“And that’s everything, in summary.” Emma concluded her story, her eyes perching on each of the seven elders in the room.
Five others had joined as she had narrated the tale that belonged to her, the tale that was ridden with holes-she didn’t think it wise to say everything, never mind that Annabel trusted them. So far, none had interrupted her amidst her long talk to ask any question. She hoped there wouldn’t be much now. She needed to sleep. She needed to eat.
Her stomach chose that time to grumble. Emma held back a snort, at the offending organ.
“We will let you go soon. We just need to get the facts straight, before letting you into our organization. Annabel must have told you that we are quite secretive.” A woman spoke, the only female amongst the rulers.
Emma nodded. “She did.”She couldn’t help but wonder what gifts the woman had. Was she on par with the gatekeeper who was standing guard at the door? If Alitha was there, who was guarding the gates.
“So, Nathan Makonel is your father?”
“I already said that before.” Emma bit out sharply, before she could help it. She glared at the offending elder who blanched at the intensity of the rudeness.
‘I know you’re frustrated, Emma. But just hold the reins of control till they give us the go ahead.’
Emma sighed at Prescott’s words, when a profound silence settled over the hall. The rulers, their expressions contemplative, exchanged glances that conveyed unspoken thoughts and deliberations.
Emma bowed her head, and waited for their judgment. She was already too tired to care.
One of the rulers finally spoke, his voice measured yet filled with curiosity. “You speak of unusual abilities, Emma,” He began. “You mentioned a squirrel named Prescott who communicates with you. Can you elaborate on this?”
Emma nodded, her mind racing to explain the inexplicable bond she shared with Prescott. “Prescott is not just any squirrel,” she started, choosing her words carefully. “He possesses an intelligence beyond what one would expect. He guides me through our shared mind path, offering advice and insights that have proven invaluable.”
She placed Prescott on the table, even though what she wanted to do was to shout at the elder. Couldn’t he see Prescott on her thighs? Or don’t they have better questions to ask? Were they stalling time? But for what?
She watched the elders exchange another glance, their expressions unreadable. What now? Would they ask why her hair was red?
“Emma, all that you have said were quite interesting, remarkable even. But I’m afraid that there’s no way we can get the truth in your statement, seeing that Annabel isn’t awake yet.”
Emma piqued an eyebrow, hunger and anger beating on her. “Well, since you aren’t ordinary, let Prescott create a mind path between you both. He can tell you all you need to know then.”
The elder who had spoken, an aged man who reminded Emma of the old man she had seen with Melvina on her first day at the pack, shook his head. “We can’t trust him either.”
Emma scoffed, before she could help it. “So, there’s no one amongst you who can tell if I am saying the truth? There’s no one with a gift like that, since you lot think that I have such an active imagination that I conjure up stories to enter your unknown academy?”
Prescott sighed, giving up on trying to calm Emma down. But then he understood her anger. Shouldn’t Annabel’s state have been enough grounds to trust them?
“At the moment, we don’t. But we have a truth serum. If it’s okay by you, we can use it on you.”
Emma didn’t know which one made her angrier; the fact that the old man remained calm despite her outburst, or the fact that he didn’t say anything regarding it. He looked at her like she was a child throwing a tantrum, like she was a mere statistic.
Maybe she was. Emma’s anger deflated to self pity. Maybe she couldn’t do this. This destiny, whatever it was, maybe she couldn’t do it. I am so tired.
‘You didn’t go through all these to lose your high self esteem now. Don’t let them. It’s a game to them, Emma. You should play it with them, instead of reclining into someone that has never been you.’
Emma laughed at Eden’s words, at Prescott’s agreement-both a reviving balm to her spirit. Her laugh, however, didn’t sit right with the old man.
“Is something funny, young lady?”
Emma shrugged her shoulders. “My apologies old man, my wolf can be quite funny.”
She smiled meekly when the man fisted his hands, and reclined in his chair. He didn’t like being called old man? But wasn’t he old?
“But you can bring the serum, if that would make my entry easier. I’m famished.”
As soon as she said this, someone stepped into the room with a tray containing a syringe. Emma held back another scoff. If they had planned all along to administer this on her, why hadn’t they mentioned it in the first stance? Why let her use her remaining strength to talk?
She said nothing as the middle aged man, patted her outstretched arm, and doled out the liquid into her.
As the serum took effect, Emma felt a sense of clarity wash over her. So this was it?
“Now, tell us the entire story. The entire truth.”
Emma nodded, and recounted her journey once more, omitting the same details as before. The elders didn’t need to know that she was still in control of her tongue.
Prescott found it hilarous. He turned away from the elders, jumped onto Emma’s thighs, and hid his face in her clothes, so that they wouldn’t detect his laughing face.
As Emma spoke, the elders observed closely, their expressions shifting from skepticism to understanding as they realized the truth in Emma’s words.
One of the elders nodded thoughtfully. “She speaks the truth,” He confirmed, his voice carrying conviction. The others exchanged glances, their doubts dispelled by the serum’s revelation.
Just then, a figure entered the room, commanding the attention of everyone present. Emma recognized him instantly as the ruler of them all, his presence exuding authority and power. The atmosphere in the room shifted subtly as he approached.
The man regarded Emma with a keen gaze, assessing her with a scrutiny that made her feel both nervous and honored. Unexpectedly, he inclined his head in a respectful bow, a gesture that surprised everyone in the room, including Emma herself.
“Please, take some rest, Emma Makonel.” He spoke with a voice that resonated with command yet carried a gentleness. “We will continue our discussions tomorrow.”
Emma opened her mouth to speak, but nothing came out. She could see that she wasn’t the only that was speechless; the other elders were too. She could also see that they were holding their tongues from speaking.
She watched as the aristocratic man called for a servant to attend to her needs.
“Take her to the finest suite in the academy,” He instructed, his tone firm yet caring, when a lady hurried into the hall. “And make sure her friends are taken proper care of too.”
Emma’s mind whirled with the events unfolding before her. But she followed the servant obediently, her heart filled with a mix of awe and gratitude towards the unexpected leader. With Prescott in her hand, she left the hall without a backward glance.
The corridors of the academy seemed to stretch endlessly as they walked, each step bringing her closer to the promise of rest and the beginning of her new life within the academy’s walls.
___
After a short walk, Emma found herself settling into the luxurious suite that had been prepared for her. The room was expansive, with high ceilings adorned with intricate carvings and tapestries depicting scenes of magical prowess. A grand four-poster bed dominated one corner, its richly embroidered curtains drawn back to reveal soft, inviting linens.
‘I like it.’
Emma liked it too.
She wandered through the suite, her hunger temporarily forgotten, running her fingers over the polished wood of a writing desk and marveling at the view from the tall windows that overlooked the academy grounds. The room exuded an air of history and elegance that both comforted and awed her.
As she sat gently at the desk, Emma pulled out her phone and sent a quick text to Freya.
*”Made it to the academy just now. We’re safe. Will update soon. Miss you.”*
Sending the message brought a wave of nostalgia and longing for her family, but also a reassurance that she was on the right path.
Exhaustion began to creep over her as the adrenaline of the day’s events finally ebbed away. Standing up, she walked to the wardrobe, hoping there was something to wear and sleep. She didn’t think she could stay awake till the lady returned with the food.
Luckily, the wardrobe had some clothes, just like Annabel had said. It was why they had left their clothes back in Florida.
Emma changed into the comfortable nightclothes, feeling the weight of weariness settle in her limbs. She paused at the window, gazing out at the moonlit courtyard below, her thoughts drifting to her friends who were still in the academy’s care.
She hoped fervently that they would recover swiftly under the academy’s expert treatment.
With a sigh, Emma crawled under the covers of the soft bed, sinking into its plushness, wishing Prescott was with her. She had handed him over to the lady for special treatment at the clinic.
The events of the day replayed in her mind like scenes from a vivid dream. She wondered what tomorrow would bring more training, perhaps answers to the questions that had brought her here in the first place.
As sleep enveloped her, Emma’s last conscious thought was of gratitude. Gratitude for the safety of her friends, for the reunion of her family, and for the opportunity to learn and grow within the academy.