Whispers of Worlds Beyond: A Series

The moment Adrian staggered back, struggling to push himself upright, the announcer's voice rang out across the Obsidian Ring.

"Winner- Ambrose Bessmertny!"

The words hit like a hammer.

For a moment, there was silence. Then, the crowd exploded. Some were cheering, while others were murmuring in confusion.

Adrian hadn't been down long enough to call it.

Aiden shot to his feet. "What?!"

His voice was drowned out by the noise, but his frustration burned through him. The fight wasn't over. Adrian was still standing. He could still fight.

Sevan snapped his book shut. His blue eyes darkened, and even though his expression remained unreadable, Aiden could feel the shift in his presence.

In the arena, Adrian slowly lifted his head. His dark eyes flashed with something dangerous before smoothing over into mocking amusement.

Ambrose stood in the center, rolling his shoulders like he had just won effortlessly, despite the numbing effect still lingering in his arms. His cocky smirk was too wide.

Adrian knew.

He had been cheated out of his win.

But calling it out wouldn't change anything.

Instead, he gave a slow, mocking clap.

"Wow," he drawled, tilting his head.

"Guess all that regeneration really paid off. Or maybe-" His smirk widened, though his eyes stayed sharp. "-you had a little extra help?"

Ambrose's smirk faltered just for a second.

Adrian saw it. Aiden saw it.

But the crowd saw nothing.

From the stands, Shiloh let out an obnoxious laugh. "Oh, quit whining! A loss is a loss."

Lochan added, "Yeah, shadow boy. Try harder next time."

Aiden's fists tightened. His nails dug into his palms. This wasn't just a loss. This was a stolen victory.

Adrian took a slow breath, then exhaled. He rolled his shoulders back and bent down to retrieve his dagger.

Without a word, he turned and walked out of the arena.

Aiden and Sevan pushed through the thinning crowd, heading straight for where Adrian had gone off.

The aftermath of the match still clung to the air- whispers, lingering gazes toward Aiden (despite it being months, him being a Chase seemed to still bother people), and murmured speculation. The faint hum of magic from the Obsidian Ring still crackled in the distance, fading now that the match had ended.

Ambrose had been declared the winner.

Aiden's fists clenched. They all knew what had happened in that fight. It wasn't outright cheating, but it was just subtle enough that no one could really call it out.

Just as they were about to step forward, a familiar presence blocked their path.

"Here," Miss Seacole said, pressing a small glass vial into Aiden's hand.

He blinked down at it. The liquid inside shimmered faintly, like a soft amber-gold.

"He needs to drink all of it," she said flatly, adjusting the sleeves of her uniform. "It'll help with the damage to his torso. Should prevent anything from lingering too long. I'd rather not have another first-year limping into my infirmary when it can be avoided."

Sevan took a glance at the vial, then back at her. "And what about Ambrose?"

Miss Seacole let out a sharp exhale, glancing toward the ring where the victor had already disappeared. "I'll be dealing with him next. The numbing magic won't last too long, but I'm not in the business of letting students stumble around half-paralyzed either."

Aiden met her gaze. There was something there- something unspoken. She knew something was off about that fight. But just like them, she had no proof.

"Take care of your friend, Aiden." she said, before sweeping past them with that same clinical efficiency, her focus already shifting to her next patient.

"Thank you, Miss Seacole!" Aiden shouted.

Aiden turned the vial over in his palm before tucking it into his jacket. "Come on."

They hurried toward Adrian.

They spotted him just outside the Obsidian Ring, slumped against a stone ledge with his head tilted back. His chest rose and fell steadily, but he wasn't moving much. His leather jacket was unzipped, his black shirt slightly torn from where Ambrose had landed hits. Dark bruises were already forming along his torso, barely visible beneath the fabric.

Aiden frowned. Ambrose really didn't hold back.

Adrian's fingers idly traced the hem of his sleeve- a rare sign of restlessness.

But he wasn't alone.

Jarek and Rupert were beside him.

Jarek stood with his arms crossed, his usual smirk replaced by something a little less infuriating. Rupert crouched near Adrian's side, talking softly, though Adrian wasn't really responding.

The moment Aiden and Sevan approached, Jarek lifted a hand in greeting.

"Your boy put up a good fight," he said, nodding toward Adrian. "Just a shame he didn't twist that dagger in deeper."

Rupert shot Jarek a look. "Not helping."

Jarek only grinned. "Wasn't trying to."

Sevan ignored them both. He crouched down beside Adrian and held out the vial.

"Drink."

"Let me sulk first."

"Yeah, no," Aiden said, arms crossed. "If you don't drink it, Seacole's throwing you into the infirmary. Your call."

Adrian groaned but begrudgingly took the vial. He uncorked it and knocked it back in one go. His face twisted immediately.

"Ugh," he muttered, running a hand through his hair. "That's worse than losing."

Jarek snorted. "Doubt it."

Adrian side-eyed him. "Say that again when you get wrecked in a duel."

Jarek just grinned. "I won't."

Rupert shook his head. "You fought well, Adrian."

A muscle in Adrian's jaw twitched. For a moment, it looked like he might snap back with sarcasm, but instead, he just scoffed and leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees.

"Yeah, well," he muttered, "apparently, 'fighting well' isn't enough."

Aiden exchanged a glance with Sevan. They all knew what had happened in that fight. But Adrian wasn't the type to complain- not when he could just get better instead.

After all, the guy's as unmovable as a rock.

Sevan nudged Adrian's boot with his own. "You're not dead. That's what matters."

Adrian huffed, then smirked. "Could say the same to you later."

Jarek stretched his arms behind his head. "So, who's next?"

Aiden rolled his shoulders. "Sevan's match is first. Then mine."

Jarek smirked, cracking his knuckles. "Good. Can't wait to see if you two are actually any good or if Adrian just made this whole team look bad."

Adrian threw a half-hearted punch at Jarek's leg, which Jarek dodged with a laugh.

Rupert sighed, rubbing his temple. "If you three are done, let's get moving. Food exists, and I, for one, would like some."

Before they could leave, a familiar, grating voice cut through the air.

"Well, well, well. Look at this little pity party."

Aiden didn't even need to turn around to know who it was.

Shiloh stood a few feet away, hands stuffed in his robes, his usual smirk plastered on his face. Lochan and Ambrose weren't with him this time, but he didn't seem to care. His sharp black eyes flicked between them, lingering on Adrian.

"Didn't think you'd go down that fast," Shiloh said, tilting his head in mock curiosity. "Guess all that brooding and sneaking around didn't help much, huh?"

Aiden could feel Adrian tense beside him, but he didn't say anything. Not yet.

Jarek snorted, stretching his arms. "You looking to get punched, Tarot Reader?"

Shiloh ignored him, grinning at Sevan. "Better hope you put up more of a fight than your buddy here, or else you might as well just lie down and save everyone the trouble."

Sevan didn't flinch. He just stared. Cold, unreadable.

Shiloh laughed. "Oh, come on. You guys get one loss, and now you're all mute?" His gaze landed on Aiden next.

"What about you, Chase? Gonna set me on fire?"

Aiden's fingers twitched.

He wanted to.

He really, really wanted to.

What's the harm of burning him on fire? No. Better, what if Aiden burns his deck of cards first that was given to him by his oh lovable daddy and then burn his ass and his clothes and his room and his hair and his face?

While he's at it, maybe put some firecrackers up his ass as well.

The way Shiloh smirked at him- like he knew he was getting under Aiden's skin- only made it worse.

"I'd say break a leg later," Shiloh said, mockingly polite. "But from the looks of it, you might not even make it that far."

Something in Aiden snapped.

Before he even realized it, heat flared in his palm, fire flickering to life at his fingertips.

Shiloh's smirk widened. "There it is."

Aiden took a step forward.

A hand landed on his shoulder.

He turned, expecting Sevan, but it was Adrian.

Adrian, still bruised, still recovering, looking at Aiden with an expression that was half-exhausted, half-amused.

"Not worth it," Adrian muttered. "Save it for the duel."

Aiden clenched his jaw. He could still feel the heat licking at his fingers, but with a slow breath, he forced it to fizzle out.

Shiloh snickered. "That's what I thought."

"Yeah?" Adrian said suddenly, tilting his head. "You must be real confident in your own fight, huh?"

Shiloh shrugged. "Obviously."

Adrian grinned. A sharp, knowing grin. "Then I hope you don't lose, you little piece of shir. Wouldn't want all that trash talk to go to waste."

Shiloh's smirk faltered just a fraction.

"See you later," Adrian added, voice mockingly light.

Shiloh scoffed but didn't push it further. With a roll of his shoulders, he turned and walked away, hands still in his pockets.

Aiden exhaled through his nose.

"Idiot," Sevan muttered beside him.

Aiden didn't know if he was talking about Shiloh or him. Maybe both.

Adrian stretched, wincing slightly. "Let's get food. I need something to make me forget that that just happened."

Aiden shook his head, tension finally starting to leave his shoulders.

If only he was the one against Shiloh, he would've burned all his hair off for the whole arena to see just how ugly the coward is.