The school corridors were a labyrinth of gleaming walls and soft, ambient lighting. Students moved in clusters, their voices echoing faintly as they discussed the day’s events. I walked alone, my bag slung over one shoulder, observing my new surroundings.
I made my way to the school garden, a serene oasis tucked away behind the main building. The garden was a lush expanse of greenery, with towering trees, vibrant flowers, and winding pathways. A small fountain bubbled in the center, its water shimmering under the sunlight. I found a quiet bench and sat down, pulling out the breakfast I had packed earlier—a neatly arranged omelette and sliced apples.
As I ate, I let my mind wander. The garden was peaceful, and the weather was just right—neither too hot nor too cold. But my solitude didn’t last long.
“Zahara!”
I looked up to see a tall, caramel-skinned boy striding toward me. He was strikingly handsome, his tailored black pants and white shirt school uniform fitting him perfectly. His sharp features and confident demeanor drew the attention of nearby students, who stopped to watch the interaction.
“Jabali!” I heard an excited student scream. That was a Swahili name, meaning “rock,” I guessed it was the boy’s name. It suited him—strong and a little intimidating.
He stopped in front of me, his dark eyes narrowing as he crossed his arms. “What’s this I hear about you choosing History as your major?”
I raised an eyebrow, taken aback by his tone. “Yes, I did. What about it?”
Jabali let out a frustrated sigh. “Look, if this is about me, just stop. I already told you—I’m not interested. I have someone I love, and I won’t be tied to you just because our families are close.”
I stared at him, bewildered. Who did he think he was? I wasn’t the real Zahara, and I certainly hadn’t been pining over him. The arrogance in his voice was almost laughable.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” I said, my tone calm but firm. “My choice has nothing to do with you.”
Jabali’s expression faltered for a moment, but he quickly recovered, his lips curling into a smirk. “Sure, whatever you say. But let me give you some advice—change your choice while you still can. Don’t disappoint your parents just because you’re trying to prove a point.”
I shrugged, turning my attention back to my breakfast. “Thanks for the advice, but I’m good.”
His smirk faded, replaced by a look of irritation. “You’re being ridiculous. Do you even know what you’re throwing away?”
“I know exactly what I’m doing,” I replied, meeting his gaze. “And I don’t need your approval.”
Jabali stared at me for a moment, his jaw tightening. Then, without another word, he turned and walked away, his footsteps echoing sharply on the garden path. The students who had been watching quickly dispersed, their whispers growing louder as they left.
I finished my breakfast in silence, my mind racing. Jabali’s outburst had been unexpected, but it had also revealed some information to me. From his words, I could infer that his family and mine were close. However I didn’t want any entanglements; it was better not to be tied to him in any way.
When school ended, I returned home in the Zephyra-6, the sleek craft gliding effortlessly through the sky. The journey was short, and soon I was stepping into the quiet solitude of my room. I took a quick shower, wrapped my hair in a bonnet, and settled onto the bed with my Terminal—a futuristic device that served as both a computer and a communication tool, operated by the neural chip in my brain.
The screen lit up, displaying a list of missed calls from Zahara’s parents. I sighed, knowing they had already heard about my choice of major. But before I called them back, I decided to do some research.
I navigated to the Federation’s database and searched for information about the different fields of study. What I found was both enlightening and unsettling.
In Aetheris, the field you chose determined your entire career path. The Federation had the right to assign you to a specific region—A, B, C, or D—based on your major, and there was no room for change once assigned. Once you were placed, you were expected to dedicate your life to that role.
I clicked on the History and Ancient Findings sector. The description was brief and uninspiring. Most historians worked in libraries or created educational videos for the Federation’s archives. Their work was considered low-priority, and their salaries reflected that. There were no high-ranking positions, no opportunities for advancement—just a quiet, uneventful life.
In contrast, the Scientific Research sector was the pinnacle of success. Scientists held top positions in the Federation, their work shaping the future of Aetheris. Some were even involved in mining Aetherium, the rare mineral that powered everything from the Aetherial Veil to the Zephyras.
I paused, my curiosity piqued. I searched for more information about Aetherium. The mineral was described as a miracle substance, capable of manipulating energy on a subatomic level. It was the foundation of Aetheris’s advanced technology, from the neural chips in every citizen’s brain to the weapons used by the Federation’s military.
As I scrolled through the data, I stumbled upon something unexpected—my parents’ names. They were listed as top researchers in Region C, currently working on the development of Aetherium-powered weapons. The revelation left me stunned. Zahara’s parents weren’t just scientists; they were among the most influential figures in Aetheris.
Before I could process the information, my Terminal buzzed with an incoming call. It was my mother.
I took a deep breath, masking my nervousness, and answered. “Hello, Mother.”
“Zahara,” her voice was warm but tinged with concern. “We heard about your choice of major from your teacher. Are you sure about this?”
“Yes, I am,” I replied, keeping my tone steady and natural. “I’ve thought it through, and this is what I want to do.”
There was a pause, and then my father’s voice joined the conversation. “We just want to make sure you’re not making a hasty decision. The Scientific Research sector offers so many opportunities.”
“I know,” I said.
Another pause, and then my mother sighed. “Alright, Zahara. If this is what you truly want, we’ll support you. We just want you to be happy.”
I felt a surge of relief—and a pang of guilt. I wasn’t their daughter, not really. “Thank you. That means a lot to me.”
“We love you,” my father added, his voice softening. “And we’re proud of you, no matter what you choose.”
“Starting tomorrow, don’t go back to school until your results are out,” my mother said. “We’ve contacted a very professional tutor from Region C. She’ll be taking you through everything connected to the history of Aetheris.”
I was immediately touched. These parents really loved their daughter. They had even thought ahead and never intended to hinder her.
The call ended, and I leaned back against the pillows, a small smile on my lips. For the first time since I had awakened in this world, I felt a sense of peace. I had lost my parents at a young age and struggled in a country where your background played a huge role in your journey to success. It had been a long time since I had someone care for me to this extent. It was foreign, but not unwelcome.
With all the events that had happened in this single day, I was drained and tired. Coupled with the new environment, sleep quickly took over me.
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