"The court case will now proceed."
the judge intoned, his voice booming across the gallery like thunder. Judge Harlan, a stern elf with silver hair cascading down his robes, banged his gavel once, the sound reverberating off the vaulted ceiling. I, Prisca, sat as the class representative for Class E, my heart pounding in my chest. Beside me were Felix, Deborah, Naomi, and Paul—my trusted allies in this mess. We were here to defend Cain and Joel, two of our own caught in a web of accusations that had dragged on for weeks.
"As representatives of our houses," the judge continued, "the conflict between Cain of Class E and Joel of Class C must finally be concluded. The accusations of theft, of misuse of magic, of violence… must end today. Both sides, state your evidence."
Zachariah leaned toward me slightly, his voice low, sharp enough for only me to hear.
"I hope you came prepared today, Prisca," he said, his eyes cold. "I would hate to crush you so easily in front of everyone."
I met his stare, my lips curling into the faintest smile. "I don't waste my time worrying about people who are destined to lose."
His smirk widened, as though he was amused at a child's rebellion. "We'll see."
The gavel struck. "You may begin."
---
I stepped forward. My hands trembled slightly, but I forced them to stay steady. This was Cain's last chance.
Something felt off immediately. The king's throne at the far end of the courtroom sat empty, and his assistant, Gaius, was nowhere to be seen. The law mandated the king's presence for such high-stakes academy trials—especially ones involving magical artifacts like the crystal ball. Were they busy with royal affairs? Or was there something more sinister at play? I pushed the thought aside; I had to focus.
"Prisca, are you ready?" Zachariah asked, his tone laced with sarcasm.
I snapped back to attention, turning to the judge. "Sorry, Your Honor. During the last case, Cain was wrongly accused of stealing the crystal ball and abusing his authority. But all the accusations against him were false—nothing but lies fabricated to undermine Class E."
Zachariah leaned forward, his eyes narrowing. "If I may ask, Prisca, do you have any proof that he's innocent?"
"Yeah, I do," I shot back, my voice steady despite the knot in my throat. But as I scanned the room, I noticed Elijah were nowhere to be seen. My stomach sank.
Something was wrong.
But I couldn't hesitate.
And most of the other prefects were missing too. What was going on? A chill ran down my spine—this felt like a setup.
"Very well," Judge Harlan ordered. "Please proceed and show us your evidence."
I took a deep breath, stepping forward to the center podium. The courtroom hushed, all eyes on me. "Your Honor, members of the court, the entire incident stemmed from a misunderstanding—or rather, a deliberate deception. The crystal room where the alleged theft occurred wasn't what it seemed. It was an illusion, a masterful one designed to frame Cain and sow discord between our classes."
Murmurs erupted from the gallery. Felix shot me a thumbs-up from our bench, while Deborah nodded encouragingly. Naomi clutched her notes tightly, and Paul... Paul just sat there, his expression unreadable.
"An illusion?" Zachariah scoffed, crossing his arms. "That's a bold claim. Care to elaborate?"
I nodded, pulling out a small, glowing orb from my robe pocket. "I present to the court the Aetheric Echo Projection—a magical recording device attuned to the academy's mana streams. It captures not just visuals, but the underlying magical signatures, revealing truths hidden to the naked eye."
The judge raised an eyebrow. "Proceed with the demonstration."
I activated the orb with a whisper of incantation: "Reveal the veiled." A holographic projection shimmered into existence above the podium, filling the air with ethereal light. The scene unfolded: the crystal room as it appeared during the incident. Cain entered, looking confused, reaching for what seemed like an empty pedestal. But as the projection deepened, layers peeled away like onion skins. Ripples of illusion magic—swirling blues and purples—dissipated, revealing the crystal ball intact, hidden behind a veil of deceptive spells.
Gasps echoed through the courtroom. "See?" I declared, pointing at the projection. "The crystal was never stolen. It was cloaked in an illusion spell, likely cast by someone with access to high-level illusionary arts. Cain was innocent; he was manipulated into believing it was gone, and the abuse charges? Fabricated based on this false premise."
The gallery buzzed with excitement. Even some Class C students looked doubtful, whispering among themselves. I felt a surge of triumph—this was it, our turning point.
"To further support this," I continued, "I call upon my brother, Liorion, who has expertise in spatial and illusion magic as a senior academy scholar."
Liorion stepped forward from the witness stand, his tall frame clad in scholarly robes. He looked composed, but I caught the worry in his eyes—protective as always. "Your Honor," he began, his voice clear and authoritative. "I've examined the crystal room personally. The illusion was a 'Mirage Veil,' a spell that bends light and mana to create false absences. It's not something a novice like Cain could cast; it requires precise calibration, likely from someone with ulterior motives. The Aetheric Echo confirms this—the crystal ball's aura is undisturbed."
The courtroom erupted in shock. Students leaned forward, eyes wide. Judge Harlan stroked his chin thoughtfully. "This is compelling evidence, Prisca. The court notes the demonstration."
I glanced at Zachariah, expecting defeat in his eyes. But he was... smiling? A cold, calculated smile that sent alarm bells ringing in my head.
"Your Honor," Zachariah said smoothly, rising to his feet. "While this... theatrical display is entertaining, I must counter. Class C has uncovered the true nature of this 'illusion.'"
My heart skipped. What was he planning?
Zachariah waved his hand, summoning his own projection—a counter-spell that overlaid mine. "Observe closely. The Mirage Veil, as Liorion calls it, bears traces of Class E's own mana signature. Specifically, it matches Prisca's affinity for detection magic. This wasn't an external frame job; it was an inside ploy by Class E to discredit us and gain sympathy!"
The gallery gasped again, this time in confusion. His projection showed faint red threads—Class E's color—woven into the illusion. "Prisca orchestrated this to make Cain look innocent, but the spell backfired. We've analyzed it with our own experts, and the evidence is irrefutable."
I was speechless, my mouth dry. How? That couldn't be right. Liorion's face paled, his eyes darting to me with silent worry. This twist made my proof look like a desperate fabrication. The judge frowned, the tide turning.
"And to seal this," Zachariah continued, "I call upon Joseph, who has been assisting Class E but has come forward with the truth."
Joseph? Our ally? He stood from our bench, avoiding my gaze, and walked to Class C's side. "Your Honor," he said, his voice steady but laced with regret—or was it feigned? "I've seen the manipulations firsthand. Prisca pressured us to alter the Aetheric Echo. I can't be part of this lie anymore."
Betrayal hit like a dagger. The courtroom murmured in disapproval toward us. Class E was failing fast—our evidence discredited, our team fracturing. I caught Paul's eye; he was... smiling? A subtle, knowing smile. Had he betrayed us too? My mind raced—Paul had been quiet all trial, but if he was in on this...
Liorion whispered urgently from the stand, "Prisca, stay calm. We can fight this."
But the judge was leaning toward Zachariah. "This changes things. Class E, do you have a rebuttal?"
I opened my mouth, but words failed. The audience shifted, whispers turning to accusations. Class C was winning.
Then, Paul stood abruptly. "Your Honor, if I may interject."
All eyes turned to him. Zachariah's smirk faltered for the first time.
Peterson's voice was calm, almost casual. "While Prisca's evidence is strong, there's more to uncover. I've coordinated with neutral students from Classes A and D—without anyone's knowledge, to ensure impartiality. They conducted independent mana traces on the crystal room last night."
What? I stared at him, stunned. This was his backup plan—a secret alliance formed in the shadows. Peterson had always been the quiet , but I never suspected he'd weave this web. He'd approached James from Class A and Mira from Class D under the guise of casual study sessions, planting seeds of doubt about Class C's aggression. They agreed to help anonymously, using hidden scrying orbs to record fresh evidence, all without looping in me or the team to avoid taint.
"Present your findings," Judge Harlan said, intrigued.
Peterson activated a hidden rune on his sleeve, projecting new data. "These traces show the illusion's origin: not Class E, but a forged signature from Class C's own illusionist, hidden in their dorms. The red threads Zachariah showed? Counterfeits, planted to frame us. And Joseph? His 'testimony' matches a coercion spell detected in his aura—Class C's doing."
The revelations unfolded like a detective's climax. The projections displayed timelines: Zachariah's team entering the room hours before the incident, casting the initial veil. Joseph's coerced confession unraveled with a truth serum overlay, his eyes glazing as the spell broke in real-time.
The audience was stunned, gasps turning to outrage. Zachariah's face drained of color. "This is preposterous! Fabricated!"
But the evidence was ironclad—multiple angles, timestamps, and neutral witnesses stepping forward one by one. James from A confirmed the scrying, Mira from D the traces. No one knew it was Peterson s mastermind; he played it as a collective effort, his smile now one of quiet victory.
Class E surged ahead, the proofs clashing in a symphony of revelations. Both sides' evidence laid bare: illusions peeled, forgeries exposed, betrayals unmasked. The judge deliberated, the room electric with tension.
Just as Harlan raised his gavel for the verdict—
The doors burst open with a crash. A breathless guard stumbled in, face pale with terror. "Attack! There's an attack on the kingdom—and the school is under siege!"
The courtroom fell into chaos.
And in that chaos… Zachariah smiled again.