Year 3010, Month of Septa — Arka Calendar
The classroom buzzed with chatter—sixty desks, sixty chairs, and not a single moment of quiet.
Then the door opened. A middle-aged man stepped in, his presence light but commanding. He crossed the room unhurriedly, yet not a single voice stopped—until—
"Tok, tok, tok!"
The sound of a wooden eraser striking the board echoed sharply. Silence fell like a curtain.
"This is your seventh year in this school," the man said, his tone calm but edged. "How many times have I told you—no noise in class?"
No one answered.
He sighed softly, then continued, "We have a new student joining us this term. I expect all of you to welcome him and help him adjust."
Murmurs rippled across the room.
"A new kid?"
"In year seven?"
"Now? Seriously?"
"Who transfers in the middle of the year?"
"He's gonna be so behind."
In this small village, the only school rarely saw new faces—let alone a transfer student. The idea itself was almost mythical.
"Come in," the teacher called.
A boy entered, his steps measured, calm, and faintly detached. He walked up beside the teacher, eyes sharp but distant.
"Introduce yourself. This will be your class from now on."
"My name's Kael Arda Tirta. Just call me Kael."
That was it.
The room froze, and the silence stretched too long. You could practically hear their thoughts whispering in unison—
That's it? That's his intro? Who does this kid think he is?
"Try starting with where you're from," came a voice from one of the desks.
Ruby. The only one in that room who actually knew him.
"There's nothing special about it," Kael said flatly. "I live by the lake."
A girl in the front row raised her hand, her tone sweet but sharp-edged. "Sir, will he really be able to keep up? I heard about a boy who never went to school before. Is this… that boy?"
Another student laughed from the window seat. "Shouldn't he start in year one, then? Though that'd be kinda funny!"
Laughter rippled across the room, whispers blooming like weeds. Everyone but Ruby joined in.
The teacher glanced at Kael, giving him a small nod—as if saying handle this your own way.
Kael stared back, his expression unreadable. He had already expected this; Ruby had warned him just days ago that this was how it would go.
"Talk about what's in your head, Kael," Ruby had said. "Better that than let them make up stories for you."
Kael exhaled quietly and spoke again. "Do I need to prove I belong here?"
Ruby snorted, covering his face in amusement. Of course he'd say something like that.
The class erupted again.
"Can you even read?"
"What about math?"
"Do you know anything about arkanum?"
"Who skips six years of school and just shows up in seventh?"
The noise built until—
"Enough."
The teacher's voice cut clean through it. "Kael, take any empty seat you like."
He looked across the students. "As for proof—let's see it over time. Kael's here because he earned his place."
Kael walked down the aisle toward the back corner, by the window, and sat with an air of effortless disinterest.
"Sir, can I move next to him?" Ruby asked, hand raised high.
"If it helps him adjust, go ahead," the teacher said with a nod.
The room buzzed again with hushed whispers until—
"Quiet. Let's begin today's lesson."
Ruby took the seat beside Kael, and the day carried on.
---
For Kael, everything felt off. The lessons didn't match the knowledge his mother had taught him. The logic, the terminology—even the way arkanum was described—felt… simplified. Wrong, somehow.
By the end of the day, Kael sat still, staring out the window, thoughts churning beneath his calm exterior.
Mom… where are you?
When will you come back?
Do you still remember me?
Dad, why haven't you returned?
Do you even know she's gone too?
The bell rang. Kriiing!
Students burst from their seats, flooding the hallway in laughter and motion. Kael stayed behind, unmoving, while a few curious kids lingered.
"What do you want?" Ruby asked before they could speak.
"Relax, Ruby. We just wanna check something," said a brown-haired boy with sharp black eyes.
Kael shot him a glance, then turned back to the window.
"Check what?" Ruby replied.
"Do you always talk for him?" one of them teased.
Ruby rolled his eyes. "Fine, go ahead then."
Kael finally turned his head. "What is it?"
The boy smiled—warm, confident, unexpectedly kind. "Don't you wanna come outside?"
Kael blinked, caught off guard. That tone didn't match the tough look on the boy's face.
He followed the boy's gesture out the window. Below, the schoolyard stretched wide—kids running, playing ball, laughing under the sun.
"What am I supposed to do there?" Kael asked, half to himself.
"Stop thinking so much. You'll get it once you're there," the boy said, tugging gently at Kael's arm.
"Siro, wait—" Ruby started.
Too late.
Siro—the boy with the fierce face and the warmest soul—had already pulled Kael toward the field.
Why am I even going along with this? Kael wondered as his feet moved on their own. He didn't like crowds, yet somehow, he couldn't say no.
"Just kick the ball as hard as you can if it comes your way," Siro said with a grin once they reached the edge of the field.
Kael didn't think. He ran, he chased, he kicked.
When the ball came, he struck it with everything he had.
The ball flew straight and true—slamming into the goal. Cheers erupted. Arms clapped his shoulders, laughter rang around him, and Kael stood there—dazed, then smiling before he even realized it.
For the first time in years, he felt something new—something bright.
Joy.
The bell rang again, signaling the end of recess.
Students trickled back into the building, their laughter fading into the halls.
Ruby caught up to him, slinging an arm over his shoulder. "So? How was that?"
Kael looked thoughtful. "I… don't know."
But his eyes told a different story.
They returned to class, and the rest of the day passed quietly. Kael still stared out the window, but his thoughts had shifted.
What is friendship?
What is happiness?
Are laughter and joy the same thing?
The boy who once hid behind books and silence was beginning to build the foundations of something new—a way to see the world through more than study and solitude.
---
When the final bell rang, the hallways filled again with rushing footsteps and voices.
Kael stayed put, letting the room empty around him.
"Aren't you leaving?" Ruby asked, standing beside him.
"I'll wait till it's quiet. I hate the crowd."
Ruby sat back down, joining him in silence as the last of the students trickled out.
When the noise finally faded, Kael spoke without turning. "Tell me the truth."
Ruby blinked. "About what?"
"You've gone quiet. That's not like you."
Ruby chuckled, leaning back. "Maybe I've just realized I talk more to statues than people."
"What?" Kael snapped, eyes narrowing.
"I'm kidding, I'm kidding," Ruby laughed.
Kael sighed. "Forget it," he muttered, standing to leave.
"Wait," Ruby called after him, catching up. "It wasn't me who promised anything. It was my mom. She said… I should stay close to you."
Kael didn't answer.
Ruby grinned weakly. "See? Talking to you really is like talking to a statue."
Still, he followed him all the way to the gate, riding his bicycle a few paces behind.
"Why are you still following me?" Kael asked as they reached his yard.
Ruby smiled, eyes half closed, and pointed toward the house. "You'll see."
Kael frowned, pushing the door open.
Inside—he froze.
"Mrs. Lina?"
"Welcome home, Kael," said Lina with a motherly warmth, arranging dishes on the table. "Put your bag down and come eat. Everything's ready."
Ruby entered behind him, sheepish but smiling.
"Is it all set, Mom?" he called cheerfully.
"Is that how I taught you to greet people?" Lina scolded, hands on hips.
"Sorry, Mom," Ruby said quickly, slipping into a chair. "I'm home."
"Wait—what's going on?" Kael demanded. "You've been sending me food all this time, helping in secret—but now you just… show up? Why?"
Lina smiled gently. "A promise is a promise. You agreed to go to school—so now, I'll tell you what you've been wanting to know. At least, as much as I can."
Kael's breath caught. "What do you mean?"
"Later," she said softly, gesturing toward the table. "For now, sit down. Eat. And don't make me waste good food—I hate wasting what shouldn't be thrown away."
The words struck him like a whisper from the past.
That same tone.
That same phrasing.
For a fleeting moment, Kael could almost hear his mother's voice echoing through hers.
---
To be continued...