Chapter 2: The sounds of the wind chimes

In the somber atmosphere, accompanied by the heart-wrenching sobs of a woman who seemed unable to accept the loss of her son, the man standing beside her stood like a steadfast pillar. His expression was complex, sometimes frowning, sometimes relaxed, and sometimes showing an inability to accept the reality before him. But no matter how many expressions he wore, they could not hide the tears still welling up in his eyes.

Êyavia stood silently beside them, her expression as vacant as ever, only this time her eyes seemed even deeper, devoid of any light…

…

Time seemed to fast-forward once more. After all the visitors had left, the three of them sat together at the table. The space was no longer filled with weeping, but instead a veil of silence. The food on the table had long since gone cold, showing no sign of having been touched. Outside the dining room window, only the faint moonlight shone.

…

Silence continued, as if time were passing without waiting for anyone. The entire house was now shrouded in darkness, and only the occasional muffled sobs reached her ears. Êyavia, curled up on her bed, suddenly felt a tear well up in the corner of her eye. She covered her mouth with her hand, hoping to prevent the sobs from escaping as before. She looked completely different from how she had this morning, no longer with the vacant stare she had given earlier. Questions and doubts swirled in her mind, but not a single word came out. The silent night fell asleep in this house, in this neighborhood, undisturbed.

Unbeknownst to her, Êyavia had drifted off to sleep.

…

The scene had changed; the veil of night and the dim moonlight were gone. The clear chirping of birds had completely replaced the silence, and gentle rays of sunlight streamed through the windows, scattering into shimmering, ethereal patterns of color on the floor.

And then, in her simply painted yellow bedroom, Êyavia suddenly opened her eyes. It was not the alarm clock; she never needed one. Nor was it the birdsong outside, nor the sunlight. She was still trying to recall that strange sound; it did not frighten her, but rather sounded like a sweet, gentle lullaby. But it did not seem like a lullaby at all, because the melodious sound did not lull her to sleep; it compelled her to open her eyes.

Unconsciously, fragments of memories flooded back, overwhelming her mind and sweeping away any attempts to remember the sound. Her expression, which had been one of curiosity, now turned gloomy and lifeless. She repeated her usual morning routine. Downstairs, in the kitchen, the breakfast plate was still there as always, but this time there was only one plate, and just as always, no one else was there besides her. Seeing this, her heart ached; her dreams of what had happened before, once a nightmare, were now mercilessly shattered by reality. The more she thought about it, the more Êyavia felt the space around her darken. In that fleeting moment, she vaguely saw the space not only darken but also slightly curve, even peeling apart in places, floating like dark silk fabrics suspended in the air, with gentle breezes blowing through. And in that very instant, the familiar sound that had awakened her echoed in her ears.

When she startled back to her surroundings, everything had returned to normal; the melodious sounds were gone. Her mood instantly turned somber again, as if she had forgotten what had just happened.

Sitting at the table, Êyavia did not eat immediately, occasionally glancing towards the staircase. Perhaps she was still hoping for some miracle, that Stalas had simply overslept and that in a few minutes her younger brother would reappear and bring light back to her once more, just as always. But in the end, no miracle occurred; the silence in the house remained unchanged. Then Êyavia abruptly stood up, ignoring the food that had long since gone cold, and walked away angrily, her mind racing with countless thoughts. Standing right in front of the door, she reached out, hesitated, but finally opened it and stepped outside. However, upon reaching the doorstep, she froze as if possessed. She did not know where she was going, nor why she had rushed out like that.

An invisible force urged her to keep going, unconsciously leading her onward without knowing where she was going. The scenery along the road she walked unconsciously was a picture painted in completely different colors from Êyavia's mood. On either side of the road were the green of grass and trees, interspersed with faint yellow sunlight. Sometimes there were the sounds of children playing, sometimes the chirping of birds mixed with the buzzing of cicadas. Everything on this street remained the same, still bright, only she was a dark, gloomy spot standing out completely in this picture. And the more she looked at the scene, the more uneasy she felt.

Uneasy because memories of Stalas resurfaced as she looked at the children playing, only to be shattered by the image of that day. Then she felt uneasy again, perhaps envious, but perhaps angry that a ray of light had just faded, yet the people here acted as if nothing had happened. They were still as cheerful and happy as ever, only she could not feel that warmth. Though the warm sunlight shone everywhere, she still felt cold.

That melodious sound echoed in her head again, the space around her twisted like thin silk, and the ground rose and fell like waves. She felt suffocated, her whole body paralyzed, unable to collapse or stand upright. She wondered if she was about to die. When such thoughts arose, her subconscious immediately sent out a barrage of resistance signals; her body still longed to live.

But after only a few seconds, she gave up. Perhaps dying would not be so bad. Once dead, she would feel nothing, hear nothing, remember nothing. Since there was no motivation while she was alive, perhaps death would end all these worries and suffering…

Her body gradually relaxed, sinking into the floating silks that increasingly obscured Êyavia's vision. The melodious sounds grew clearer and clearer. Consequently, Êyavia no longer felt breathless or restrained; her entire body seemed to fall into an indescribable, ethereal state. The scene imprinted on the silks faded, leaving a faint blur. Before it completely disappeared, her gaze unconsciously shifted towards what had once been Mrs. Ingfa's house, as if something was still stirring there. Then she glanced at the gap between the floating veils of reality.

Between these gaps was a pitch-black space sparkling with stars, and above, a scene resembling the Milky Way stretched across the sky. In the distance, two bright spots stood out, much larger than the other stars. They seemed to be a pair of eyes staring in this direction. Those eyes looked in this direction without any malice, at least that's what Êyavia's instinct told her.

As her vision faded and was replaced by the starry sky, she looked towards the still partially obscured curtain representing Mrs. Ingfa's house. The image of the object in front of the house did not fade but became clearer and clearer�"a cluster of wind chimes.

The melodious sound she always heard now revealed its true nature: the sound of the wind chimes.

When the wind chimes were at their clearest, everything went dark.

Following the sudden silence was the sound of someone sighing…