Whispers of Worlds Beyond: A Series

Aiden took a hesitant step forward, the sound of his shoe against the old floor swallowed up by the sweeping hum of the magical instruments still playing around Lopt. The swirling magic in the room made it feel like walking through a memory- half-familiar, half-unreal. The instruments floated effortlessly, their strings vibrating, drumsticks tapping on their own, flutes singing without breath.

It was like the room was dreaming.

And Lopt stood in the center of it, perfectly still now, with a smirk curling his lips and his eyes gleaming with something Aiden couldn't place.

"You knew I was there," Aiden said slowly, still keeping a bit of distance between them. "Did you hear me come in?"

Lopt tilted his head as if amused by the question. He didn't answer right away.

"I know a lot of things, Chase," he said finally. "Sometimes it's not about hearing. Sometimes you just… feel when someone's watching."

The way he said it gave Aiden chills. His gaze darted around the room again, trying to figure out if the instruments were just enchanted or something more.

There was something uncanny about how they moved, not like magic from the professors, but more intuitive, almost alive.

"Do you play?"

Aiden blinked. "What?"

"The instruments." Lopt gestured to the room, as if it should be obvious. "Do you play? Or are you just a pretty face with magic?"

Aiden frowned at that but didn't take the bait.

"I… used to play. Piano. I was forced to, when I was young. It wasn't a choice."

Lopt's grin widened, but it wasn't mocking. It was knowing.

"Ah, piano," he said softly, turning toward an upright one in the far corner. "The instrument of reluctant prodigies and pressured heirs. I should've guessed."

"How did you guess?" Aiden asked.

Lopt walked slowly toward the piano, brushing his fingers along the top of it.

"You have that air about you," he murmured. "The kind of person who used to sit too straight at recitals. Forced to memorize pieces by heart while other kids were allowed to run around." He paused, glancing back over his shoulder. "Tell me I'm wrong."

Aiden didn't answer right away.

The music shifted again, now slower, quieter, almost melancholic.

"You know," Lopt went on, speaking almost to the room itself, "music has a way of remembering things we forget. Or choose to forget."

Aiden didn't like the way he said that.

Like Lopt knew something he wasn't saying.

He took another step forward. "Why are you here? This room… this doesn't feel like just a hobby."

Lopt stopped, fingers resting gently on the piano keys now. He didn't press them down.

"Who says I'm just here?" he said softly. "Maybe I've always been here. Or maybe I just come when the melody calls."

Aiden stared at him. "You're not answering."

"I rarely do." Lopt turned and finally met Aiden's gaze fully, his expression unreadable. "But sometimes the answers are in the music. If you listen close enough."

The words hung in the air, mingling with the strange harmonies around them.

"Come," Lopt said suddenly, gesturing to a worn bench beside the piano. "Play something."

"It's been years. I barely remember."

"Then don't remember," Lopt replied. "Feel."

Something about the way he said it sent a shiver through Aiden. The fog in his head, the lost memories, the vague sense of something being wrong, it all suddenly pressed in on him.

The piano groaned softly as Aiden slid onto the bench, the faded ivory keys beneath his fingertips worn but familiar.

He hesitated, staring at them for a long moment while Lopt stood beside him, arms crossed, head tilted slightly like he was listening to something far away. The instruments had quieted somewhat, still humming, but expectant, like they, too, were waiting to see what would happen.

"Go on," Lopt murmured, his voice unusually calm. "Just play what comes."

Aiden exhaled slowly and pressed a key.

A single note echoed through the room. He followed it with another, and another, slowly weaving something uncertain but real. His fingers found old pathways buried deep in memory, rusty but intact. The melody started to take shape- not a piece he had memorized, but something of his own. Something raw. The room seemed to breathe with it.

Lopt leaned against the side of the piano, closing his eyes, letting the notes swirl around him. Then, without warning, a violin lifted from its resting place and joined in. No bow, no hand guiding it.

The strings moved on their own, syncing with Aiden's tune. A flute followed, then a harp from the shadows. The room was alive again, filled with soft, strange music.

"You're not bad," Lopt said quietly after a while, his gaze still distant. "You could've been something else entirely if your life had gone a different direction."

"I don't think I ever had much of a say," Aiden replied without looking at him.

Lopt gave a small, knowing smile. "None of us did."

For a while, they just let the music play.

Then Lopt broke the silence. "After the Solstice Trials… I'll be heading out again. Scouting."

Aiden's hands froze over the keys. He looked up. "So soon?"

Lopt nodded, pushing himself off the piano with a soft sigh. "Orders. Always more to see, more to uncover. The world doesn't stop just because a school is burning with secrets."

Aiden's heart clenched unexpectedly. "Take care," he said, almost too quickly.

That made Lopt laugh. A light, musical sound, but with a bite of sadness at the edge. "Oh, Chase," he said with a crooked smile, "you're the one who should be careful."

"I'm serious."

"So am I."

There was a pause. Then Lopt turned away, facing the still-playing instruments, letting the music wrap around him like a cloak.

"But," he added softly, "I don't think you'll need luck or caution. Not this time."

Aiden's brow furrowed. "What do you mean?"

"Not when I'm here," Lopt said slowly, "I don't plan to leave until I finish my last objective here."

"What objective?"

Lopt didn't answer right away. He walked across the room, past a floating cello and a harp that shimmered like frost, toward the far wall. His hand brushed a series of notes from a wind chime that wasn't there before.

Then, without turning back, he said, "You'll understand… when it's time."

Aiden stood. "Lopt-"

But Lopt waved a hand behind him, and the air shimmered.

The instruments fell silent. The room dimmed just as Aiden could make out a small shadow of Lopt from the corner of his eye.

And Lopt was gone.

Aiden blinked slowly, the dull light of the restroom making his head throb. He was still slumped against the tiled wall beside the sink, the stone floor cold beneath him. His heart pounded strangely fast in his chest as he sat up, confusion prickling under his skin.

I was out… wasn't I? he thought. I walked out. I found Lopt. The music, the instruments… it happened. Didn't it?

But here he was.

Still in the same cramped stall where he had supposedly gone to "do a number two." The karatula stone was nowhere in sight, and his pockets were empty.

For a few seconds, he just stared at his own reflection in the mirror. His skin was paler than usual, his eyes ringed with the faintest hint of exhaustion. The events in the musical chamber all felt like something carved into the back of his mind and then buried.

And yet, so real.

He opened the door slowly.

Adrian was right outside, leaning against the wall with a look that could only be described as smug annoyance. His arms were crossed, his head tilted.

"There he is," Adrian said with a wide grin. "Took you long enough. I was about to send in a search party. You constipated or what?"

Aiden froze, the words momentarily catching in his throat. He could see Adrian's eyes narrowing slightly, picking up on his hesitation.

"Uh…" Aiden scratched the back of his neck and looked away. "Yeah. Something like that."

"You know," Adrian said, catching up with a wide grin, "this will be the story I tell at your wedding one day. 'He looked death in the eye, but what really took him out was a number two.'"

"Shut up."

Adrian stared at him for a beat longer. "No shame, man. Happens to the best of us."

Before Aiden could respond, Sevan turned the corner, holding a cup of water and looking equally unimpressed.

"You were in there for nearly half an hour. Are you okay?"

Aiden could feel both their eyes on him now, watching closely, waiting for a reaction. There was a flicker of suspicion in Sevan's gaze. He couldn't tell them. Not yet. Not about the teleportation, or Lopt, or what he'd seen. Not when they were already acting overprotective.

He sighed and gave a sheepish shrug. "I think I ate something weird earlier."

Adrian chuckled and gave his back a light pat. "Man, you better hope it's not food poisoning. You've got a duel coming up."

"Yeah, yeah," Aiden mumbled.

Sevan handed him the cup. "Drink. You look like you saw a ghost."

Aiden took it and muttered a thanks, sipping slowly as the two of them flanked him, already walking with him back toward their room.

They didn't press him further. But he could feel it, their eyes occasionally glancing at him, their movements just a little closer, their pace matching his stride too perfectly.

Aiden kept quiet, forcing a laugh when Adrian joked about sealing the restroom door with a ward next time. But his thoughts were far away, back in a music-filled chamber that shouldn't exist… with a boy who always seemed to know more than he let on.