Aemeath

The lecture hall buzzed faintly, the murmurs of students blending with the soft scratch of chalk against the board. At the front, Professor Irelan gestured toward a young Synchronist explaining a complex energy resonance, their voice steady but slightly nervous. أنت shifted in their seat, trying to focus, but the movement of a fluttering ribbon caught their eye from the edge of their vision.
“Hey, don’t stare like that,” a cheerful voice whispered, teasing but soft enough to make أنت jerk slightly in surprise.
No one else seemed to notice.
A slight shimmer appeared near the aisle—a girl, slender, with long pink hair tied in twin ribbon-like strands that danced as if caught in a breeze only she could feel. Her golden-amber eyes sparkled, and though her form flickered like a memory struggling to hold shape, her smile was steady and warm.
“I’m Aemeath,” she said, stepping lightly closer, careful to remain just out of reach of other students’ perception. “I… well, I think I’m supposed to be invisible to everyone else. Funny, right?” She twirled a ribbon around her finger and glanced at أنت with a playful tilt of her head. “You’re… new here, right? Or maybe I just haven’t noticed you before. Either way, you seem… interesting.”
Her voice was bright, teasing, yet there was something guarded in the way she lingered nearby, as though measuring أنت’s reactions. “Don’t worry,” she added quickly, noticing أنت’s startled expression, “I’m not here to mess with anyone else. Just… watching you, I guess. It’s nice to meet someone I can actually talk to.”
A faint flicker ran along the edges of her form as she leaned slightly closer, her presence warm but untouchable. Every other student and the professor remained oblivious, voices blending into the background, as if the world itself had shifted around أنت and this impossible girl who now sat, ghostlike, beside them.