Zamira's birthday was approaching, and an odd excitement stirred inside her.
While waiting at the bus stop after school, she noticed a silhouette among the crowd—
a figure dressed entirely in black, almost fused with the shadows.
People moved around him, flowing like water,
yet no one seemed aware of his presence.
He, however, was unmistakably aware of hers.
His gaze was fixed on Zamira, radiating a surge of energy that washed over her.
Zamira tried to meet his eyes.
She wasn't afraid—because she sensed he was not merely a shadow or a piece of darkness.
From within that darkness, a warmth—a light—poured from his ice-blue eyes straight into her.
A voice echoed in her ears.
"Zamira…"
She held her breath, unable to look away.
Even wrapped in darkness, the sound of her name glowing in that deep tone ignited something inside her.
At that moment, she understood:
there might be another realm layered beneath the one she saw.
Another being… another reality.
---
Three days remained until her birthday.
Ever since seeing him in the shadows that evening, nothing felt the same.
She couldn't concentrate in class; every sound carried meaning now.
In the old book she found at the library, a line stood out:
"Jinn are the light within shadows."
But who would believe such a thing?
Who could understand what she had seen?
That night, she sat alone in her room.
The book still lay open on her desk.
A sudden breeze swept through, and the pages began to turn on their own.
The lamp flickered.
Something inside her whispered not to look—
but a soft murmur drifted through the window.
"Do not be afraid."
Zamira turned her head, yet saw no one.
Still, the air in the room had shifted—
grown denser, warmer, alive.
Then the light went out.
But the dark wasn't dark anymore;
a faint glow seeped from within it.
For a fleeting moment, she saw him again—
that silhouette, watching her,
ice-blue eyes shimmering through the shadows.
Her heart pounded, yet not from fear.
A strange warmth wrapped around her like an unseen embrace.
And then the voice returned:
"I did not choose you.
I heard you."
Zamira's lips parted, but no words formed.
Was this a dream?
Or something real—finally real?
The shadows receded,
the light flickered back on,
and she stood alone in her room once again.
The book on her desk remained open.
As she stepped toward it, she saw a handwritten note on the corner of the page.
"Nayel."