The Mystery Files - Chapter 1: The Birthday Summons

23Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ6EOgEMCTZM

“Ms. Noor Ain…”

“We've heard you're finally flying away from this wilderness.”

One of the senior site engineers smiled as he looked up from his tea beneath the large canvas canopy overlooking the construction site.

Noor Ain looked at him over the rim of her paper cup.

“Well… I wouldn't say I'm leaving because of the sun… or the sea… or even these mountains.”

Her gaze wandered across the rugged landscape stretching beyond the site.

“I actually find this place rather beautiful.”

Another senior site engineer, who had been studying a blueprint spread across the wooden table, paused and looked at her over his glasses.

“Beautiful?” he laughed.

“Come on, Ms. Noor Ain.”

“You know very well that, in our profession, this is considered one of the toughest postings in the country.”

He folded the blueprint and rested both palms on it.

“No young engineer wants to stay here.”

“At least not anyone around your age.”

He chuckled.

“Most of them apply for transfers within six months.”

He gestured toward himself and the others beneath the canopy.

“But we old fellows...”

“We're still here.”

A smile crossed Noor Ain's face.

“And why is that, Mr.Nasir ?”

He laughed.

“To be perfectly honest?”

“We're drawing the salaries and benefits of senior site engineers...”

“…despite the fact that some of us only hold engineering diplomas.”

He lowered his voice conspiratorially.

“And in a few cases…”

“…not even that.”

The men around the table laughed.

Nasir pointed toward several middle-aged supervisors scattered across the vast construction site, speaking confidently with contractors and laborers.

“See those gentlemen?”

“Most visitors assume they're engineers.”

“They aren't.”

“One used to be a mason.”

“Another was an electrician.”

“One began as a plumber.”

“And another spent years laying reinforced foundations with his own hands.”

He smiled with admiration.

“But give them a structural drawing... and they'll understand it.”

“Ask them to supervise a concrete pour... and they'll spot mistakes before many graduates do.”

“They've spent their entire lives building.”

Noor Ain followed his gaze.

“Yes, Mr.Nasir .”

“I know.”

She smiled warmly.

“And honestly…”

“I don't think anyone could say they aren't engineers.”

“They've lived this profession for so many years…”

“…that they've become the role itself.”

“Exactly!” another engineer exclaimed.

“They've carried the title for so long that everyone believes it.”

A third engineer laughed.

“Back in our day, Ms. Noor Ain…”

“…getting a forged certificate wasn't all that difficult.”

“But times have changed.”

He shook his head.

“Today, properly qualified civil engineers can't even find jobs.”

“My own son graduated in Civil Engineering from Port City.”

“He's been moving from one unpaid internship to another.”

He sighed.

“That's why I've been telling him to try his luck here.”

He smiled at Noor Ain.

“Now that you're leaving…”

“…perhaps a vacancy will finally open.”

Then, after a thoughtful pause, he added,

“Though I doubt he'll last six months.”

One of them looked at Noor Ain with genuine respect.

“But you, Masha Allah…”

“You've stayed here for three years.”

“In this heat.”

“In this isolation.”

“Everyone on this site respects you.”

He shook his head slowly.

“When you leave…”

“…I doubt we'll get another site engineer as competent as you.”

Noor Ain finished the last sip of her tea before placing the empty cup on the table.

“Haideron Tech is calling.”

A faint smile appeared on her lips.

“And honestly…”

“Who would say no to that?”

The conversation stopped almost instantly.

“Haideron Tech?”

Both engineers straightened unconsciously.

“Ms. Noor Ain…”

Nasir said hesitantly,

“May we ask you for a favour?”

She looked at him.

“We may not be engineers on paper…”

“…but we've spent our lives earning our bread honestly.”

“If you ever come across an opening at Haideron Tech…”

“…please remember our sons.”

“If even one of them gets into that firm…”

He smiled wistfully.

“…the sky's the limit.”

Noor Ain smiled apologetically.

“I don't think I'll be joining Haideron Tech immediately.”

Both men looked surprised.

“No?”

She shook her head.

“First…”

“…there's an important duty I have to fulfil.”

Neither of them asked what she meant.

Before either could speak again, Noor Ain glanced toward the sprawling construction site.

“I think…”

“…our duty is calling us.”

Both men smiled.

“Yes, Ma'am.”

They stepped out from beneath the shade of the canopy behind her.

The blazing sun welcomed them without mercy.

On one side, rugged mountains rose against the horizon.

On the other, restless waves from the Arabian Sea crashed endlessly against the rocky shoreline.

Noor Ain tucked the project file beneath her arm, adjusted the strap of her safety helmet, and walked toward the heart of the construction site.

Noor Ain bent over the highway drawings spread across the temporary site table.

Her finger moved slowly along the alignment before stopping near a section where the coastal embankment curved toward the cliffs.

"The retaining wall here..." she said quietly.

"Increase the reinforcement."

One of the junior engineers frowned.

"It already meets the design requirements, Ma'am."

"I know."

She looked toward the coastline.

"Reinforce it anyway."

She shifted to another drawing.

"And postpone tomorrow morning's earthwork near Chainage 18."

"Three hours should be enough."

The younger engineers exchanged uncertain glances.

Nasir Sahib simply folded the drawings.

"You heard Ma'am."

"Make the changes."

One of the newcomers couldn't help asking,

"Sir... is there a technical reason?"

Nasir smiled.

"There usually is."

"We just don't understand it until later."

Another senior engineer laughed softly.

"You're new."

"A few years ago she asked us to suspend excavation at another section."

"We ignored her."

"Two days later the geologists reported ground movement."

"We spent weeks repairing the damage."

He looked at Noor Ain.

"So nowadays..."

"...if she asks us to reinforce something..."

"...we reinforce it."

"And if she tells us to stop work..."

"...we stop."

A labour foreman chuckled.

"It costs less to trust Madam than to rebuild the highway."

The men laughed.

Noor Ain looked toward the mountains where the hot wind stirred dust across the unfinished road.

"Energies have their own language."

Her voice was almost a whisper.

"Most people never hear it."

"A few sense that something is changing..."

"...but cannot understand it."

She looked toward the distant cliffs.

"And only a rare few..."

"...can translate what those energies are trying to say."

No one spoke.

Nasir merely nodded.

"Whatever language Madam understands..."

"...this project has benefited from it more than once."

That evening, Noor Ain was resting in her room when there was a soft knock at the door.

Before she could answer, Sitwat Qureshi stepped inside.

An envelope rested in her hand.

"Noor Ain..."

Her voice was gentle.

"He has sent the tickets."

Noor Ain slowly sat up.

Sitwat placed the envelope beside her.

"We'll be flying this week, dear."

A brief pause.

"You have to be there a day before your birthday."

Noor Ain looked at the envelope without touching it.

Sitwat smiled faintly.

"He called me this afternoon."

"As usual..."

"...he was complaining that this place is far too harsh for his fragile princess."

She looked at Noor Ain affectionately.

"Little does he know..."

"...that although his princess may be physically fragile..."

"...she is a force to reckon with."

"My brave daughter."

A faint smile touched Noor Ain's lips.

"Brave?"

She shook her head.

"No,Ammi."

"If the world sees courage in me..."

"...it is only because of the love you and Baba have given me."

She lowered her gaze.

"The world only sees the façade."

"What goes on inside me..."

"...only you truly understand."

Sitwat stepped closer and tucked a loose golden strand of hair behind her ear.

"Now..."

"...we're not starting that again."

"And your Baba..."

A smile brightened her face.

"...is happier than he'll admit."

"He'll finally have his wife and daughter with him after so many months."

She laughed softly.

"Commissioner Sahib has already begun counting the days."

The smile returned to Noor Ain's face.

It faded just as quickly.

"Ammi..."

She hesitated.

"Have I been a very demanding daughter?"

Sitwat frowned.

"What kind of question is that?"

Noor Ain looked toward the window.

"Baba let you stay with me wherever life took us..."

"England."

"Malaysia."

"And now..."

"...three years in this place."

"You left the comfort of home..."

"...and Baba spent months away from you because of me."

Her voice grew quieter.

"You've both sacrificed so much..."

"...just so I could live the life I wanted."

"...just so I could follow my dreams."

Without a word, Sitwat poured a glass of fresh juice and handed it to her.

"May Allah accept our intentions."

Noor Ain accepted the glass with both hands.

Her golden eyes shimmered.

"I will always remain indebted to you and Baba, Ammi."

Sitwat immediately shook her head.

"No."

Her voice was absolute.

"Never say that."

She cupped Noor Ain's cheek.

"A mother's love is never a debt."

"Neither is a father's."

"Everything we have done for you..."

"...we have done out of love."

"A child is never expected to repay love."

Noor Ain's eyes filled with tears.

Outside, the evening breeze drifted in from the Arabian Sea, carrying with it the ruggedness of Zarkhaan.

Just then, the landline rang.

Sitwat picked up the receiver.

"Assalam-o-Alaikum..."

She listened for a few moments before turning towards Noor Ain.

"Just a moment."

Covering the mouthpiece, she looked at her.

"Noor Ain..."

"He wants to speak to you."

Noor Ain wiped the moisture from her eyes, slipped into her slippers and walked over.

She took the receiver.

"Assalam-o-Alaikum."

"My princess..."

The familiar voice was deep, heavy, overflowing with an affection that somehow never sounded entirely genuine.

"The place you've chosen to work..."

A faint laugh escaped him.

which sounded less like amusement and more like mockery.

"It doesn't even have proper internet signals."

"No reliable telephone network."

"And why should it?"

"Perhaps the coastal highway itself was waiting for your arrival before allowing its construction to begin."

Noor Ain didn't consider a reply necessary.

"You've completed three years there now... haven't you?"

"Yes."

Her reply was concise.

"Then I suppose this wilderness has finally had enough of my princess."

He chuckled softly.

"Now tell me..."

"...must I remind you that a poor man has been counting the days until your birthday?"

A familiar knot tightened inside Noor Ain's stomach.

Her fingers closed more firmly around the receiver.

"I was planning to resign."

A brief silence followed.

"Were you?"

There was unmistakable surprise in his voice.

"But first I'll have to return for my birthday."

She paused.

"Taking leave only to come back and resign a few weeks later doesn't seem very professional."

She said nothing more.

He waited.

When she offered no further explanation, he spoke again.

"Then resign before you come."

For a moment, his tone sounded almost reasonable.

"There is little sense in returning to that barren land..."

"...only to hand in your resignation a few weeks later."

Noor Ain found herself unable to disagree.

"And if you're worried that resigning before your birthday might seem unprofessional..."

He paused, as though considering the matter carefully.

"Then submit a week's leave."

"Come home."

"Celebrate your birthday."

"Fly back..."

"...hand over your responsibilities properly..."

"...and resign afterwards."

A faint chuckle followed.

"Surely that sounds more professional."

Before Noor Ain could respond, his voice regained its familiar certainty.

"Your leave will be approved."

"Do I need to remind you that my name bends rules and protocols?"

"It is tradition, Noor Ain."

"Your birthday belongs here."

She remained silent.

"The tickets must have reached you by now."

"Do not keep me waiting."

Then, as always, his voice softened.

Almost too much.

"And if you return after resigning from that wilderness..."

"...who could be happier than this poor man?"

A faint chuckle escaped him.

"Do you know why I wait so desperately for October?"

He answered before she could.

"Because there are a few precious days in October..."

"...when I get to see my princess where she truly belongs."

"In front of my eyes."

"In the place that has always waited for you."

A pause.

"Take care, Princess."

The line went dead.

Noor Ain remained standing, the receiver still pressed against her ear.

Every year, the birthday summons left the same heaviness inside her.

Memories surfaced without invitation.

Towering gates.

Carved stone pillars.

Endless corridors.

Magnificent gardens that somehow never felt welcoming.

An army of silent servants watching her every movement.

Grand fountains whose water always seemed strangely dark.

and the women of that house...whenever she walked past, they quietly pulled their sons closer, their eyes lingering on her with something suspended between fear and disdain.

Only her Baba and Ammi were treated with warmth.

And only one man ever seemed genuinely delighted to see her.

At least...

...that was how he appeared.

The same man whose voice had just echoed through the receiver.

She remembered birthday cakes.

Bright balloons.

Lavish gifts.

She remembered crying until Sitwat gathered her into her arms.

As she grew older, the unease became impossible to ignore.

The moment she crossed those palace gates, an invisible weight settled upon her chest.

The air itself felt different.

The shadows...

...almost alive.

When she turned fourteen, Sitwat finally told her the truth.

Noor Ain was different.

She sensed things other people never noticed.

Changes in the atmosphere.

Lingering emotions.

Presences that did not belong to the visible world.

Years earlier, when she had been barely six or seven, her Baba and Ammi had gently told her another truth.

They were not her biological parents.

Every year they took her back to the place where she truly belonged.

An obligation.

A promise.

She still remembered crying before one of those birthdays.

"I don't want to go there."

"My heart feels heavy."

"Shadows follow me."

"I hate those birthdays."

"I hate that house."

"It is the deal, dear," Sitwat had replied, gently resting a hand upon her head.

"This is the only time he could see you there."

"You belong there..."

"...but you were raised with us ."

"He knew you would never have survived your childhood in that house."

"Why you, Ammi?"

"Why did he give me to you and Baba?"

"Because I know how to protect you."

"And because your Baba is the only man he has ever trusted."

Another birthday was drawing near.

Tomorrow, perhaps for the last time, she would walk the coastal highway project...

Inspecting retaining walls.

Watching crane operators signal to one another.

Guiding engineers and labourers beneath the unforgiving sun.

Work had always been her refuge.

At the construction site, everything had limits.

Everything had structure.

Everything made sense.

The house that summoned her every October offered no such certainty.

Its grandeur concealed shadows.

Its beauty wore masks.

But …

She always went.

She always smiled.

She always accepted the gifts.

And she always counted the hours until she could leave.

No matter where life carried her—England, Malaysia, the deserts of Zarkhaan, or the shores of the Arabian Sea—the summons always found her.

Her mother had always called it duty.

Whether it was duty...

...or destiny...

Noor Ain had never been able to decide.

Her eyes drifted to the wall calendar.

October 2026.

To everyone else, it was just another month.

To Noor Ain...

October had never been ordinary.

Least of all, the twenty-second.

Author's note:This story is an original work by the author. AI was used only as a writing assistant for editing and langauge refinement.

I hope you will like and follow the work.

ns216.73.216.67da2

Reading Theme:

Font Size:

Line Spacing:

Paragraph Spacing:

Load the next issue automatically