After several days spent carefully crafting her magnifying glass, Ruqayyah finally felt it was ready. The lens, smooth and perfectly curved, was wrapped delicately in a thin layer of silk. She had worked painstakingly, ensuring each curve and thickness was exact, and now, holding it in her hands, a sense of quiet pride settled in her chest. Today, she would test it at the Bayt al-Hikmah. She brought Layla along, partly for company and partly for courage; the great hall always seemed vast and intimidating to someone accustomed to smaller, quieter spaces.
The hall was alive with murmurs of scholars and students alike, scrolls and manuscripts scattered across desks and tables. Candles flickered gently, casting elongated shadows along the marble floors and vaulted ceilings. Ruqayyah spotted the elderly mathematician again, hunched over his work, eyes nearly pressed to the tiny script, squinting and muttering under his breath. Nearby, Faris copied a text meticulously, his posture disciplined, the pen moving with an almost meditative rhythm.
Ruqayyah approached the scholar cautiously, careful not to disturb the sacred hush of the hall.
"Sir… may I try something?" she asked softly, her voice carrying the politeness of a well-mannered student yet tinged with the confidence of someone certain in her purpose.
The man looked up, brow furrowed. "Try what, my lady?"
Without another word, Ruqayyah unfurled the silk wrapping, revealing the convex lens. She positioned it over the manuscript, letting the candlelight catch the stone just so.
The scholar froze, eyes widening as he peered through the lens. The blurred letters before him snapped into focus, each stroke sharp, clear, and larger than life.
"Subhanallah…" he whispered, barely audible, his hands trembling slightly. "I can read it… the letters—they have grown before my eyes!"
Nearby students, drawn by the sudden exclamation, leaned in, curiosity and astonishment brightening their faces. Layla stifled a laugh, half in delight, half in awe, covering her mouth with her hands.
Faris rose immediately, stepping toward them. He bent over the lens, inspecting it carefully, his sharp eyes scanning the curvature and clarity. Then, he looked at Ruqayyah, and for the first time, a subtle softness crossed his features. Curiosity and wonder mingled in his gaze.
"So… you truly did it, Lady Aisha," he said quietly, awe threading through his usual calm demeanor.
Ruqayyah drew a slow breath, holding it for a moment before speaking. "I only wished to help him read, nothing more." Her tone was modest, but firm, careful not to overstate her accomplishment.
Faris tilted the lens toward the light, studying the way it bent and focused the glow of the candles. "If you would allow it," he said, lowering his voice to a near whisper, "may I copy its design? So that others in need may also benefit?"
Ruqayyah hesitated. Part of her wanted to protect the invention, fearful of its potential misuse. Yet Faris's gaze was not greedy or demanding. It was deliberate, careful, almost reverent.
"I will permit it," she said finally. "Only if you exercise caution. This lens must not be displayed carelessly or treated lightly."
"Do not worry," Faris replied gently, bowing his head. "I know that not everyone is ready for such innovation. It will be handled with care."
Layla, ever observant and mischievous, couldn't resist a teasing comment. "Astaghfirullah… you two sound like you're negotiating a treaty between kingdoms!"
Ruqayyah shot her a warning glance, and Faris straightened immediately, suppressing a smile.
"This is no trivial matter, Layla," Ruqayyah replied, voice low and measured.
Layla raised an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at her lips, then returned to her own work, the echo of quiet amusement lingering in the hall.
As evening fell, lamps were lit across the expansive hall, their warm glow illuminating the worn stone floors and the polished wooden desks. Scholars began to depart, scrolls tucked under arms, some exchanging soft words while others lingered to finish notes. The atmosphere shifted from hushed intensity to a gentle, reflective calm.
Ruqayyah walked beside Layla toward the exit. The corridor walls were lined with shelves of manuscripts, the scent of parchment and ink mingling with the faint perfume of candle wax. The doors opened to the cool evening air, and a light breeze carried the distant sounds of the city beyond.
Faris appeared behind them, accompanied by two students. He paused, lowering his gaze respectfully before speaking in a quiet tone. "Sayyidati… may Allah protect the trust you bear today."
Ruqayyah glanced back for a mere moment, her expression calm, measured. "Amin. And may He protect you from betraying me," she replied evenly.
Faris blinked, surprised by her words, then inclined his head in silent acknowledgment. As he turned away, a faint, reluctant smile tugged at the corners of his mouth—so slight, he might have denied it existed.
Layla nudged Ruqayyah's arm, whispering with playful delight, "I've never seen him speak so gently, ever."
Ruqayyah feigned ignorance, though internally she was both bewildered and quietly relieved.
Then, a sudden notification flashed in her mind:
[Ding! Congratulations. The Poison-Detecting Ring has been placed in your room.]
[Ding! +30 affinity with Faris ibn Yahya. Reward: One gate opened. Note: Six gates remain.]
Ruqayyah's breath caught, lips parting slightly as her chest swelled with disbelief. Layla, noticing her shock, teased mercilessly. "Look at you! Your mouth's so wide it could hold half the Bayt al-Hikmah!"
Ruqayyah quickly snapped it shut, cheeks warming, while Layla laughed freely, the sound bouncing off the stone walls.
Once home, Ruqayyah went directly to her room, her hands trembling ever so slightly as she opened the package. Inside, the Poison-Detecting Ring gleamed with an almost ethereal light.
"What does this do?" she asked aloud, curious yet cautious.
The system's voice, calm and precise, answered:
[Reward: Poison-Detecting Ring.]
[Function: The stone embedded in the ring will warm or darken slightly when it comes into direct contact with poisonous food, drink, or plants. It does not detect at a distance—the ring must touch the substance.]
"Oh… this could be very useful," she murmured, turning the ring over in her fingers.
Another notification appeared, a new prompt flashing in her mind:
[Ding! Side Mission: Visit the Bimaristan.]
[Reward: Anti-Misfortune Power.]
Ruqayyah furrowed her brows, lips twitching. "Anti-misfortune power? What use could I possibly have for that?"
Before she could ponder further, a stern warning appeared:
[If you refuse this side mission, the main mission will fail.]
The weight of responsibility pressed heavily on her shoulders. She drew a deep breath, resolving herself to act. "Then… I must do it," she whispered, determination threading her voice.
Curiosity mingled with apprehension. "What sort of place is this Bimaristan?" she asked the system, seeking context before stepping into unknown territory.
[The Bimaristan is essentially a hospital of the past. In modern terms, you may call it a hospital—a place where the sick are treated, medicines prepared, and remedies administered.]
Ruqayyah exhaled slowly, steeling herself. She folded the silk wrapping of her magnifying glass carefully, placing it into her bag along with the ring, feeling the weight of her responsibilities like the quiet hum of the city beyond her window.