Being thrust headfirst into danger seems exactly like the sort of thing to put the youngest student in, he mused. However, despite his apprehension, excitement compiled within him. The basic theory of countermagic was something he'd learned in his foundational instruction. Now, he had to prove himself deserving of the advancement he was given.
I didn't ask for this, but damn it if I'm going back for another year of 'basic instruction,' he insisted. While the Gioran boy mused, he senses a shiver in the field before him. The Anaxan boy in front of him held himself straight, and his lips quivered with the utterance of Monite. Cassius' countenance was marred with dislike, and the single syllable uttered was very much not the hydrosmosis that was requested of him. The shiver of the mona was undeniable, and immediately, Eirik raised his hands. He uttered the appropriate counterspell and yet... The mona around him wavered. The flames began to encompass Eirik's shoulder, blistering heat immediately singing his skin.
Eirik yelled out, pushing back on his heels and throwing himself to the ground. He rolled on the floor, dirt staining his thick coat and rolling onto the thick, padded pants he wore. The fabric was ruined, his arm pink and shiny, the hairs frazzled as the damage was done immediately. The professor began to step in, however, Eirik had other plans. He breached into the mona before him, his lips pursed before a Monite snarl escaped his lips. The mona lashed forth, and immediately, a heavy chill poured shivers down the arrogant Anaxian's spine. Frost began to gather along his tongue, cracking at his skin before the tendrils of ice formed along his eyebrows. Immediately, he fell to the earth, shivering violently. The professor, who'd been making his way towards Eirik, immediately changed in direction. He ran towards Cassius, leaving the shivering and disgruntled Eirik to his own devices. Dublin Phore immediately reversed the effects of Eirik's spell, then sent two students to escort Cassius to the infirmary.
"This was a bad idea. Class is dismissed! You, Eirik, come with me."
Eirik shrugged his shoulders, a hiss escaping him as he obliged the professor. He too was escorted to the hospital wing, but separated from Cassius. The galdor attendant began weaving Living mona, and though the hairs on his arm were beyond repair, the child (who'd begun to wince from the pain of his burns after an adrenaline response faded away) felt his arm and shoulder soothe with a pleasant, humming sensation. The pink flesh gradually cooled, and the Gioran looked to his instructor, expecting a verbal lashing.
"You didn't perform the counterspell correctly... And yet, you created frostbite? What are you hiding from us, Eirik?"
The galdor shrugged his shoulders again, and noticed the grimoire in his instructor's hand, brought with him.
"You know already, don't you? It's right in your hands. I've... been studying... a lot."
"Clearly. This is... unexpected. We might need to recommend you to Professor Sonfield for more advanced lessons."
Oh?