Page 46 of The Amber Sunburst

There’s another problem, though. Lazarus might be the elected leader of the cohort, but he doesn’t lead socially. If his cohort makes it to the end, they might prefer someone else to become the Educator.

Zeno, for example, is universally adored. Nice to a fault and very genuine. Lazarus thinks Zeno would make a good Educator, though he doesn’t think Zeno thinks he would make a good Educator. Hopefully that lack of confidence will work against him.

Alexander is a wild card who’s had Lazarus shaking in his boots since the day he arrived. He is handsome, charismatic, and clearly smarter than he lets on. If he wanted to win the Trials, Lazarus is sure that he could.

But neither presents as terrifying an opponent as Kallias. People might not like him, but he’s unbelievably beautiful and far too intelligent for his own good. Also, well… Everyone knows that Lykos favors him. And what if Lykos’ wishes in terms of his successor affect the outcome of the Trials?

They wouldn’t rig the Trials, though. That’s dishonorable.

Lazarus checks his ring. Two minutes until the meeting.

He locks his knees to stop himself from pacing the room. He needs to seem relaxed.

Oh, today is the first cohort meeting? I had no idea!

When the meeting time arrives, no one has appeared. Thirty seconds pass before ‘relaxed’ turns to frantic hysteria.

He’s so predictable.

So he occupies himself with drawing trackers and charts on the board, and all he can hear for a long while is the scratching of chalk.

When he finally turns around, he finds everyone somehow already in their seats. They stare at him silently, probably disturbed by his complete lack of awareness.

Damn it, Lazarus.

“Hi, everyone.”

No response.

Forms, he’s so dumb. He’s not equipped for this. He’s going to fail. He can’t lead. He can’t even get people to say ‘hi’ to him!

“Hi, Lazarus,” the cohort echoes back to him.

How long was it between his ‘hi’ and everyone else’s? Did he manage to freak out that much in two seconds?

Forms, he has to get his shit together. All together. In a pile. A shit pile.

Deep breath in, deep breath out.

Shit pile.

“Okay, so. Obviously we don’t have the Trial theme yet, which means there’s no saying what’s coming in three weeks. But, for now, we’ve been granted the opportunity to discuss the Trials in an official capacity as a team.

“I know that people often form their own outer-cohort alliances, but I urge you to stay loyal to your peers in this room. We have the best chance of moving on if we stick together.”

He sounds so formal. Definitely not likeable. But didn’t he decide that he wasn’t capable of being likeable?

“Today is the time to lay down the groundwork for a powerful team before the Trials begin. So, I’ve split the meeting into three different sections. First, hypothesizing possible challenges for the first Trial. Second, composing a chart of our individual strengths and weaknesses so that we can compensate for each other. Third, evaluating possible pairings for Trial Two, the duo challenge. The Guardians usually pick someone they know we have a rapport with, but we should all be comfortable working with each other one-on-one. Any questions?”

Kleitos’ hand shoots up, and Lazarus is definitely in for it, isn’t he?

“Who says you’re the boss? You just, what, showed up early and decided that you’re the leader?”

Lazarus’ mouth opens, but no sound comes out because what is he meant to say to that?

“We elected him,” Zeno replies for him. “Seven years ago, I think.”

“Yeah, when we were fifteen,” Kleitos spits. “That doesn’t mean he can strut around like a peacock running the show.”