Mogtober 2022!

14: Headcannons

Wow, okay, first, I'm very sorry that I haven't updated in so long. I was really busy with my  studies and  an unfortunate personal matter that I won't go into depth about, and I just didn't have time for this. I'm still quite busy, but I'm going to try and work on it a bit more.

This part will be published even although it is incomplete, because I forgot what I was writing and even reading it over, I had trouble recalling my plan for it. I looked through my file, and I found the plan, but only half of it. So I have no plan for this chapter, or any of the following chapters, and although I didn't have much of a plan anyway (about a sentence for each chapter), I now have pretty much nothing to go on. 

I will still do the next few chapters, but they might be a little bit not-up-to-standard because they're all going to be fresh ideas that I haven't really thought about or brushed up to fix plotholes, etc, etc.

Anyway, enjoy!

Headcannons of a few different things, because I didn't really know what to do for this one.

The Book Trial (apart from Morrigan, because we know what happened in her book trial anyway.)

Hawthorne: 

Hawthorne craned his neck to try and get a glimpse of Morrigan as the Wunsoc official gave him a nudge to his seat. Was that Morrigan's head a few hundred rows back? No, that definately wasn't Morrigan. Morrigan would never wear something that wasn't black. With a sigh, he sat down and picked up his pencil.

Hawthorne Swift. His booklet read; you could easily have a great life elsewhere. Why the Wundrous Society?

Hawthorne blinked. He hadn't expected this. He frowned for a moment, before a smile spread across his face and he scrawled across the page, Because I want to create mischief without having to worry about the consequences.

The book fluttered its pages slightly, Correct. Why do you like dragons so much? Hawthorne dropped his pencil and it clattered to the ground. A wunsoc official gave him a look as he picked it up off the floor. Hawthorne didn't really know how to answer this. It was like asking a cat lover why they think kittens or cute or asking a child why it likes chocolate so much. Nevertheless, he had to answer it somehow, so he wrote the first thing that came to mind. Because I like to feel power over ancient beasts that could kill me in seconds if they wanted to, but don't because of my confidence around them. Hawthorne yelped and jumped back in his seat as his book burst into flame, earning himself a furious glare from the irritable official. 

No, no, no! The book wrote. You aren't power hungry. What is the real reason?

Hawthorne stuck his hand through the flames (silently thanking his lucky stars that he had dragon riding after this, so was already dressed in his fireproof dragon riding gear) and wrote I like the adrenaline rush of being in the air on the back of a dragon

The book stopped burning and white flooded back into the pages, restoring them to their original clean pristine condition. 

And if you had a chance, who would you share that adrenaline rush with?

Hawthorne grinned. Easiest question he'd ever had. I'd share it with everyone I know. And to his delight, he was met with a four letter word in green.  PASS.

Cadence:

Book trial? No thank you, wunsoc, Cadence thought as her piercing dark eyes glared into the Wunsoc official's. "I have completed and passed my book trial." She said in her lowest, huskiest voice. "So, you'll remove my test paper from the table and show me into the waiting room to see the elders."

The wunsoc official glared straight back. "Who do you think you are, you beastly little liar?!"

Cadence kept her eye contact with him and repeated herself, pronouncing every syllable with painstaking authority, and got her prize. The official's piercing blue eyes glazed over and became dreamlike as he picked up Cadence's booklet, gave it to her and escorted her into a side room.

Peace at last, Cadence thought to herself, and settled down on one of the long benches in the waiting area for the next part of the test, but to her fury, she was interrupted by two twin boys noisily barging their way through the door. Gritting her teeth, she decided she'd try and put up with it. She'd already mesmerized one person, was it worth two more as well? The more she mesmerized, the more likely she was to get caught... she made her mind up. When she got too frustrated with the boys, she'd send them crying back to their patrons like the spoilt little brats they were.

Mahir: (I decided to write this in French then put translations underneath it to emphasize his knack. If you can't read French, just read the translations.)

Translation: Mahir Ibraham's pencil wobbled above the paper where words in his favourite (and first) language were forming. Mahir Ibraham. You speak many languages, yet there is still so much to learn. Why bother pursuing language when you could make millions with the ones you know?

Mahir's brow furrowed. Did every candidate's booklet ask them personal questions? 

Because I enjoy learning languages and it's something I'm good at.

Incorrect. That may be an underlying reason but isn't the main reason.

The book started smoking ominously and Mahir cursed under his breath. This wasn't fair! He'd studied ever since he had found out he had the book trial first! Surely they didn't expect him to be prepared for this!