Chapter 36: The Quiet Pulse
Zaara awoke early—long before the sun had touched the rooftops of Antiarena City. A faint glow from the hanging sky-lanterns still lingered outside the window, painting the room in sleepy shades of violet. Beside her, Noel lay curled beneath the blanket like a cat, breathing softly, still and serene.
For a moment, Zaara simply watched her.
She looked peaceful. Almost too peaceful. Too still and too quiet. But then again ... she always seemed that way.
Zaara slipped out of bed without a sound. She performed her ablution and offered the Fajr prayer in the stillness of before dawn. As she raised her hands, she prayed not only for strength and guidance—but also for the girl sleeping in her room. This time, she added something more: a quiet plea for clarity. Something about Noel tugged at the edges of Zaara's thoughts—something unanswered.
By sunrise, Zaara stepped outside, inhaling the crisp morning air. The streets were mostly empty, dotted only with early workers and the flutter of delivery birds overhead. She made her way to the local apothecary to gather herbs for her teacher's tea, enjoying the peace of the quiet city.
When she returned, she found Noel sitting on the veranda.
She hadn't made a sound—but she was awake. Her eyes were fixed on the rising sun.
Zaara blinked. "You're up."
Noel didn't speak but nodded slowly. Her gaze remained locked on the horizon, her expression distant. Like she was watching something that wasn't there.
Zaara sat down beside her. "Do you remember anything about where you came from?"
A long pause followed. Then Noel spoke, her voice quiet and low.
"There were lights … red, yellow, and blue. And snow as well. Then … there was just silence."
Zaara turned, surprised. "That's the most you've ever said."
Noel blinked, staring at her hands. "I think I lived in a forest once. But … it's gone now."
Before Zaara could ask more, the front door creaked open.
Zirak stepped out, dressed like a chef and ready for the day. "Come inside. Breakfast is ready."
After breakfast, Zaara was gathering her things for the academy when Zirak called to her.
"Zaara," he said, "you've chosen the path of an Essence Wielder, and I'll support you fully. So tell me—what do you really want to become after you graduate?"
Zaara tilted her head, then smiled without hesitation. "I want to become a Mecha Essence Wielder."
Zirak raised an eyebrow, clearly surprised. "A Mecha Wielder, huh?"
She nodded brightly.
He looked at her for a moment longer before replying, his voice quieter.
"If only you knew the history your father had with mechas … but never mind."
Zaara frowned, unsure of what he meant. But Zirak changed the subject.
"Do you remember Aunt Amen?"
Zaara's face lit up. "Isn't she the one who visited us once? The tall, scary one?"
"That's her," Zirak chuckled. "She's one of the best blacksmiths I've ever met. If you're serious about becoming a Mecha Wielder, you'll need a second profession. I think forging suits you. If you can pass her test, she might take you as an apprentice. Are you interested?"
Zaara's eyes sparkled. "Absolutely! When do we start?"
"I'll pick you up after academy."
Essence Wielders didn't study essence control every day. Their curriculum alternated with Cultural Classes. Today was one of those days.
Zaara paid close attention during her lessons. She was smart and curious, always asking thoughtful questions—and by the end of class, she earned praise from her teacher.
Afterward, outside the academy gates, Zirak waited for her, hands hidden under the sleeves, eyes half-closed in thought. His mind drifted to the day Zaara had first entered the academy at her awakening day. Then, as often happened, his thoughts shifted to Ravi.
And beside him—silent and unnoticed—stood Noel.
She had followed quietly, without disturbing anyone. She had a strange way of doing that, slipping between spaces like smoke.
Then she spoke.
"Uncle … why do people pray?"
Zirak was caught off guard. He turned to look at her.
"To seek strength," he answered, "guidance, and protection. And ... to thank the one above for everything."
Noel tilted her head. "Does it always work?"
Zaara answered. "Not always in the way we expect. But it helps us, even in the life after."
Noel gave a small nod. "Then I'll try."
She closed her eyes, mimicking Zaara's earlier posture. Her lips moved silently. No words came out—just breath. Steady and calm.
Zirak didn't interrupt.
In that moment, he didn't see a mystery. Or a threat. He saw only a little girl—fragile, quiet, trying to find her way.
Just like Zaara.