Chapter 38: Two Weeks Later
31, Piscaris - 3118 (Antiarena City)
Red Arena Academy
Zoya twisted her plump body closer to Zaara and whispered, eyes wide with gossip, "Zaara, I heard from Father that the delinquents who tried to kidnap Noel ... turned themselves in."
Zaara blinked. "Turned themselves in?"
Zoya nodded, lowering her voice. "They walked right into the Enforcement Force, completely terrified, trembling and battered. Father said they looked like they'd seen a ghost."
Zaara's brows furrowed. I didn't send my toy after them ... then what scared those bullies that badly?
As the two girls neared the academy's gates, they weren't in a hurry to leave. They stood off to the side, watching the wave of students pour out of the building.
Soon, a familiar flash of radiant red hair caught their attention. Noel skipped toward them, eyes bright.
"Noel, slow down," Zaara chided gently, her tone warm. "You're going to trip."
"I want biscuits again," Noel giggled, bouncing on her toes.
Zaara smiled. "Alright. Let's grab some before we head to the workshop."
"Count me in!" Zoya added, already licking her lips.
They joined the flow of dismissed students, passing through groups laughing and chatting. Among them walked a thin boy with downcast eyes and unruly dark hair. He looked eerily like Waker—only younger, more withdrawn, as if carrying a heavy weight.
Zaara's thoughts drifted back to the week before, when Zirak had submitted Noel's application to Red Arena Academy. To everyone's surprise, the approval had come almost instantly. But during her Awakening Ceremony, the truth became clear—Noel possessed no Essence Aspect.
Still, the academy accepted her into its general education track, where students without essence aspect trained in theory and foundational knowledge. It didn't seem to bother Noel at all.
After buying a few biscuits, Zoya returned home, waving cheerfully. Zaara and Noel dropped their schoolbags at home and headed out once more.
Aunt Amen's workshop had become part of their daily life.
Moments later, a black carriage drawn by two powerful, spiked horses arrived at their doorstep. Amen had arranged the transport especially for them. They climbed in and rode in silence, the clatter of hooves filling the air.
Upon arrival, the forge's warmth greeted them like a second home. They pushed open the door and called in unison:
"Assalamu Alaikum!"
"Walaikum Assalam!" Harith, Aunt Amen's oldest apprentice, waved from across the room. A sturdy young man in his twenties, he flashed them a smile.
Zaara stepped forward. "Brother Harith, what's today's assignment?"
Harith chuckled, scratching the back of his head. "Plenty. Go check your bench. It's already waiting for you."
Noel tilted her head. "Will teacher let us forge large components now?"
"If your foundation is solid," he replied. "But if you don't hurry, you won't finish today's task in two hours."
Aunt Amen had only three students—each with a personal workshop. She brought in pre-forged components, assigning the simpler ones to her apprentices while handling complex parts herself.
Zaara and Noel's workspace was in stark contrast to the soot-covered entry hall. Their workshop was clean, organized, and well-maintained—a reflection of the discipline they had learned.
On the bench lay raw materials and a rolled-out blueprint.
Zaara leaned in. "Machine armored palm joints," she murmured.
"Ten of them," Noel added.
They picked up their custom-forged Refined Light Tungsten Hammers, crafted during their first week under Amen's guidance. Moving to their stations, they fired up the furnaces.
Soon, the room echoed with the rhythmic clang of metal—like a melody of progress and precision.
Two hours passed in focused silence.
With a final, satisfying strike, they stepped back, wiped their brows, and admired the ten gleaming components arranged neatly on the bench.
They returned home in the same carriage. As soon as the door creaked open—
"Assalamu Alaikum!!" they shouted, already racing for the dining table.
"Walaikum Assalam," Zirak called from behind a newspaper. Without looking up, he added, "Wash yourself first."
The table was covered with steaming dishes—roti, curry, fried vegetables, and dessert. Their stomachs growled in unison. After a playful scuffle to be first at the sink, they settled in and ate to their heart's content.
Later, they performed ablution and offered Maghrib prayer, as was routine—even their academy allotted time for students to perform Dhuhr and Asr during school hours.
When night fell, the moon shone brighter than usual, scattered stars twinkling in a clear sky.
Zaara had already drifted off to sleep after offering her Isha prayer.
Zirak returned from the Masjid, placing his white cap gently on the dresser. As he stepped into the hall, he sensed movement.
Noel stood quietly by her door, her eyes lowered. She walked forward, hesitant.
"I … want to tell you something," she whispered.
Zirak offered her a gentle smile. "Let's take a walk outside. You can speak freely—once your heart calmed down."