Whispers of Worlds Beyond: A Series-Chapter 129: Bats

The next morning, Aiden woke up early, though he hadn't gotten much sleep.

His duel was today.

He left the dorm quietly, careful not to wake either of them. Not that it mattered- Adrian was sprawled out on his bed, face buried in his pillow, and Sevan had his book open on his chest, barely moving. They'd been in their own heads since yesterday, frustrated with themselves.

Aiden didn't blame them.

He made his way to one of the quieter training halls, pushing past the doors and let out a slow breath.

His fire whip and sword combination was still too unrefined for his liking. The whip was easy enough. He could lash it and control its movements, but the sword was a different story.

It lacked a solid form, flickering between a blade and unstable flames. If he didn't get it under control, it would fail him in a real fight.

He rolled his shoulders, then ignited the whip first, feeling the familiar heat coil around his fingers. With a snap, it cracked against the stone floor.

Good. Now for the sword.

Aiden willed the fire in his hand to take shape, forming the outline of a blade. For a second, it held. But as soon as he moved, the form wavered, flickering into wild embers before reforming again.

He growled under his breath and tried again. The blade flared to life, and this time, he swung carefully, forcing it to hold its shape. It cut through the air, but when he went for a follow-up strike, it stuttered again.

His grip tightened.

Aiden kept practicing, swinging, forming, and reforging the blade each time it broke apart. Sweat dripped down his back, but he didn't stop.

He couldn't stop.

By the time the sun rose higher, his arms ached, but the sword was holding for longer now.

He exhaled sharply, wiping his brow.

One way or another, he would make sure he didn't let everyone down. He wouldn't lose. Looking at it, Aiden smiled to himself as rushes of memories filled him.

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Months ago, he was in this exact position, except that now, he was fighting for himself. Months ago, he was fighting for the Chase family name, scared of tarnishing it. He remembered how he would be up all night with nightmares plaguing him and practicing his lessons to be perfect.

He still wanted to be perfect, but he promised Adrian and the Caleenas that he would not push himself too much and to enjoy.

The door creaked open, and Aiden instinctively turned, still gripping the fire-whip tightly in his hand.

Emmeranne stepped inside, dressed in a plain training shirt and shorts, her long black hair loose as she walked. She didn't acknowledge him at first, focusing on tying her hair back into a ponytail.

Aiden didn't move, watching her cautiously.

He still wasn't sure what to make of her, but the three had talked in making distance.

She finally finished tying her hair and glanced at him.

You're up early."

Aiden let out a breath, relaxing his stance. "So are you."

She didn't respond right away, walking past him toward the center of the training hall.

"Training?" he asked, even though it was obvious.

She hummed in agreement, rolling her shoulders as she took a stance. "You should keep going. Don't stop just because someone else is here."

He hesitated for a moment before turning back to his own practice, gripping the flickering fire-blade in his hand. He wouldn't let her distract him. And he had to make sure to be hyper aware of his surroundings. Who knows what she will do to him?

The hall fell into silence again, save for the sharp crackle of Aiden's flames and the steady sound of Emmeranne's movements as she began her own training.

Aiden focused on his fire-whip, snapping it forward and pulling back as embers scattered through the air. He was adjusting his control, trying to make the whip flow seamlessly into his strikes with the fire-blade. It still wasn't solid enough, still flickering with instability whenever he moved too fast.

He exhaled sharply, preparing to strike again, when he noticed movement from the corner of his eye.

Emmeranne had moved and taken the training dummy beside him.

Out of all the open space, out of all the untouched dummies in the hall, she had chosen the one right next to him.

"Why?"

Emmeranne didn't look at him, adjusting the dummy's position with a tilt of her head. "Why what?"

"Out of all the training dummies in the hall, you chose that one. There's plenty of space."

"Does it bother you?"

Aiden opened his mouth, then closed it.

It didn't exactly bother him. No. It really did bother him. She had never given the impression of someone who sought company. And she's a murderer too!

"You're better at training than talking."

"Not an answer."

Emmeranne didn't flinch. "Then take a guess."

Aiden narrowed his eyes, trying to read her. He didn't know what she wanted, but he had the feeling she wouldn't explain herself no matter how much he asked.

"Forget it," he muttered, turning back to his own training.

Emmeranne simply hummed in acknowledgment and returned to hers.

Aiden gritted his teeth as his fire-whip flickered again, failing to pull the dummy toward him the way he intended.

"You're too slow."

Aiden turned his head, already scowling, only to see Emmeranne adjusting her stance as she struck the training dummy in front of her.

"I know," Aiden muttered, trying again. This time, the whip moved better, snapping forward with a controlled burst of flame. But when he tried to switch to his sword, it wavered again.

"The shift between weapons should be fluid," Emmeranne said, still not looking at him. "Right now, there's hesitation. You're treating them as separate rather than extensions of each other."

Aiden exhaled sharply, resisting the urge to snap at her. The worst part? She was right.

And that irritated him even more.

"I'm working on it," he said through gritted teeth.

"Obviously."

"You're compensating for the instability of your sword with force. It won't work," she continued.

"Then what would?"

Emmeranne studied his stance for a moment. "Control. Rather than fighting against the instability, work with it. I'd think you listen to Professor Anwar's lectures but it seems that's not the case."

"That doesn't make sense."

"It does if you actually think about it."

Aiden shot her a glare, but begrudgingly, he tried her suggestion. He didn't force the fire into a solid shape but instead let it shift naturally as he swung.

The result was… better.

Emmeranne gave a slight nod, as if confirming something to herself. "Now, adjust your grip."

Aiden hesitated. He didn't like taking advice, especially from her, but he also couldn't deny that she actually knew what she was talking about. And that was what made it annoying.

With another sigh, he did as she said.

But then, there was something else.

A sound.

Aiden stiffened mid-movement, his grip tightening around the hilt of his barely formed sword. There was a sound of rustling- like fabric brushing against stone. Then, a whisper of wind that wasn't supposed to be there.

He wasn't the only one who noticed. Emmeranne had gone still, her head tilted slightly as if listening.

Then the torches along the walls flickered.

Before Aiden could say anything, a sudden flurry of movement burst into the hall.

Bats.

There was a swarm of them, pouring from the shadows like materializing from darkness, their wings a chaotic blur. Aiden barely had time to react before they were on him.

Sharp claws and tiny fangs scratched at his skin, tangling in his hair, wings beating so hard that they almost smothered his fire. He swung his arm instinctively, trying to burn all of them down, but they twisted away, vanishing into nothing. Just disappearing mid-flight as if they had never been there in the first place.

And then… silence.

Aiden's breathing was uneven as he turned in a sharp circle, trying to find any trace of them. His skin stung, his arms and neck lined with fresh scratches.

"What the hell was that?" he demanded, turning toward Emmeranne.

Only to find her completely unscathed.

She was standing there, watching him with the same unreadable expression, not a single mark on her.

"No idea," she said simply.

Aiden wiped at a scratch on his cheek, pissed. "Really? No idea? Then why did they only go after me?"

"Must be your charming personality."

"Not funny."

"It wasn't meant to be."

His fingers curled into fists, with bursts of fire igniting as Aiden felt like his skin is turning hotter and hotter by the minute.

The bats had come and gone so quickly, and had only targeted him. And the fact that they had completely ignored Emmeranne...

This is the proof Aiden could show about Emmeranne. That he had suffered injuries by being alone with her but she was unable to kill him off and he escaped.

Then Savion will be given justice, and Lopt can finally avenge his friend.