Chapter 11 ∞ Melancholy

The talk of dimensions, the three fates, and the Deliverers had given me much I needed to know about this world. I realized that, no matter how old my soul and consciousness, I was still a child. In this world that I didn't know about, my previous life might not be of much use. What was the use of having memories, having this much level of awareness, if not to suffer and pine after the life I now don't have? I've read novels regarding reincarnation and transmigration but they didn't detail on the melancholy and regret I was suffering at the moment. They all seem to just…move on so fast.

I sat under the tree Veronika left me under. It was close to a few hours ever since and the sun had dimmed from the sky. I hadn't heard my name called once save for the curious eyes occasionally peeking from the nearby window. I noticed my mistresses were worried.

I assumed they were doing this to teach me something.

Sitting in silence by myself—what was that supposed to do? Would that help me connect with the three different dimensions? Was I supposed to be chanting something here?

This wasn't so bad. Once in a while, I still had the odd craving of bringing out a phone to scroll through Facebook—but they didn't have that here, did they? I got over that after some time, but I couldn't help but wish I had that kind of connectivity like back in my old world sometimes.

When night finally came, my mother Hellenia crossed the bridge from the other side of the pond and knelt before me.

"Evy," she began. "Are you hungry yet, darling?"

I nodded.

"Come on." She beckoned. "Service hours will begin soon. We'll resume this tomorrow, alright?"

"What about Mistress Veronika?" I asked. "Won't she scold me?"

"Of course not. You did nothing wrong." My adoptive mother patted my head. "How can anyone be angry with you, Evy?"

"I hope I didn't disappoint anyone," I said.

"It's okay. Don't worry about anything. Now, come on."

She lifted me to my feet and guided me back to the House. Mistress Veronika was waiting for me by the porch, hands crossed and face blank. I dreaded coming up to her with the look she had on her face and, for a moment, I thought she would be giving me a dissatisfied stare—she had that effect on people, I guess. Or maybe it was because of her resting bitch face?

"I'm sorry, mistress," I told Veronika. "I don't think I got what you were making me do."

"It's alright," she said, kneeling. "The weeping willow is a special place. Perhaps you'll find out next time."

A special place?

I was fed a plate of roast chicken and fried potatoes before I was escorted back to my room. Service hours would begin very soon. The residential part of the Oblivion was locked, as usual, and the mistresses all headed to the entertainment hall which sat a good distance away. I was left in the care of the blind Safia, a middle-aged woman who came in when needed to help watch over me—which was a little ironic. Yet, in spite of her disability, the woman was as sensitive as they come.

I watched through the window as the fairy lights came to life and the garden became illuminated with the promise of an eventful night. Faint music began rolling and my caretaker reached forward to close the windows.

"Come, Evyionne," she told me, reaching for the knobs of the windows. It took her a second to find them but pulled them close swiftly and gracefully. "While your mistresses are working, you must stay inside."

"Why?" I asked although I really knew the answer to that.

"That isn't the world you should be in at the moment, child," she told me. "They will show you in due time. Now let us go to your room. Would you mind helping guide this woman?" She tapped on the floor with her cane and smiled at the space ahead of her, even though I knew it was for me. "I'm sure you have a lot of questions for me tonight."

"I got something new I'm working on," I said.

"Oh, really? What about that book you were reading?"

"I finished it last week!" I exclaimed cheerily.

"Well, then, show your auntie."

I helped her through the halls and entered my room.

"Is the window open?" she asked me.

"Mistress Veronika told me to air out my room," I said.

"Yes, your room does smell…strongly."

"Would you like a pillow?" I offered, placing it on the floor for her to get comfortable on.

"Thank you." She took knelt on the pillow and placed her cane on the space beside her. Safia sniffed. "Vanilla, roses. If I'm not mistaken…violets, too."

"Wow, how did you know that?"

"I have a keen nose, child. Now close your windows. Tell me what it is you've been busy with."

"Last week, mama and I went out of the Oblivion to take a test in the War College. You won't believe what happened!" I reached up to close my windows, shutting them tight and retreating to my desk in the corner.

I continued chatting away to Safia as I worked about my tools. The bottles clinked and I shuffled about busily as I resumed my work with the oils. Safia was a patient listener and I knew she was paying attention to everything I was saying. I blankly began to narrate about our day out last week and what I have been busy with, occasionally falling silent as I concentrated on my current project.

"Safia," I began.

"Yes, child?"

"Is it true that blind people have better hearing than others?"

She chuckled. "No, Evyionne. That is not true."

"But you seem to always know what I'm doing even if you don't see what I'm doing," I told her as I funneled the oil into a dark bottle and shook it around, after which I began to add the alcohol. It would act as a preservative.

"We just learn to listen and pay attention better," she said. "Sometimes, the more you see, the less you perceive. When you learn to focus and observe, you will realize you miss a lot of things. It doesn't take only the eyes to see, after all."

I rolled my shoulders and rose from my corner with the bottle in hand. I padded over to the woman, tracing her wrinkles forehead and creased eye corners with my gaze before reaching up to offer the bottle to her. "Tell me what you think."

She lightly leaned towards the scent and took a few whiffs. She smiled. "Evyionne…I do not know what to say. It is exquisite."

This was one of the scents my mother from my previous life cocktailed. After taking a week, I finally have a similar output. It was still a tinge different, though. I don't think I would be able to find strictly similar replacements with the ingredients she used on hers. On the other hand, I felt this scent had its own charm. It had a stronger, more lasting finish compared to my mother's brew and it had a more sensual curve upon hitting the nose.

"Where did you pick this up, child?" she asked. "It smells wonderful!"

"Thank you." I grinned wide with victory.

"May I smell it again?"

I passed her the bottle and she took a long and deep breath.

"What were you thinking when you made this?" Safia inquired.

My mind zeroed back to the moment my previous life's mother conceived this scent. She had that look in her eyes that said she was content in her creation—a feeling I knew was hard to come by. Being a perfectionist, she pursued the height of her craft even when she wasn't widely recognized for it.

'I think of a flower,' I remembered her saying. 'One that blossoms even more beautifully each day in a race against eternality. You. You are my flower. Ever beautiful, ever strong.'

Before I knew it, a tear fell down my cheek. I took a breath when I felt the warmth stroll down my chin. I wiped my face with my sleeve and sighed softly. Safia lowered the bottle to the side and wrapped her arms around me. She was probably wondering why I was crying when I obviously didn't have a reason to. I knew it wouldn't make sense to her, though, even if I explain and tell the truth.

"Shh. It'll be alright, child."

I somehow fell asleep after that. I wasn't sure if it came with the age, but I tire so easily. I don't remember anything afterwards. I stirred in the darkness, perhaps hours later, to the sound of voices whispering by my door.

"I think you pushed her a little too far today." I recognized my adoptive mother's voice, Hellenia, talking. "Safia told me she fell asleep crying for no apparent reason."

"I'll apologize, Hellen, if that's what you want from me," Veronika replied. "But you're overreacting. We kept watch over her the whole day. She was under no danger and you've got to stop worrying too much all the time."

"You're right, I'm sorry. I'm blowing this out of proportion," she whispered. "I'm just really worried." I heard the door shift and creak a little. I took a small peek and found her peering through a gap. "After the results last week…" She took a deep and shaky breath, withdrawing.

"It'll be alright, Hellen. If anything, Evyionne is way ahead of anyone her age. We'll figure this out. For now, we will do what we can do and that is to keep her safe. Do you understand?"

My adoptive mother sniffed.

"Move away from the door. You might wake her." I heard the door click close.

Dude, you already did.

I shifted in bed and rolled to my side, facing the window part of my room. I wasn't stupid to not know what that meant. Whatever they were talking about wasn't just any problem. If this had something to do with that dragon symbol I saw from last week, then perhaps I ought to find out about it. I knew where to find the books but that would mean climbing up the ladder. My adoptive mother would kill me if she saw me going up that high.

I don't know why it even took me this long to act. The perfuming excited me too much that it slipped my mind, I suppose.

I tossed and turned, musing about tomorrow.

I drifted to sleep once more, my mind ridden with thoughts of the black dragon. I dreamed of my reincarnation to this world. There was that same quake, that same flooding…only this time, something else happened. I didn't breathe or open my mouth as the water washed in, but a certain blankness occurred after that. Something happened. I just couldn't remember what.

Just as I was drifting with the river, trying to keep my head above the water, I woke to the sound of my adoptive mother entering my room with the usual glass of milk. This time, sunlight was streaming through the my open windows. The blinds were pulled to the side and the cold air washed in. I took a deep breath, startled, and rose sweating.

"Evyionne?" Hellenia softly intoned.

"Mama," I muttered.

"Are you alright?" she asked, putting the glass of milk on the low table beside my bed and kneeling on the floor. As the bed rose low, about just as high from the tip of an adult's forefinger to the base of the wrist, she easily reached over from where she sat. "Tell me, oliamane."

My head buzzed. Oliamane? My brain quickly processed the word and spat out a translation to the front of my attention. Daughter.

"Mm. Delo ke," I said with a nod, all whilst paying attention to the words I was speaking. This was just a phrase of confirmation—the same thing I had always said. I'm alright.

I immediately recognized it. The language was Veneryali. In particular, the variant that appeared in the capital city of Kilahad—this place. Mistress Veronika said I should start identifying them. Perhaps it would take just a bit of focus and a groggy brain. I've woken up many times in the past, though. The smoothness of my 'inner translator' had never once failed since that time I was stolen.

"Was it a bad dream?" she asked me. "Evy, my daughter, you've been having these nightmares a lot recently. You haven't been sleeping well."

"I'm alright," I insisted.

"Evy," she began. "You don't have to lie to me. Tell me how it really is. There's something going on with you…I cannot rest easily if you don't tell me the truth."

I looked at her sincere eyes. Such intense greens. I have known people to love a child like one of their own even if they didn't share the same blood. I just never thought I would experience it myself. I have felt nothing but love and care from this woman and the rest of the mistresses.

"I remember things…" I began, then halted. Should I really say it? I have kept this to myself my entire life.

My mother looked at me expectantly.

"There was a man," I said. "With eyes…they were amber."

Hellenia stilled when she heard it. I was just testing whether she still remembered. It seems as though she at least knew Amber—that wasn't his real name, but it had become a habit calling him that.

"He just keeps appearing. I don't know what it is…"

It wasn't technically a lie.

Was I really going to keep this up? I was really tempted to tell the truth, but something in me protested against it. It felt like I was going against an unspoken rule.

"It's alright." She patted my head. "No one's going to harm you. Just think of that man as a…guardian. He's your brave protector."

Not really. He stole me from my parents. He wasn't a protector. He was a freaking kidnapper.

Then again, if it wasn't for him, I wouldn't have known Hellenia and the mistresses. I'm sure he had his reasons. Up to now, I just didn't know what.

"Now, Aunt Safia showed me what you did." She ran a hand through my hair. "Won't you show it to mama?"

I looked at my table which was situated just a little behind my mother and saw the cluster of bottles and tools on the surface. The bottle of perfume was there. I pointed to it and she followed my finger. She reached for the dark bottle and brought it to me.

"Is it this one?"

I nodded. I took it from her hand and uncapped it, offering it to her nose.

She took a whiff. "It is lovely," she said, smiling widely as she looked at me. "Unbelievable…" Her eyes seemed to water a little. For a second, I thought it was because she found it detestable. However, I later realized it wasn't because of that. Her cheeks pinked and she took a deep breath, leaning down to kiss my hair. "My daughter is so talented. My special little girl." She pulled my head to the base of her throat and tightened her embrace. "Mama promises to keep you safe, my daughter. No matter what."

After the mother-daughter moment we had going on for a bit there, Hellenia finally withdrew to prepare me for the day. I slept in my outdoor clothes last night so I had to take a bath. My mother would probably change the bed sheets today too.

Hellenia's baths were comforting things. Her hands worked magic and were always gentle. The bath this time smelled of honeycomb and lemon. She worked on cleaning my hair with the soapy oils while I preoccupied myself scooping bubbles into my hands. In spite of the age of my soul and memories, my instinctive childlike qualities seemed to shine through no matter what—and I had to play my part sometime, otherwise, wouldn't it be scary if I just straight up and acted like an adult?

Hellenia sang a hymn under her breath so softly that it was but a hushed whisper. I could tell she was doing this unknowingly as she lifted the water to my hair and brushed down the suds. Moments after the hymn, a soft glide of words appeared accompanying the melody from before. Fascinated, I tuned into the lullaby and calmly soaked in my bath. It was strange. Clearly, I hadn't heard this before but there was something about it that was definitely familiar.

"Oh child of the river, the river's young flow. Delight in all the blessing it's giving you. When the time comes it can offer nothing more, dear child, please take the river with you. Riverside flower, delighting in the water…"

I tried to focus on the words. This seemed to be in a different language—but what?

It didn't occur to me that we were done until Hellenia lifted me from the tub and dried me with the towel.

"Sing it again," I said.

"Now, now, my dear. We still need to get to the dining room."

Hellenia put me in a pastel yellow blouse with a round collar trimmed with small beads. My adoptive mother then dressed me with a matching skirt that reached an inch or two above my ankles, around the swell of my legs. The blouse and the skirt went along so well it seemed to be a single piece were it not for the fanning of the top's ends, distinguishing it from my bottoms. Hellenia left my hair down, clipping back a part of it away from my face with a small, jeweled piece before patting me on the shoulder.

"Where is your coat? It's too cold this morning," she muttered. She was probably referring to the overcoat worn over the blouse and skirt. I looked towards the open windows and agreed. The morning was colder than I expected. "Wait a moment, daughter." Hellenia stood, leaving me sitting in front of the mirror. I watched Hellenia disappear behind my wardrobe doors.

I heard Hellenia shuffling through the wardrobe. For a while, it was the only thing that broke the silence. I then sang aloud the tune she'd been humming before, along with her voice in my head.

I saw her peek from the wardrobe doors, the overcoat finally in hand. She made her way to me with a small smile and said, "This song is from my village." She gingerly pulled my arms into the coat and fixed it around my shoulders. "When I was a child, we would sing this when we stroll down the riverside. The river for us is very sacred—it is the source of life and living for many of our people."

"Where is your village, mama? Can we visit?" I inquired.

She looked saddened for a moment. "Maybe someday, darling. Come on. We've got to show you to the mistresses, alright? This new dress suits you!"

My adoptive mother's behavior told me the story was quite a sensitive one. I decided not to ask anymore questions and settled for the comfortable silence between us.

For the next few months, the weeping willow became my go-to place whenever I was bored with my usual spot. Mistress Veronika was right when she said this place was special. Compared to other places in the Oblivion, this tree had a peculiar calming effect. I had always loved hanging out under a tree to read my books. This was undoubtedly one of the best spots. One day did not pass without me visiting the place at least once.

As I spent more time in this particular spot, I slowly realized what it was. I developed sensitivity to the energies surrounding this willow tree. It was subtle. However, it resembled a small pool. I didn't know what sort of force this was but it was thick—kind of like a vein pumping the blood of nature itself. Maybe that's what it was.

Over the course of the month, I tuned myself to this energy and so very slowly understood what my Mistress Veronika had been trying to teach me. I didn't know whether the results were abysmal, but I paid no mind to the negativity and focused on my own progress.

This pool of nature's blood, I later realized, was singing. I listened to the symphony and tried to emulate it as I sat there. Some of the notes were foggy and weren't easy to transmute into something that could be sung or played, however, I persevered. Very soon, I finally had a whole ten seconds of clear melody. It might seem short, but it was the purest I have ever heard and the most beautiful tune I had ever sung.

But it was still a little far from what I was hearing.

At times, I would sit there leafing through some books while bathing in the faint melody in my mind. This time, I had managed to steal the manual concerning the matter I was most interested in. I was hoping this contained the symbol of the dragon eating its own tail—the one I saw from the time I tested in the War College.

It did not fail me.

It talked about the mythical seven dragons, explaining them in detail. I curiously scanned the contents, trying to find the keyword and image I was looking for. After a time of skimming, I finally hatched the page I wanted to find.

The lines were dark and bold, drawn in the blackest ink. The corners were sharp and the eyes were drawn pointed. Its jaws were dropped open as it chased after its tail in a tight, perfect circle.

Kaliya.

Dragon of death, darkness, chaos, violence, and destruction.

Whoa, whoa, whoa, hold up there for a moment.

That should be the most ominous of all the dragons I had previously seen. If this was my Deliverer, wouldn't I be having such a bad fate? Then again, death didn't have to be so bad. But the things attached to it—that was another. No wonder my adoptive mother was so worried. All those conversations I have been hearing couldn't possibly be pertaining to this, right?

With raised brows, I continued reading.

The dragon of the moonless night. The symbol of bridging the end of a life to a new start. He is the revered guardian of the departed and executioner of unrepentant souls. Of both eternity and the non-linear reality.

Like it or not, this was strangely fitting for me. It literally spelled my life. If anything, this was really my fate.

"Evyionne?"

I looked up and saw my mother walking towards me.

"It's Eren," she told me, holding an earpiece towards me. "She's calling. Come find me after you finish this call, alright?"

I put down my book, closing it in case my mother saw it. I then reached for the earpiece and talked with a person I actually, surprisingly, was excited to talk to.

"EVYYYYY!" I heard a shrill cry on the other end of the line, followed by a wail.

"Calm down, what is it?"

And so went on a barrage of complains and stories from Erenol. My life was particularly uninteresting and repetitive, so I had nothing to tell but the bland and mediocre tasks I was doing. Erenol got into trouble more than I did which was why she had a lot of interesting things to listen to.

It made me wonder what the heck I was doing with this life, but I enjoyed the peacefulness of my days. I wouldn't trade it for another.

"Alright, alright! I'll tell her!" The line was cut after and I found myself running up to my adoptive mother with a hopeful look.

She was hesitant in letting me go, but decided it wouldn't hurt to take me to the place Eren and I agreed on. A festival was happening celebrating the new season and I was curious enough not to let the chance of seeing it pass me by. It must be hard taking out a sheltered daughter, but I was aware they knew they wouldn't be able to keep me in for so long. I needed to see and learn about this world as much as I could.