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.
