did seem sorry, so Charlotte decided to let it go.
"You just seemed to be spaced out, so I just wanted to get your attention. I was asking you if you wanted to take a bath."
Charlotte nodded, and the nurse lit up again.
"The showers are at the end of the hall. Let's get going, then."
She slid off the bed and followed the nurse out of the door and into the hallway.
It was very white. White tile floors, a white ceiling, and the walls were white as well. Thankfully, the walls also had colorful artwork and a band of black running through it to distract her from all the white surrounding her, so she wasn't too overwhelmed.
As they walked down the hallway, they saw other nurses and doctors hurrying along, and she felt strangely shy as most of them looked at her mandibles and spider-eyes with slight frowns or contemplation. One doctor even sneered at her, and the nurse asked her quietly to walk faster as soon as she saw him.
Charlotte's spider eyes caught the doctor continuing to glare at them for a long time after they passed him, muttering something under his breath before storming off.
After a couple more minutes of walking and passing a lot of empty and full rooms, they reached a lone pale blue door at the end of the hallway, which opened up into a communal bathroom. There were a bunch of sinks against a mirror opposite a couple of rooms made of wood at the front of the room, and at the back, there were a bunch of showerheads, each surrounded by a separate white-tinted glass box. The room was painted a glossy blue paired with white.
The nurse pulled out a towel from somewhere on her person and thrust it into her hands.
"I trust you know how to work the shower?"
Charlotte nodded, despite being really unsure of how to use the showers. It'd been so long since she'd even seen a shower, let alone used one, but she didn't want to seem too clingy. If she was clueless, she would have asked the nurse, but she wasn't completely clueless. She had vague memories of using showers and that would be enough to figure things out. She was already growing to be a burden on the kind woman, and she didn't want that.
"Great! Here's a new bar of soap and a bottle of shampoo." The nurse pulled the mentioned items out from her pockets before turning to walk away.
"Well then, I'm off to get you some clothes. I'll be back in just a bit, so there's no need for you to worry."
Before she could summon the courage to tell the nurse to stay, she had left, and Charlotte was left standing in the now strangely echoey bathroom which smelled of something sharp, sour, and artificial.
Sighing, she stepped into the glass box and got to work. First, she needed to get her clothes off, which wasn't as easy as she'd thought. The gown she was in was easy enough to rip off and throw at the corner of the shower, but the little plastic circle on her wrist was different. She tried to get it off without damaging it, but in the end, her frustration won and she just tore it off her arm.
Her undergarments were the same. She'd grown out of her undergarments in the forest, and she was surprised when she woke up with a pair on. Even though it had just been a day, they stuck to her skin, the grime and dirt on her adhering the fabric to her. Same as with the plastic circle, she simply tore them off her, unwilling to deal with the damnable clasp or the stretchy fabric that clung to her stubbornly.
She expected turning on the shower would be easy, but she should have known better. She turned the strange lever on the wall to the left, but that did nothing. She moved it to the right, and when that didn't do anything as well, she let out a growl of frustration and punched the lever, causing it to dent and bend slightly to the side.
This was proving more troublesome than she anticipated.
By the time the nurse came back, she had managed to get the water flowing by lifting the lever upwards, but she'd scalded herself after too hot water hit her in the face. Then she'd broken the lever in a fit of rage after she'd been burnt, and water began to pour out of the showerhead with no sign of stopping. She managed to stop the water by fiddling with the stuff under the lever, but by that point, she had scalded herself plenty.
By the time the nurse came back, she had finished cleaning herself and drying herself off, and she looked terrible as a result of it. The shower she'd used hadn't fared any better. Her skin was an angry red because of the scalding hot water she'd forced herself to bathe in. The soap was half melted, and the shampoo had spilled everywhere because she didn't know how to get the bottle open, and had instead used brute force to tear the bottle into two.
She'd tried to clean everything up with water and her hospital gown, but had only succeded in making everything soapy. In the end, she hid the broken lever under a sink and covered the now exposed innards of it with her dirty gown before stepping out.
The nurse sighed as she saw Charlotte in her towel and then saw the carnage behind her. Well, at least she was now grime and dirt-free. While she hated to admit it, she now saw she needed help with even this, despite it being something she used to do daily a couple of years ago. She looked at the ground with shame.
"Well, I suppose you're at least clean now, dear." The nurse said, ignoring the carnage behind Charlotte and instead moving forward with a bundle of clothes in her arms.
The nurse helped her put on the clothes, and Charlotte let her face burning with shame. Once she was done putting everything on, the nurse tried to dry her damp hair with her towel, and Charlotte pushed her away and did the drying herself as they walked back to her room.
There was a stern-looking nurse in front of her room when they both arrived and her nurse quickly pushed Charlotte behind her as the stern nurse caught sight of them.
"Citrene, why is that girl still here?!" The other nurse shrieked.
The stern woman's shrill voice was grating, and Charlotte tensed up.
"She doesn't have a place to stay in town and she doesn't have any relatives. Headmaster Ozpin said he'd come back so she could ask him about her living situation and figure something out. I'm waiting for him." Her nurse meekly replied.
"Whether or not she has a place to stay is not our concern. Dr. Eurwen has written her a discharge order, and you've gotten her a pair of clothes from the cleck and made and updated her file. Our work is done."
"But we have a lot of free rooms and I don't see the harm in-"
"No buts." The woman commanded. "Walk her to the front, and then get back here immediately."
Charlotte tensed. She was supposed to meet Ozpin here. She didn't know where this 'front' was, but she didn't want to go there.
She walked out from behind the nurse and looked at the other woman. "I'm not leaving." She forced out.
The woman looked at her with contempt.
"Just like you to mooch off someone else if left unchecked." The woman muttered. What was that supposed to mean?
This isn't a hotel, girl, it is a hospital. After you get better, you're supposed to leave. Do you understand that?" Now she was talking to her very slowly and loudly, and she really didn't like that.
She stepped forward, fists clenched and teeth bared, ready to snap the woman's neck when the sight of Ozpin and his companion stopped her.
"I believe that Professor Ozpin made it clear that she was to stay until he or another representative from the school arrived to pick her up." Ozpin's companion spoke, and her voice was cold and stern, even more so than the nurse's.
The nurse faltered, then turned to the blond woman. "Yes, but we need the beds-"
"No, you do not. Do not try to justify this when you know fully well why you did it." Ozpin's companion replied.
Charlotte didn't understand what was going on, but the mean woman was growing angrier and angrier, which she liked.
"Now look here, I don't know what you're trying to insinuate, but I have done absolutely nothing against hospital policy. This is standard-"
"Those who defend themselves by twisting laws to justify their actions are usually in the wrong, I'm afraid," Ozpin replied, cutting the woman off.
Ozpin looked at her. "Well, Charlotte, it seems it is no longer prudent for you to stay here, given the nature of some of the people here. There is a wonderful park nearby. We can talk about your living arrangements and other things there. Shall we go there?"
She nodded, and Ozpin smiled. "Excellent."
She followed Ozpin and his companion, and her nurse rushed after them. They walked up to a pair of metal doors, and Ozpin pressed the button with his cane. The doors opened to reveal a small room which everyone walked into except for her.
"This is an elevator. It'll take us where we need to go. Step in, Miss Candesco."
She bit down on her fear and got it just before the doors closed. The lift didn't have the trademark sharp smell of the hospital, which meant that she was able to take in the scents of each of the people in the small enclosed space with her. Her nurse smelled like the hospital, Ozpin smelled like the drink he held in his mug, and his companion smelt of pine and freshly cut grass.
She left boxed in, unable to move too much or flee if anything went wrong. Then the room lurched, and her stomach felt like it was being pulled upwards. Her fear exploded, and the unease she felt became almost physical, crawling around on her skin as she felt her pulse quicken. The nurse placed a hand on her shoulder, and the contact calmed her down a bit even as she felt a need to snap at the woman to unhand her.
Finally, after what seemed to be an eternity, the lurching stopped, and the doors opened. She rushed out, uncaring of how it looked, and then took one long deep breath to compose herself.
She turned back to see if anyone had noticed her fear, but all of the people in the lift were looking pointedly away from her.
She stood up straighter and began to walk forward, and they quickly followed her and overtook her, guiding her towards the exit.
The elevator opened up near the exit, and soon enough, they were in a large room with a giant table in the middle that ended in a pair of glass doors. As they walked to the doors, the people milling about in the halls stared openly at their little group, and many people sitting in the waiting chairs next the the table got up as Ozpin passed by them.
As they neared the doors, Ozpin stopped and looked at the nurse, who in turn looked at Charlotte.
"Well dear, this is as far as I can come with you. Take care of yourself for me, will you? And if you have any questions about the city or anything else, you can give me a call. Here's my scroll ID."
The nurse handed her a scrap of paper with a bunch of numbers on it, before smiling at her and turning away.
As the woman walked away, Charlotte felt the need to say something to her to thank her despite her not wanting to, and so she swallowed down her fear and spoke her mind.
"Thank you."
The nurse turned back and smiled at her, and it was one of the brightest smiles she'd ever seen. The woman walked off with a noticeable bounce in her step.
"It is always a pleasure to meet someone who enjoys what they do," Ozpin remarked. "Come along, now. We're running a bit late."
Ozpin walked up to the doors, and they opened by themselves, as if by magic. He beckoned for her to follow him, and she did, and she caught her first glimpse of Vale.
It was...unreal. The buildings towered over her, and everything seemed so vibrant. The buildings ranged from red and brown to grey and white, and all of them had trees and metal posts in front of them. Benches were scattered all around, and people were leisurely walking along the paths chatting away with each other and eating things on sticks. The buildings and roads kept going and going and going as far as the eye could see. How large was it?
The city had its own sounds as well. Things blared and honked and she could hear murmured conversations and muffled yelling from something loud. The sounds irritated her and fascinated her in equal measure.
A breeze blew in from the east, and she caught hints of salt and burnt stuff in it.
It was all so overwhelming and harsh, and her eyes and ears bombarded her with so much information that it all began to blend into one another. It was wonderful.
"So, Miss Candesco, what do you think of our fair city?" Ozpin asked.
"It's good." She replied, unable to expand on her thoughts further.
The man smiled and walked on, his companion and Charlotte following him. They walked through the streets until they came upon a large iron gate in the middle of a low brick wall. Ozpin walked through, and then they were in the park.
The park reminded her of a forest with fewer trees and no Grimm. It was blindingly green, and people lazed about on the soft-looking grass with food next to them on blankets. Children ran around, screaming at each other while they played tag. She stared at them like in a way only someone who hadn't seen any children in years could.
Ozpin took a seat on a bench and patted the space next to him. She crashed into it, and once she'd taken her seat, the Headmaster nodded at his companion, who turned her head away from them, keeping watch.
"So, Miss Candesco, I trust you've given my question from yesterday some thought?"
She nodded.
"I want to be a huntress."
Opzin was silent for a while.
"Do you believe in fate, Miss Candeso?"
She didn't know how to reply to that, but Ozpin continued talking anyway.
"When you've lived as long as I have, you see hints of it from time to time. The right people meet each other by chance, people stumble onto situations that require their specific talents to resolve, and those in need find willing defenders because they share history without knowing it. You wanting to become a huntress sounds very much like one of those cases. Do you find your situation strange?"
She thought about it, then shook her head. "I don't care. I'm where I need to be, and that's enough."
Ozpin chuckled. "That's a nice way of putting things. Even still, if you had shown up even a day later than you did, you would have missed the combat exams for the students who didn't attend any combat schools. But because you're here now, you've been given a choice. In a way, it seems you are at a crossroads. If you take the exam today and pass, I will make sure that you can attend Beacon. If you do not wish to take it, the opportunity to become a huntress will pass you by, and you can live a normal, peaceful life. So, I will ask you again-are you sure you want to be a huntress?"
Charlotte tilted her head at that. Ozpin did seem like he wanted a simple yes as an answer this time.
"I-" She paused as her voice cracked.
"It's like you said." She finally spat out. "Fate. It made me good at killing Grimm, so doing anything else would be a waste. And I don't think I can do anything else. I don't know anything other than killing Grimm and farming, I've forgotten most of my farming."
She remembered being beaten by those two boys, and her struggles with the shower today. She remembered Sky, and his unwavering desire to become a Huntsman and protect them all. She remembered the fact that her old dream was nothing but a bitter memory now and gave Ozpin the answer he wanted.
"I need to learn back the things I've forgotten, I need to learn new things, and I need a new purpose. You can give me all three."
Ozpin hummed in acceptance. "A good answer. Very well then."
His companion walked up to them. "This is Goodwitch. She'll be taking you to the exams, and give you a brief crash course on everything you need to know in the next four hours while I leave to take care of some business. Glynda, if you could?"
The woman, Glynda, turned towards her. "Get up, Miss Candesco. We don't have much time, and we have a lot to cover."
She nodded, confused as to what the woman was going to teach her. And what was a crash course? She already knew how to fight, and that was enough, right?
She, in fact, did not know how to fight. She looked up at Goodwitch with a look of pure loathing, and the woman smiled like she hadn't been torturing Charlotte for the last hour. Apparently, a crash course was just cramming years of knowledge in someone's skull in hours. She still didn't know why it was called a crash course, though.
But love or hate her, Charlotte did respect Goodwitch purely based on her strength and the number of things she knew. She did feel irritated and angry every time Goodwitch snapped at her, but he remembered what had happened in the hospital showers and calmed herself down. Better to ask for help and get it than make a mess of things later. She was weak in certain ways and was simply stealing Goodwitch's knowledge to fix herself. Framing it that way made her less embarrassed and more eager to learn.
They were in the empty firing range of some dust shop, whose old owner had nearly fainted when he'd seen Goodwitch and recognized her as Ozpin's second in command. He almost fainted again when Goodwitch asked to rent out his firing range so she could teach her.
In the three hours they'd been here, Goodwitch had taught her everything from weapon etiquette to parrying to dust use. Finally, after three hours of doing all that, Goodwitch was teaching her about aura, and an hour into their aura lesson, Charlotte hadn't learned to do anything new with it.
"Most of my students would have stopped focusing by now. Your persistence is admirable."
She grunted and turned to focus on the little rock dummy Goodwitch had made with her semblance.
"Can't afford not to." She replied.
The combat exam apparently tested four things. Fitness and agility, aura proficiency, and then two separate combat tests, one for Grimm and one for people.
She wasn't worried about the fitness test or the combat stuff too much. However, what did concern her was the aura proficiency test.
Apparently, in the fancy combat schools most Beacon applicants went to taught them how to do more with aura than just use it to protect themselves and make themselves stronger. To a huntsman, their aura was a tool that surpassed the usefulness of even dust, and it took years of training to master it.
According to Goodwitch, aura could be 'imbued' into strikes, making them stronger and giving them more range. It could also be used to make shockwaves and shields outside of one's body by 'channeling' it outward. It also enhanced the senses and sharpened them, allowing experienced hunters to never be snuck up on. And finally, you could use it to 'activate' dust, adding it to your weapon to add elemental effects to your strikes.
It all sounded amazing, but in reality, no matter how much she willed for it to happen, it didn't, meaning it was either insanely difficult or Goodwitch was lying to her.
"This isn't possible."
"Yes, it is, Miss Candesco. Keep at it."
She turned to the dummy once again, and as soon as she did, Goodwitch sighed.
"Simply starting at the dummy like it has personally offended you will not allow you to succeed, Miss Candesco. Your mind needs to be clear for this. Assume your combat stance."
She stood with her legs close together, flowing both the stone spears Goodwitch had made her opposite directions to try and dispel some of her angry tension.
"Now, imagine your aura imbuing your weapon. Picture your weapon as a part of yourself, but also picture it as an unbreakable tool, one meant to be by your side in combat, one that will aid you in defeating your enemies and protect your allies."
Pouring her aura into her weapons was second nature by this point, and so she did as Goodwitch asked.
"What did you visualize when you imbued your weapon with aura?"
The strange question caused her to lose her focus.
"Why do you need to know?"
Goodwitch sighed. "I am your teacher, Miss Candesco. It is my job to ask you such questions."
That sounded reasonable. "Just poured it into the weapon. Like water."
Goodwitch sighed. "A common beginner's mistake."
"A mistake? It activated the dust in various ways. How is this different?"
"Dust activation does not need any finesse. It only needs rudimentary control over one's aura. Simply pushing it into the dust is enough, even if it is not efficient. Imbuing your weapon with aura and using it to empower your strikes, on the other hand, is a technique that cannot be simply brute forced."
Goodwitch pulled her weapon out of its holster, extended it, and sliced the dummy's head off.
"Your aura is the manifestation of your soul. Many students make the mistake of thinking aura is a liquid. They think it flows through their bodies like blood. This is wrong. Your soul encompasses your entire body. It does not need to flow or move. It is metaphysical, and thus is not restricted by natural laws. You simply need to wish your weapon to be a vessel for your aura, and if you genuinely feel that your weapon is an adequate vessel, your aura will comply. There is no need to waste time by flowing your aura into things."
She nodded, and Goodwitch continued.
"The other problem you have is that you keep imagining your weapon as a vessel when you should be thinking of it as a conduit in order to channel it into your strikes. Do you know what a conduit is, Miss Candesco?"
Damn it, she did not. Her poor education was proving to be a constant weakness, and she didn't like it.
Goodwitch seemed to notice her self-loathing and stepped in to stop it.
"A vessel is something that holds something. A bucket could be a vessel for water, for example. On the other hand, a conduit is something that directs or provides a path for something to flow through. A pipe could be a conduit for water."
Didn't she just tell her that aura wasn't a liquid?
Goodwitch seemed to pick up on her thoughts.
"Visualisation is very important with aura, Miss Candesco. If you imagine it as flowing out of your weapon like water, all you will be doing is wasting your aura. You need to imagine the aura extending from your weapon in physical form in order to be able to extend the strikes of your weapon."
It was too complicated of an explanation to follow, but Charlotte was determined to give it a try anyway.
First, she imagined the grey of her soul superimposed over her weapons, fortifying them with aura. She felt her weapons attune themselves to her, and she flowed them in preparation for the next step.
Goodwitch had asked her to imagine the aura extending from her weapon in physical form. She didn't know how to even start imagining that, so she didn't try to. Instead, she imagined her weapon getting longer and heavier, allowing her to strike at the dummy and obliterate it.
Then she swung, and at the apex of her swing, her right spear hummed in her hand, and when the swing finished, a grey crescent tore itself free from it and crashed into the dummy, obliterating it.
"Good job." Goodwitch said a smile on her face.
She grunted in response, too winded to actually form a cohesive reply.
"I've taught you all I can in the time we have. The rest is up to you. Now come on, if we want to reach the venue on time, we need to get going immediately."
"I need to rest."
"You can rest when the exam is over, Ms. Candesco. Being punctual is very important." Goodwitch shot back.
She sighed. She was growing to like and hate teachers in equal measure.
Transport in Vale seemed to be determined to leave her disoriented and wanting to throw up. First, it was the elevator, and now it was this 'car'. Why did the people of Vale think it was a good idea to move people in a box with wheels and seats? They already had airships, so why were these 'cars' necessary?
Goodwitch laid a hand on her back and guided her towards the building that was going to be their exam venue, despite Charlotte growling at her to take her hand off her back.
She expected the venue to be a large plot of land or something. However, what she saw in front of her was admittedly not a plot of land. It was still very large though. So large that she could see the entirety of it without looking up. It was another reminder she was in the kingdoms, where they could afford to build something as large and useless as this.
"While the Mistral tournament is the most prestigious, Vale has its own tournament that's held once a year. And the government, being the vain idiots that they are, sunk an inordinate amount of money into the stadium in order to try and outdo all the other kingdoms. It is a waste of space for most of the year, but in times like these, it proves itself useful."
They entered the stadium through one of the doors on the sides, and Goodwitch quickly picked up the pace, leading her through the winding and twisting halls until they came to a small blue door.
"Wait here."
Charlotte nodded, and Goodwitch slipped into the room. The hallway was... eerily quiet. It was creepy if she was being honest. Sure a large space should have been filled with the sound of living things, and not quiet like it was some kind of stone tomb.
The door opened again, and Goodwitch stepped out of the room. She was followed by a short man with white hair and an impressive mustache, a twitchy man with green hair, and a dour-looking pink-haired woman.
"Ah, so this must be Charlotte! The last time I saw you you were looking much more-" Goodwitch glared at the mustached man, who coughed and stopped talking. Goodwitch had something in her hands.
"You can catch up with her later, Port. For now, Miss Candesco doesn't need you distracting her. Here, Miss Candesco. That case contains your weapons, which have been upgraded and modified so they can use dust."
She struggled with the metal buckles keeping the case closed, and Goodwitch had to snatch the case and open it for her to keep her from simply ripping the buckles off.
Inside, her old right-hand spear lay on something soft, and it looked more or less the same, scratches and all. There was a hole in the bottom for the cartridges of dust, but apart from that, it was more or less the same. The other weapon in the case, however, certainly wasn't hers.
It was a replica of her well-worn right-hand spear, but when she picked it up, she could barely tell it was in her hands. It was featherlight, and the blade was as thin as a hair and resembled a dagger more than the leaf shape of her other spear.
"This..." She began.
"Use them well, Miss Candesco. That is all we will ask of you. Now come along, we're going to be late."
She wordlessly followed the group of adults until they came upon a massive set of wooden doors that were already open. On the other side, people her age milled about, talking and staring at each other.
"It'll be better for you to go in first. We will follow after you after a couple of minutes to ensure that none of the applicants think we're biased or that we will favor you over the others." Goodwitch said.
Charlotte didn't understand why any of them would think that, but she nodded anyway and she strode into the hall, determined to get this over with. Immediately, every single pair of eyes turned toward her. The amount of noise and movement inside the hall overwhelmed her eyes and ears, and she froze for a second, taking it all in.
The first thing she noticed was that everyone was dressed very differently from her. People were wearing hunting cloaks, leather jackets, and even dresses. She, on the other hand, was in a hoodie and a pair of pants.
"Are you supposed to be here?"One of the boys closest to the door said, breaking her out of her trance. "We're all here for the Beacon combat exams. No offense, but this is no place for someone like you."
"Yeah." The pink-haired boy next to him said. "This isn't a white fang meeting or something, freak. Scram."
She grit her teeth, the sensation of being overwhelmed forgotten because of her rising anger. She clenched her fists in anger for the second time that day, and the murmuring in the hall grew louder, irritating her like a swarm of bees buzzing in her ears. The boy moved to face her, and she could almost see the muscles in his arm tensing to prepare for a blow before he backed off, eyes not willing to meet hers. The reason for his sudden fear was Goodwitch, who her spider eyes saw glaring at the boy with restrained anger. The rest of the adults next to her seemed similarly angry or irritated at the boy.
Goodwitch strode up to the front of the room, and people parted for her without any prompting. She cleared her throat and began to talk.
Charlotte cleared her head of any anger and instead focused on the very important task in front of her. After all, the combat exam was about to begin, and much of her plans for the rest of her life were dependent on her passing.
"Good afternoon, applicants, and welcome to the Beacon combat exams."