Whispers of Worlds Beyond: A Series - Chapter 150

Chapter 150: Orchestral Symphony [15]
The field erupted into chaos.

“Get her!” Shiloh’s voice cracked above the silence, his arm outstretched, finger jabbing in Emmeranne’s direction.”She’s going to escape! Someone stop her!”

It happened in a blur.

Emmeranne didn’t speak. She didn’t move at first. But the moment Shiloh shouted, her hands clenched at her sides, cloak whipping as the wind suddenly shifted.

Then she turned and ran.

She wasn’t fast at first. Her legs moved like they were reluctant, as if even she didn’t expect herself to flee. But the moment her feet hit the edge of the Mirage Field, her body launched forward with terrifying speed.

Gasps. Screams. Spells flickering to life.

From the crowd of upper years, a figure stepped out, and Lopt emerged, no longer smiling.

His eyes were wide, bright with disbelief and something else- sorrow. His steps were quick, graceful, and when he moved, he did not raise his arms in violence.

Instead, he stood in Emmeranne’s path with a pained look twisting his face.

“Emmeranne- don’t!” he shouted.

She skidded to a halt.

“Move, Lopt.”

Her voice was quiet, barely a whisper, but it was the most emotion anyone had ever heard from her. It wasn’t cold, nor detached. It was… afraid.

But Lopt didn’t budge.

His lips curled into something broken- half a laugh, half a sob.

“Ironic, isn’t it?” he whispered hoarsely. “After everything, it’s you running now. It’s you they’re chasing.”

His eyes glistened with tears.”Justice.” The word barely made it out. “For Savion. For the others. For her.” He glanced toward the injured girl still kneeling.

“I never thought it would be you. No. Not really. I actually know it would be you. Ever since you arrived, ever since I saw you years ago, I know something is wrong with you, like a past. My experience in the enemy lines have not failed me. You… you’re a spy, aren’t you? You must be conspiring against Soleil, against Genvah. After all, weren’t you behind the killings in London Square?”

Aiden froze. London Square?

Adrian was gaping when Aiden turned to look at him. They both had the same thing in mind: the London Square murders that they heard when they were eavesdropping in Mr Caleena’s conversation many months ago.

How did Lopt know about the London Square incident? Or how did he even came up with the idea of that? Wasn’t the talk under wraps given how Mr. Caleena was in an undercover mission and that Aiden’s identity wasn’t revealed to be from Earth?

Emmeranne’s lips parted like she wanted to say something, but the words didn’t come. Her body trembled, not from fear, but from restraint. She clenched her fists harder, shoulders tense.

“I didn’t…” she started, her voice cracking.

She stopped.

Everyone waited for more. For a denial. For an explanation. For anything.

But nothing came.

Not a single coherent word. Her mouth opened. Then closed again.

She turned sharply, and ran once more.

“No!” Lopt shouted, lunging to stop her, but she slid beneath his outstretched arm and vanished between the other students.

Before she could escape, a beam of radiant light cracked the ground just inches from her.

Professor Anwar had his hand was raised, threads of golden light still coiling around his fingertips, the scent of burning earth drifting upward.

The strike hadn’t been meant to harm, but just to stop.

But it wasn’t enough.

The momentary pause gave Emmeranne time. She spun, leapt, and disappeared into the shadowed outer field, leaving behind the twin-bladed dagger, the stunned students, and the echoes of Lopt’s grief-stricken voice.

Aiden stood frozen, the heat of his fire magic still humming in his veins, unsure of what he had just witnessed.

The aftermath of Emmeranne’s escape left a heavy silence over the Mirage Field, the kind that seemed to squeeze the breath out of everyone’s lungs. Students still stood in scattered clusters, whispering with wide eyes, while professors murmured among themselves. The silver gleam of the twin-bladed dagger lay untouched on the stone.

Amihan’s hands trembled as she wiped away the tears from her cheeks. Her breathing was uneven, ragged as she turned on Shiloh, her voice rising in disbelief.

“You don’t know what you’re saying! Emmeranne would never do that!”

Shiloh crossed his arms, rolling his eyes at her. “You saw her run, crybaby. Stop denying because she’s your friend.”

“She ran because you were all shouting at her like she was a monster!” Amihan snapped, her white hair frizzing from the static in the air. “She didn’t even get to explain herself! You called for people to catch her like she’s some criminal-!”

“She didn’t deny it either. She tried. But she couldn’t even form a sentence.”

“Because everyone was screaming at her!” Amihan shouted. “Because she was afraid!”

Her voice cracked. Her shoulders shook. She looked around, desperate for someone- anyone- to say something in Emmeranne’s defense.

She turned to Ivara and Morrigan, her gaze pleading.”Tell him. Please. You both know Emmeranne. You know she wouldn’t. She… couldn’t do something like that.”

But Ivara avoided her eyes. Her expression was tight, and she shook her head slowly.

“Amihan… I—I don’t know. I don’t want to believe it. But if she ran, and the dagger was at her feet…”

Morrigan gave a small, almost apologetic shrug. “They don’t just find random weapons lying around, Amihan. Especially not ones that match the wound of a survivor. I don’t want to believe it, either. She’s our friend…”

Amihan’s heart dropped. Her gaze darted between the two girls- her friends- and all she found was uncertainty, and fear. No one was standing by Emmeranne.

She staggered back a step, almost as if struck. Her voice was barely above a whisper now.

“So that’s it? Just because she ran… you’re all going to believe the worst?”

No one answered.

Somewhere behind them, Professor Anwar was speaking quietly with Headmaster Kairos, both of their expressions unreadable.

With a single, deliberate wave of his hand, Headmaster Kairos conjured a gleaming golden microphone that hovered silently in the air beside him, pulsing with a faint light. It floated with an otherworldly grace, catching the attention of every student, professor, and staff member scattered across the Mirage Field. The once-humming energy of chatter and confusion was silenced instantly as the microphone glowed brighter, amplifying the Headmaster’s voice with a slow, deliberate echo.

“Effective immediately,” Headmaster Kairos began, his voice deep and solemn, carrying the weight of finality, “all activities related to the Solstice Trials are to be suspended until further notice.”

A stunned hush fell across the field, as if even the wind itself had paused to listen. The Headmaster’s voice continued, clear and commanding:

“Due to the circumstances that have just unfolded, an incident that will be thoroughly investigated by both the Academy and the Council, we will be gathering all students and relevant faculty in the Great Hall. Your presence is not a request, but a requirement. Proceed in an orderly manner. Faculty will guide each year-level accordingly. That is all.”

As the golden microphone vanished into flickering particles of light, the spell over the crowd seemed to break, giving way to a low tide of murmurs, confusion, and fear.

Professor Ylang-Ylang immediately stepped forward, gliding toward the first years. Her fairy-like dress swayed as her three Divatas hovered in graceful circles around her.

Amihan was still on the floor, her knees folded beneath her, her shoulders shaking silently. Ylang-Ylang did not touch her, but extended her carved stick gently toward her shoulder. With a flourish of magical energy, she lifted the girl up with an invisible force.

“Come now, child,” she said quietly, her voice a soothing balm in the chaos. “Let’s get you inside.”

Amihan stumbled forward, still looking over her shoulder toward where Emmeranne had once stood, as if expecting her to return, as if willing it with her tears.

Meanwhile, Morrigan and Ivara moved to support her, Ivara brushing a strand of hair from Amihan’s face and whispering something only she could hear. Ammonn came up behind them, hesitating before placing a hand on Amihan’s back.

“She would never do this,” Amihan whispered brokenly.

Neither Morrigan nor Ivara responded at first.

“If she was caught,” Morrigan finally murmured, “and if she ran…”

“Then it means she did something,” Ivara said, her voice flat, trying to convince herself more than anyone else.

Amihan turned to them, disbelief and betrayal painted across her features. But they couldn’t meet her eyes.

A few steps away, Aiden stood stiffly beside Adrian and Sevan. Jarek and Rupert had joined them, whispering among themselves. Sevan’s brows were furrowed in thought, while Adrian’s jaw was tight, shadows twitching at the ends of his fingers like reflexive tics. Aiden didn’t say anything. His hands were clenched.

Further back, Ambrose and Lochan stood frozen, their faces pale and drawn.

“Genvah is cursed,” Ambrose mumbled under his breath.

“We shouldn’t have come here,” Lochan added, wild-eyed. “I’m writing to my father. He’ll get me out. He will. Blast that stupid requirement, I don’t care about all this. Father better persuade the King to stop this madness of a decree for all kids to join.”

Professor Ylang-Ylang gently extended her hand, her Divatas twinkling around her as she gestured for the first years to follow.

“Come along, all of you,” she said, her voice still gentle but lined with urgency. “No lingering. The Headmaster’s orders are not to be questioned.”

One by one, the first years began to file out of the Mirage Field, the air heavy around them.