The board went up while I was sitting on the floor.
There had been a bench outside the result office when I arrived. Someone had carried it inside for the candidates waiting to be called. The others were full, and I hadn't wanted to ask for it back. I sat with my left arm against my side and my right hand open on my knee. The bruise hurt less if I didn't try to find exactly where it ended.
People began moving toward the board. I waited for the first rush to pass, then used the wall to stand.
My name was below a heading I could read from the other end of the passage.
Iron.
I found the line joining my entry to the examination result. Aiden Crest, winner. Cedric Valdrake, loss by surrender. The little space after that contained a reference to the referee's account.
A boy reached past my shoulder and put a finger beneath somebody else's name. His sleeve brushed my arm. I moved before I could make a sound.
