XXXIII ※ Of Gravity & Fox-Fueled Fury: Pairing Chaos and Power Plays

Pride-Niklaus's Point of View

♕︎ ♕︎ ♕︎

The familiar surge of irritation flared up in me as I watched that damn fox, Loki, smugly standing there. Without anyone noticing, I let my fingers twitch slightly, and with a quiet hum of magic, I manipulated the gravity around him. My magic, subtle and efficient, dragged him from the floor to the ceiling and back again, again, and again. I kept him in the air, sending him rocketing up and down like a ragdoll, his body bouncing off the invisible force with a sickening thud each time. 

He yelped and squirmed, desperate, and I found some satisfaction in watching his discomfort, though it was fleeting. He was pathetic. It was amusing to see someone so smug become so helpless, but I knew I couldn't keep it up for too long without drawing attention. Still, I had the advantage. I wasn't breaking any rules, and there were seventeen other gravity users around, including Scarlet and Dove. As long as I kept it subtle, no one would notice. At least, not yet.

"Ouch, babe, your love hurts," Loki's voice rang out, dripping with sarcasm, but there was a quiet hiss of pain that betrayed his bravado. That insane bastard.

I couldn't stop myself from smirking. If nothing else, I had succeeded in throwing him off balance—both physically and mentally. I had to admit, it was a small victory in an otherwise dull day.

"So, how will this work, headmasters?" My sister's voice broke the tension, her words laced with a hint of unease. I could hear the underlying pride in her tone, though, despite her obvious discomfort. She was always unpredictable, fiery in the most volatile way. "I have no desire to pair up with that slutty fox," she added, the words dripping with disdain. I could see the disgust on her face, and I knew it was only growing. She wasn't one to hold back when it came to her feelings, and Loki was an easy target for her irritation.

"Neither do I," I muttered in agreement, unable to hide my own disgust. I had no intention of being paired with that idiot either, though I didn't voice what I truly wanted out loud. It was too dangerous, too complicated. But I couldn't help but hope that I'd end up with my sister—at least that would make the whole ordeal bearable. It would be far better than being stuck with Loki, or worse, anyone else in this room. "Let's hope I end up with my sister."

The words lingered in the air between us, unspoken but undeniable. There was so much more I wished I could say, but I knew better than to reveal too much. It was one of those things that was better left unsaid.

"If I'm lucky, I'll go with Dora," Atlas suddenly chimed in, his tone firm and unwavering, as always. The boy had confidence in spades. He was the one who seemed to always have everything figured out, who thought ahead and calculated every move. His words had a ring of finality to them, but I could sense that it was more a matter of hope than certainty.

"No. I will," Apollo, his twin, interjected almost immediately, pushing Atlas lightly with an exaggerated grunt. It was clear that Apollo was more interested in staking his claim over the girl than anything else. The playful rivalry between the two of them was something I'd seen a hundred times before, but it never got old. Their sibling dynamic always made things interesting, and in moments like this, it was clear that they had no intention of backing down.

"I'm the unlucky one then," Dora growled in frustration, her voice barely above a whisper but full of annoyance. She clearly wasn't thrilled about being paired with anyone at all. I could see the grimace on her face and knew exactly what she was thinking—this whole pairing process was an absolute waste of time. "Shite," she muttered, her frustration seeping through every syllable.

Dora's hands clenched into fists, her fingers digging into the fabric of her clothes as her irritation built. I watched her closely as she covered her face with her hands, her long crimson red curls cascading down her shoulders and framing her face in soft waves. The sight of her, so frustrated and yet so captivating, was almost surreal. Despite her vexation, there was something magnetic about the way she carried herself—like a storm waiting to happen.

"As you all seem so excited," Diana's voice rang out, cutting through the murmurs in the room. She wasn't one to shy away from the attention. With a wave of her hand, she summoned her spatial primordial magic, making two crystal boxes materialize before us. One was small, glowing faintly, with only six names inside—our names. The other was much larger, its light flickering like distant stars, and contained the names of the forty-seven other students in the room. The sheer contrast between the two boxes made the situation feel heavier, the weight of it almost suffocating.

"Wait!" Scarlet suddenly gasped, her eyes wide with realization. "47 isn't even. One person will be left alone. That doesn't sound so fair now, does it?" She was quick, sharp-eyed as always, noticing every little flaw. Of course, she would point it out—if I'd been the one to notice, I'd have said the same.

"The remaining person will make a trio with the last duo," Samuel's voice rang out, his tone as casual as ever. He leaned against the wall, a faint smile playing on his lips. "You ain't getting out of this, Persephone. Fighting against it is fruitless, sweetheart," he said, his words dripping with that knowing amusement that only he and Diana seemed to possess.

Scarlet shot him a look, her expression one of utter disdain, though she couldn't hide the frustration in her eyes. "Oh, I know," she muttered, clearly unimpressed. "Lucky me."

Samuel's grin widened at her response, clearly entertained. "Now, let's get over with this," he continued, his enthusiasm impossible to miss. "After everyone is chosen, your seats will be changed. There are fifty-three seats in class, and they're numbered. The duos will be seated according to the highest number of each pair. If 7 pairs with 42, 42 will sit where 7 was supposed to sit."

It was simple enough to follow, but I couldn't deny that the idea of sitting next to Scarlet was more appealing than any other outcome. It would be perfect, really. No matter how it worked out, at least I would be close to her. My sister, on the other hand, would probably end up near Adeline, and knowing her, that was probably for the best. The two of them always seemed to have their own world, and Adeline would enjoy being near her.

"Each roll has about six seats," Diana continued, her voice laced with excitement, clearly relishing every moment of the suspense. "The top three will all sit in the front row, and then we'll work our way backward from there."

She moved both boxes simultaneously, shaking them slightly so the names inside would mix. The rattling noise was oddly satisfying, and the tension in the room grew thicker with each second that passed. "Let's start," she said, turning toward Samuel, who was now standing off to the side, waiting for his cue. "You pick the balls. One at a time. I like the suspense."

Scarlet groaned, clearly tired of the drama. "You like to see us miserable," she muttered, her voice low but filled with irritation.

"You'll thank us later, sweetheart," Samuel giggled, his voice filled with the usual mischievous energy, though Scarlet's scowl was evident. It was clear she wasn't having any of it.

"Let's start with the top three," Samuel said, still grinning like a fool. "All students, get up with your things and move to the sides of the wall. We'll be magically seating you where you'll be assigned." His words were thick with theatrical drama—he lived for moments like this.

We all obeyed quickly. No one dared defy them—not unless they wanted to be on the receiving end of a god's wrath. Despite the annoyance that we all felt, we knew better than to challenge them. Diana and Samuel were more than capable of making life a living hell if they wanted to. I, for one, was glad I was one of their favorites—something Scarlet probably had no clue about. She had no idea that we were practically tied when it came to their affections. It was almost cute that she didn't realize.

And you know what else was cute? Watching her stand up, the shortest person in the room, while I towered over everyone. The way she glared around, clearly frustrated at her stature compared to the rest of us, was almost too satisfying.

"First ball," Diana's voice rang out, cutting through the tension in the air.

Samuel reached into the box and pulled out the first ball, holding it up for everyone to see. "Loki Vilhelm Aaberg!" he called out, and the room groaned in unison. This was just the beginning.