The Death of Alia Rahman

Date: Monday, October 17th, 2020

Bleu sat in her classroom, and waited for her teacher to come, like the other students. She waited patiently, fixing the front of the class with her unwavering stare of glass. Every other girl in the classroom was talking, wondering how it is that their Professor would be late.

Bleu started to wonder that herself. This teacher had never been absent, never been late, in the five years that she has frequented this school. Especially given Miss Rahman’s disciplined personality and temper, this was quite an event.

Miss Rahman was the one chiding students when they were late. She was the one lecturing students about responsibility, discipline, dignity, self-control. Respect. She was the one teaching little girls how to behave. Her being late was as inconceivable as Christmas in July. And yet, thirty minutes passed without her crossing that class entrance. “Where is Miss Rahman?”, yelled one girl.

“Is she absent? Couldn’t she have picked another day?”, inquired another.

Bleu had to listen to those kinds of comments for the past thirty minutes. Some of her classmates were being impatient, but some others, like her, were genuinely concerned.

Everybody held their breath as the door to the classroom opened, and someone stepped in, but not whom they were expecting. It was a man. And by the look of the white robe he wore atop his black suit and tie, a magistrate. He paused after opening the door, and slowly walked towards the front desk, cutting through the heavy silence that plagued the room. He turned towards the student, and undertook the heavy task of delivering news that would forever alter their lives.

“Miss Rahman will not be coming to class. She has been found dead on the floor of her apartment late last night.” The news struck the entire class like a knife twisting through a wound. Bleu looked at the magistrate with an unwavering stare, and although she was profoundly troubled by these news, managed to keep her calm. Other students were not so fortunate.

The limp corpse of Miss Rahman lied on the floor of her apartment entrance hall, the red colour of dry blood having stained her white blouse near her heart, her legs folded under her grey skirt, her glasses broken in two, her hands lying on the ground, near her appalled face. Her black hair was completely undone, as if she had gone through some ordeal. She was surrounded with coroners and police officers, her entire room being scrutinized to find evidence.

“It would seem she was dealt a fatal blow to the heart with some sort of… weapon”, the magistrate went on, despite the tears and protests of some girls in the classroom. “It was a murder. That is all we know for now.”

He waited for everyone in the classroom to deal with their emotions in their own way, and leaned his back against the desk behind him.

“Your class is adjourned. The school is closed for the day. Her funeral will be held at the beginning of November, at a date we have yet to precise. We invite the entire school to assist.”

Bleu kept on looking at the magistrate with her cold gaze, showing indifference, betraying profound sadness.

Arch-magistrate Elrun was standing in his office, eyes looking past his glass window to the far distances, hands behind his back. Two spheres of pure white energy floated around him, at a short distance from his body, in a fast and erratic fashion.

The door to his office was opened, and a light blue robed woman entered the room. She walked and stopped in front of the arch-magistrate’s desk, bowed slightly, then went on to explain the reason of her presence.

“The other magistrates are quite worried about this situation, and we’re all wondering what our response should be”, said the female magistrate in a low-pitched voice. “Who could have done this?”, the woman asked.

The arch-magistrate did not answer for a few moments, keeping his silence, looking through the window. “There has been a series of murders like this one for some time now, in a few cities. Berlin, Paris, Geneva, Monaco. The killings are not simultaneous, they happen one city at a time, one victim at a time.”

He remained silent still, the two white spheres continued their fast and erratic way around his body.

“All victims were killed in the same fashion. One strike with some sort of blade, to the heart. This is the work of one man. Some renegade with a vendetta towards magic users.”

Magistrate Airin took a step forward, visibly annoyed.

“Why? Where can we find him?”

“I do not know his identity, and his motives are unclear”, Arch-magistrate Elrun replied, still looking through his window, never turning around to face Mrs. Airin. “He acts in the shadows, he knows how to conceal himself. He targets all who are not pure humans”.

Magistrate Airin was surprised, and a bit amused. “He wishes to fight the four races of magic users?” She sneered. “What a fool.”

“At that he is”, Elrun agreed. “But he killed a Professor of this school. If I ever encounter him, I will make him regret his actions. However, for now, we can only put our students and staff under surveillance, and wait. In time, we will uncover his identity, and his motives will be made clear. If he ever attacks one of us again, we will interfere.”

He then went on to conclude: “However, should he attack other magic users who are not part of this School… May God have mercy on their souls.”

Airin anticipated her superior’s thoughts. “You have an idea who he is, though.”

“Yes”, he replied with his old yet powerful voice, still looking out the window of his office. With this answer, Airin waited for the man to elaborate, and, seeing as this conversation was seemingly over, she bowed slightly, and showed herself out, closing the door behind her. Another magistrate, a young male this time, with short brown hair and a black robe on top of his dark gray suit and tie, was waiting for her outside the office.

“So?”, he asked.

Airin did not answer, but rather frowned.

Yusuke’s father took a sip of his cup of coffee, sitting at the kitchen table across from his son and guest. Yusuke bore a serious look, while Orchid looked a little distraught.

“And this man did not attack you, you say?”, he asked. Yusuke nodded positively.

The sky outside the house, as could be seen looking out the windows, was red, as the sun was setting.

They returned home after the announcement that their school was closed, and had been pretty silent ever since.

“But he might be the one that killed that Professor of yours”, the father said while looking at them. Yusuke nodded again.

“I heard about a serial killer like that… This isn’t the first murder executed in this fashion this year in Tokyo. It’s just the first one you guys heard about, since it was so close to home. It seems unlikely these murders will stop, even if you don’t hear about them.”

“What did you say to him?”, the father asked, drinking his coffee.

“Nothing. I was scared.”

The father put his cup of coffee on the table and looked at his son with a bit of shame. And surprise. But mostly shame.

“You were scared?”, he said in a clear and reproachful tone. Neither Yusuke nor Orchid, sitting one close to the other, answered. “You have been taught how to defend yourself since you were a child, and you were scared?”, the father continued in the same clear and reproachful tone. “Why am I even bothering to keep her here, I might as well pack her bags and send her back to Tanaka.”

“No!”, both Yusuke and Orchid shouted with emotion, although Yusuke later wondered why he had objected with such vigor.

“I love my daddy…”, Orchid started. “But I love you too, uncle!And Yusuke as well!”, she yelled, not noticing how loud her voice was. Her eyes moistened. “I made friends here, Gwen, Hitomi… I don’t want to go back!”

Her voice broke with emotion. She found refuge in Yusuke’s chest, who surrounded her with his arms. Her tears lightly wet his shirt. Yusuke’s father remained silent for a while, pensive, drinking the rest of his coffee.

“I’ll call the school’s magistrates tomorrow and ask them what they intend to do about this…”

The days passed by, the leaves kept on falling, and the trees became barer every day. The atmosphere in the School of Magic was gloomy. Everyone tried to live their lives normally, but something in their heart was missing. Those who knew Miss Rahman were robbed of a powerful role model. The others, like Orchid, sulked in their dislike of death.

“Tell me, do you wish to protect his girl?”

“If so, you will need to be a lot stronger than you currently are. Otherwise, you will just end up dying. And so will she.”

These phrases haunted Yusuke like a refrain as he practiced his art on a punching bag, suspended in the middle of the training hall of his house. He kicked and punched until his fists bled, until his muscles were sore. Orchid stood up from the door of her room and watched the scene, with compassion, understanding, worry, and the lack of courage to interfere.

Date: Monday, November 1st, 2020

The trees were no longer a sight to behold. The grass froze under the chilling winds of the winter that was forthcoming, burnt from lack of maintenance. The students of the School of Magic and the School of Arts were gathered in a cemetery to witness the last moments of Miss Rahman’s unburied corpse.

They were gathered around her tomb, listening to a magistrate as he prayed for her safety, wherever she was headed. All were solemn, and those who knew her personally, and revered her like a second mother, were grievous.

Orchid, wearing a black dress, as was her new habit during a sad moment, took refuge in Yusuke’s chest, but did not cry. She was sad, but today, too strong to cry. With final words of the magistrate, Miss Rahman’s tomb was buried into the ground, and all kept in their hearts the words of those who spoke respectfully of her life’s accomplishments as they headed back home. And all vowed to honour, during the remainder of their lifetime, the truths she had tried to instill her students in her teachings. Discipline. Dignity. Respect.

Fact sheet: Alia Rahman Characteristics: Academic specializations: Magic channeling practicum, rhetoric and languages Date of birth: 4th of November 1981 Blood type: A Hair style: Long black hair, often tied. Height: 150 lbs Weight: 5′5 ft About Alia Rahman: Miss Rahman used to teach magic channeling practicum in the 7th and 8th grades, and rhetoric and languages in the 9th grade. She is a very strict teacher, and tries to discipline the young girls frequenting the Orchid School of Magic so they may grow to become dignified young ladies. She does not tolerate lateness, incompetence, or impudence, and punishes harshly those who make those offenses. However, she does not punish for the sake of punishing, but for the young girls to learn how to behave in the world, and knows when to reward her students with compassion and recognition.

A Sunni Arab born in Saudi Arabia, she studied and taught at King Saud University in Riyadh. She then became a Professor for the Japanese Orchid School of Magic, a job she loved, and never regretted taking on. She is unmarried, and has no children. She made vows to a man, however. Her family, and would-be husband, had she survived, remained back in Saudi Arabia, where she returned during her summer vacations.

Alia is an Arabic name which bears the meaning of exalted, of the highest social standing.