It was Vetyn’s second experience within the Fortune & Favours class, and she was already failing miserably.

Professor Jaen ordered the throng of students to allot a magical item from within The Bag O Wisdom, and to then perform its magical deed before the intrigued eyes of the class. All the artefacts were random, and none knew of the consequences of its valour.

Vetyn so happened to renew an artefact that was dull as withering bone.

“Next!” Professor Jaen roared.

Frederick stood and meekly wandered to the desk perched by the anterior of the classroom, hovering before the leather bound satchel for a scrutainusing beat. The chestnut lace tethered upon it unveiled itself on its own accord, blooming in welcome.

He stared within the void with a weary eye, wincing at the act of its kindness.

“Well, go on.” Professor Jaen implored, and Frederick chewed his lip.

The lads concern was agreeable.

The bag, although exposing its amicable compliance, was as renowned to play a foul game. The artefacts shrouded in the bag were brewed from all sorts of forgers. The intent graced upon each and all were ambiguous.

After a long breath, Frederick sank a hand into the bag, the frown upon his mug deepening.

The class melted to a withering silence, tracing all their classmates purposeful movements. He rummaged through the satchel, teeth biting into the flesh of his lip.

“It shouldn’t take this long,” A girl whispered. Professor Jaen narrowed her gaze, but to concur.

A sick beat later, the youth plucked out a scarlet orb. It’s blinding shimmer unfurled and swallowed the chamber, the echo of its thrum drumming upon the walls. Frederick gasped and stumbled back a step; a thunderous clap roaring thereafter. Jovial cheers harmonised with the cadence of the crowds bellow, a small and proud smile sewing upon Frederick’s quivering lips.

Vetyn was unamused.

When it was she whom must claim from the bag, all she had been gifted was grey dust. It had no sort of magical properties, lest one wished to make one sneeze.

“You’ll get it next time,” Aurora smiled sympathetically beside Vetyn, merely fueling the dull abashment assailing her gut.

“That bag is ridiculous,” Retorted the lass, adjusting the onyx scarf upon over a chin. “Having the gall to trick me.”

Aurora tittered. “Perhaps you need to concentrate more on what you want?”

Vetyn sniped her a glare.

“Or not.”

(Tbc!)