Adah.
Emma took note of the name, took note of the voice of the female that seemed to be the only one on her side, just as she took note of the names of the professors. Quinn and Brooks.
All that left now was to know which name belonged to the male with gray eyes or the one with black eyes; both who were still glaring at her in all incredulity.
She also noticed that Gira, who had chosen to leave earlier, had now taken a stance a few feet away from her, to watch the show, and maybe give a report to Prince Shiloh.
Why wasn’t he the king? She wondered. She had called him King af first, because his aura had shown him to be that; a ruler of all. So, why wasn’t he one? Or was there someone else higher than him? His father?
Emma shook her head. It didn’t seem so. Or was ‘Prince’ just the tag they had chosen for a ruler of the community? Did the word ‘King’ translate to a dictator in their dictionary?
Emma forwent these mundane thoughts though, when the male with grey eyes, the most daring if she was to pick, scoffed and shook his head. “Do you think we are here to joke around? Emma Makonel…”
Emma ignored his question. “Which of you is Brooks, and which is Quinn?” She asked rather, withdrawing her hands from her pants’ pockets and flexing them. Should the professors be evasive again, she might loosen their lips with her own version of truth serum.
At her question, the two professors exchanged incredulous glances again, not pleased at all with the attention they had gathered. But they didn’t answer her, instead they, in one accord, commanded flames to surround Emma, causing another round of gasps to explode in the arena.
“We thought of going the easy way, but what better way to teach you a lesson than the hard way?” The male with gray eyes snickered after he spoke, waiting for Emma’s call for help, or plea for mercy, as the fire closed in on her; as Gira ran out of the stadium; as the students left their seats; as they hurried down, toward the centre of the stadium to stop the professors who could be crazy some times-Prince Shiloh would have all their hides should something happen to his esteemed guest.
But in the midst of the fire, Emma was laughing, not even feeling the red heat of the burning flames which towered way over her-they were rather afraid of her.
She withdrew into herself, and watched as the pit within her opened an eye, as if to wonder at the impetus of the professors, as if to relegate the fire attack to an insult to its might. It retaliated by cocooning Emma with such magic that the redhead became heady with the flow of power assailing her, swimming in her veins.
Immediately, she stretched her hands to the fire. And with a pull of the hands inward, drew the fire into herself, and out of the control of the professors who could no longer understand the move of their fire. They couldn’t come close either to check because that would mean burning themselves to ashes.
But when Emma reduced the huge circle of fire into little burning orbs hanging over her hands; when she stepped out of the fireless ring; the mouths of the professors, of the students dropped in shock. The same was the story of the people in the war council who had been watching the display from one end, unknown to the people.
The group watched, to scout for strong ‘rares’ to keep tabs upon, just like other elders were doing too. It was a normal occurrence-staying at a hidden corner to watch the proceedings, an act unknown to the professors too-it was how they chose the leaders of the academy, and community as a whole.
“What did she just do?”
“Did she just reduce the fire into orbs?”
“Adah, you are right. We shouldn’t have counted her out. In mere minutes, she had managed to put the professors to shame. Do you think they would come to classes again?”
Adah laughed, a laugh that drew Emma into her location, that drew the redhead’s attention from the gobsmacked professors.
Emma furrowed her eyebrows, when the girl winked at her-the brown skinned girl knew she had gotten her attention. Oh well.
However, before she could concentrate on the features of the person who she knew would be a great friend, her legs were immediately caged in ice, her hands too. When she turned to watch the professors, she noticed that though they were smirking, they were sweating. It was then that she also noticed that they hadn’t just stopped her hands and legs from working, but that they had also enclosed her in an invisible cage that stopped the flow of magic.
“So, what can you do now, Emma? If you are placed in a situation such as this, what would be your way out? You never know the enemies that war would bring your way.”
The male with the gray eyes was right. War would bring a lot of things, of which this holding her would be the least. The least because she could escape it, comfortably.
Already, her magic has increased on a higher frequency than the frequency of the cage around her. She could also see that Gira had returned with the Prince, and a few elders. And much as the Prince was angry with the professors-she could see that in his beautiful brown eyes-she could also tell that he was curious to know how she would escape this.
Emma cocked her head to the left, and smirked when her magic was done nullifying the cage around her and the ice that had held her hands and legs captive. Yet she kept up the illusion that they were still there, that she was still bound.
The professors took a step back seeing the mischievous glint in her eyes, their taste for success waning by the passing second. Who was this girl? They thought, suddenly at loss when Emma disappeared right before their eyes. Where did she go?!
Before they could deliberate on that thought however, they felt a fiery twine around their necks.
“Move one inch, and you are dead…”
They stood still, in amazement and humiliation, aware that Emma was behind them, aware she had enclosed their neck with a twine embedded with fire. Their heads would snap off their necks if they moved; that’s if the heat didn’t burn off their necks first. Already, they could feel their skin preparing to peel in front of the searing heat.
“You have made your statement, Emma. We had been wrong to underestimate you. You can let us go now.” The male with black eyes spoke, or rather stuttered.
If Emma didn’t have sensitive ears, she wouldn’t have heard it. She laughed when she heard it. “Sure, I will let you both go. But first, who is Brook and who is Quinn?”
“I am Professor Brooks…” The male with gray eyes volunteered calmly, even though anger simmered within him. He was calculating how to deal Emma the last blow; he refused to be put to shame by a mere girl.
Emma nodded in satisfaction. “That would have saved us all this time. If you are Brooks, then you are Quinn?”
Both Quinn and Brooks nodded.
Emma snickered, before increasing the temperature of heat around their necks; curious to see their next choice.
Their next choice had been to go still, as if embracing their death. They didn’t plead or say another word. Emma sighed, suddenly bored, and let them go; swiftly returning to her former position, in front of them.
“It’s been nice making your acquaintances, Professors Quinn and Brooks. I hope, for all our sakes, that you make no jab about my mother again. I’m not exactly as forgiving as she is; I won’t be this forgiving again.”
Professor Quinn gave her a perceptible nod, turned around and walked away, managing to keep his head upright, refusing to cower under shame.
Prof Brooks, however, remained standing in front of her.
“Is there a problem, Professor Brooks?” Emma asked the middle aged male who she knew was angry, who she was wishing would combat with her. She was still unhappy for the jab they had made at her mother in public. She wanted him to pay appropriately.
Professor Brooks kept silent, his eyes fixed to the ground, as if he was searching out something on it.
Behind them, at a reasonable distance, was Prince Shiloh, who was waiting for his subordinate’s reply, who wished that the latter would walk away; Brooks was no match for the chosen one with diverse heritages.
“One more combat…it’s been a while since I have challenged to battle. I would like to fight you one on one.”
The professor’s statement brought Casper’s death into Emma’s memory, and suddenly the fighting spirit dissipated.
“I’m not interested.” She spoke somberly, surprising the professor, especially when she turned away, and started toward the exit.
But Professor Brooks wasn’t having that. He instantly shifted to a cougar.