Dicey Grades and Deadly Doubts
I returned straight to the dorm after the exam. Right after it ended, they handed out the answer sheets, so I started self-grading. Out of 29 questions, I'd solved 17. The remaining 12, I'd rolled Baron Samedi's dice to guess on. Let's grade the ones I actually solved first. How many did I get right?
"One, two, three…."
I'd gotten 4 wrong in total. For someone who'd studied so sloppily, that wasn't half bad. Next, I graded the ones I'd guessed on with the dice. Honestly, I wasn't expecting much. As long as I didn't get them all wrong, I'd call it a win.
"…."
The results were shocking. Out of 12, I'd gotten a whopping 2 right! I might've scored higher just picking straight down the line. I'd thought Baron Samedi's dice had some special power, but bullshit—nothing at all. I hated Baron Samedi right now. Hated him like crazy….
I looked at the graded exam sheet. Rain was pouring down in buckets. Time to issue a flood warning.
"Dan Wedo, come out."
[This isn't… my fault… at all…!]
"Then whose fault is it?"
[Stupid… prophet….]
Dan Wedo, the Loa of rain, vanished after those words. I was a bit pissed, but she wasn't wrong. Divine Cosmology wasn't a subject I was confident in anyway, nor one I'd planned to study hard for. Still, seeing the results like this stung more than expected. If I'd just studied a little harder, would things have turned out differently? Regrets kept creeping in.
[Regretting it now is pointless. You didn't study, so of course you bombed the exam.]
"Yes, sir."
I gave a half-hearted reply to Legba's stuffy advice and opened my book. Tomorrow was the Divine Materials exam. Just like Divine Cosmology, I couldn't count on Legba's help, and it was one of my weakest subjects. To score even a little better, I had to study harder.
Even with that resolve, studying wasn't going well. Divine Materials and I just didn't mix. Why did we even need to learn this crap? Wasn't there a Voodoo Materials class? Of course not.
"Ah, this is driving me nuts."
Distractions kept popping up. From studying, I'd realized I was the type who dove deep only into what I liked. When my admission to Florence was confirmed, I skipped blessing and healing practice to focus solely on spells. Simple reason: handling Voodoo magic was more fun and easier than divine power.
Same principle— no matter how hard I crammed 'Divine Cosmology' or 'Divine Materials,' I'd forget it all by the next day. But 'Romanica Religion' or 'Scripture Comprehension'? A quick skim, and it'd stick for days. Because they were more fun and easier, probably. (Another distraction, by the way.)
I glanced at the clock. I'd done nothing, but 30 minutes had flown by.
"Ah."
Should I just sleep?
[If you want to bomb tomorrow's exam too, sure, go ahead and sleep.]
"You've got a real talent for saying the most infuriating things."
[You're worse at it. Look in the mirror before judging others.]
Legba said it flatly. Pissing me off again, but not wrong. I shook off the distractions and refocused.
The next day's Divine Materials exam was as brutal as Divine Cosmology. Once it ended, kids in the exam hall gathered in groups, chatting about how tough it was—and how low my score would be.
I'd thought it was just me, but apparently not. Good.
Unlike yesterday, nothing weird happened today. I rolled the dice on unknowns again, but Seong Ha-yeon didn't even glance my way, just kept solving. She'd even plugged her ears with earplugs. Guess the dice rattling annoyed her that much.
I got the answer sheet from the proctor and left the auditorium. Outside, Seong Ha-yeon waited with a smug look. I instinctively scowled.
"How'd the exam go?"
She said it mockingly. Without hesitation, I nodded.
"Great."
"Really? How many do you think you got wrong? Or should I ask how many you got right?"
She crossed her arms and smirked. Obvious provocation. I wanted to smack that exposed white forehead hard with my palm as the wind blew her bangs aside, but I held back. Smiling casually at her, I spoke.
"Perfect score."
"What?"
"Feels like a perfect. Honestly, it was easy."
Lie. I'd rolled Baron Samedi's dice way more today. The exam was that tough. I was praying for at least half right. But I couldn't admit that to her.
Seong Ha-yeon rolled her eyes in confusion, then forced a laugh like it was nothing.
"Hah, don't talk nonsense. What was the answer to 19?"
"Don't remember. Too easy, sped through it."
"19 was the hardest! You took the same test, right?"
"Maybe it was hard 'cause you're dumb? How about looking at yourself before judging others?"
I quoted Legba from yesterday. Her perfectly pale face flushed red. She was pissed. I hoped she'd snap, punch me in the face. I'd sue and get a settlement. But against my hopes, she didn't hit me. Instead, she tried acting casual with a smile.
"Whatever, results will tell. I'll win anyway."
"Empty carts rattle loudest— the ancients were spot on…."
"What…! Who're you calling empty!"
She flipped especially at "empty."
"Where's empty? Your brain, probably. I'm out. No time."
"Wait, you…!"
I heard her yelling behind me but ignored it and hurried off. I'd smoothly dodged her taunt and turned the tables. Felt damn good.
Back at the dorm, I graded it. I'd hoped for half right, and yep— exactly half. Baron Samedi's dice were useless again. Well, not entirely.
"The ones I picked… all right…."
When I rolled and got '0,' I ignored the dice and went with my gut. Those were all correct. But following the dice numbers? All wrong.
Baron Samedi's dice weren't ordinary after all. Coincidence? Probably not. Still, more wrongs than rights. Couldn't call Divine Materials a win.
Two subjects down, both bombed. If the last two tank too, I'd be Seong Ha-yeon's slave. But too early to quit. Perfects in 'Scripture Comprehension' and 'Romanica Religion' could save me.
Problem: I needed perfects for a shot.
[I can help with tomorrow and the day after. Need it?]
Legba said. Those were my strong suits anyway. With his help, perfects easy. Even without, top grade no sweat. Tempting, but I shook my head.
"I'm good."
[This exam matters a lot to you. Better to be sure, no?]
Unlike normal exams for quarterly grades, this decided the semester. Double the weight, plus the bet with Seong Ha-yeon. Huge stakes.
"Don't need help."
That's why I didn't want it. I wanted to beat her on my own. Seemed stubborn, but meant I was confident in those subjects.
[Hm. If that's your call… fine.]
"You sound sulky."
[Nothing to sulk about. Helping the needy is virtue; forcing help on the unneedy is meddling.]
"Says the guy who…."
Legba didn't force help on the independent but didn't eagerly aid the needy either. When hunting Satanists, he hid the truth to "test" me. Thinking back pissed me off.
[You needed help then, and I gave it. Sometimes indifference helps too.]
"Shameless as ever."
[Not shameless—right. You'll see someday.]
"Don't talk. You're distracting my studying."
[Fine.]
Arguing with Legba could last all night. I cut it off and studied. Strong subjects, so focus came easy. Studied till dinner for condition management, then crashed early. Tossed a bit, slept, woke early.
Up early, reread the Romanica Scripture. Changing to go out, purple cigar smoke wafted, fogging the mirror. Turned—Baron Samedi.
"No smoking in dorms. Put it out."
[What's it matter? Not my dorm.]
"Hah…."
I chuckled dryly and continued. "Why're you here so often lately?"
[Bored. Curious what you're up to.]
"Come less. Seeing you too much ain't welcoming."
Baron Samedi ignored me, smiled bitterly, and smoked silently. Smoke thick, heavy, acrid. Wind carried it everywhere. Room smell aside, my clothes would reek. Like last time, Jeong In-ah might misunderstand again.
[Those far from death can't smell my cigars.]
Suddenly recalled his old words. Then how'd Jeong In-ah smell it on me? A faint, dizzying dread hit.
"Baron Samedi, one question. Last time, a friend smelled your cigar on me?"
[Did she? Tough break for her, whoever.]
"…What do you mean?"
He ignored, cackled, and smoked. Through the haze, only his red eyes gleamed. I waved the smoke away. It grew thicker, heavier, stickier, filling the room.
[Means her time's up.]
His voice calm, dry. The smoke-choked room and his piercing gaze chilled me.
Seong Ha-yeon, early as always, studied ahead in the exam hall. Today: 'Scripture Comprehension.' Required strong memory plus real thinking, per the name.
First day's Divine Cosmology had a marking flub, so even she didn't know her score. Needed to beat me in at least one of Scripture or Romanica Religion for sure win. Weak subjects, so extra cram needed.
"Kids who suck at studying always cram last-minute."
Voice from behind, dripping sarcasm. She scowled, turned. Me, smirking down at her.
"Cramming last sticks best—"
"Yeah~ You're totally right."
I cut her off tauntingly, plugged my ears with earplugs, sat, pulled out Scripture, and studied. Calls out crammers, then crams himself. Words and actions didn't match. I got wanting to mess with someone you like, but this backfired. Only 'cause it's me she'd get a pass….
She couldn't focus, distracted by those thoughts.
Students filed in; soon, announcements blared. Proctor passed out papers and sheets. Bell. Exam start.
First page—Seong Ha-yeon's eyes widened.
"…."
Scripture teacher always said: Can't solve by rote alone, way harder than last year. Thought it was just to scare kids. Face-to-face, realized it wasn't bluff.
60 minutes, 35 questions. Each a killer. Not sure I could finish.
Then.
"Submitting and leaving."
A guy stood with sheet, told proctor. No surprise. It was Kang Dae-man….
"Straight-line again?"
"First question hit, knew it was beyond me!"
"Right…."
Proctor sighed wearily, shooed him out. Others ignored. Three days with him—used to it.
Seong Ha-yeon pushed on. Passages and sources wordy, exhausting. Manageable with focus, but tough. Pick right? All wrong. Pick wrong? All right. Standard scores would peak here. Couldn't get harder.
Even I couldn't perfect this. Diagnostic was child's play compared.
30-ish minutes left—half time not up—shock.
"Submitting and leaving."
Me, handing in sheet. Proctor tilted head.
"All done?"
Seong Ha-yeon puzzled too. I was decent at Scripture—topped diagnostic. Yet quitting? Why? Without it, she had me beat. Victory sure—but uneasy. Tough, but not quit-tough. That's why.
Couldn't focus, stared at me. To puzzled proctor, I frowned questioningly.
"Done, so submitting?"
"…."
Proctor and Seong Ha-yeon's faces hardened—for different reasons.
(To be continued)