Soul Sealer

Contact

Bells, Asther thought, bells are ringing. He hadn't opened his eyes yet. He only lay down and listened to the ringing of bells. It was almost deafening, the sound. He assumed they were church bells, for the sound they made could belong to no other. Their song was bordering sorrowful. It made him feel cosy, but melancholy wouldn't stop flowing across his body for some reason. The bells are very loud, they won't stop ringing.

The next thing he heard was a chorus. A chorus of seemingly otherworldly voices, for he had heard nothing like that before. The chorus was filled with exquisite low and high-pitched tunes. They sang in an unknown tongue; he couldn't discern what they were saying, but he needn't know. He could feel a burning sensation inside his chest, not an overtaking one. Rather, it was a warm sentiment, much like the one given by the bells that not once had ceased to vibrate in the air. Those chants touched him. It sounds like angels are singing a most delightful song.​

There came a breeze. A cold breeze of air that refreshed his nostrils the moment he inhaled. The wind! The wind blew with such strength you could hear its howling. It was the kind of wind that would blow only at Redcoastend, or at the freezing lands of Gelutos, the mountains of Snapdragon, or the flower fields of Altheas whenever he went on school trips with his classmates. Now that he thought of them, where were they? His classmates, his parents, were they also in that place? Most likely not, as no other sound could be heard besides the bells, the chorus, and the wind. The wind is very strong today. I must be in a place with high altitude.​

Along with the wind came a swarm of scents. The pleasant scent of aromatic flowers. The fragrance of spring Rhododendrons, the nostalgic scent of lavender, like the one that invaded his house, and the deep aroma of Iris. Lavender.​ His mother would scent her garden with lavender. Rhododendrons. The summer persistently smelled like Rhododendrons. Irises. His mother's perfume smelled of Iris. How could he ever forget them? Those were the fragrances that would invade his life, lingering until the coming of winter. Once winter arrived, it was the aroma of snow that dominated. That and the roasting of chestnuts, and the baking of shortbread cookies, and the sweetness of candy cranes, and the fruity pies. Oh, and grapes! It always smells like the freshest grapes, apples, and berries, when the winter visits Milos.

Something unknown grazed him. It stroked his nose, tickling his body, making him quietly chuckle. It was as if someone was playing a prank on him. He instantly figured that bells were ringing and that angels were singing the instant their sounds struck his ears. He also recognized the aromatic blooms. However, this soft thing that touched him, he couldn't pinpoint it at once. It felt like strings, as soft as silk, or wool, as ticklish as fur, and as light as feathers. That's it, he realized. They are feathers. Countless feathers are engulfing my body.

He heard a soft voice humming. "What are you doing there, Asther?" said a voice unlike any other.

"I'm listening to the bells, and the music, feeling the breeze that carries the feathers, and the scenting flowers," he responded, without opening his eyes.

The male voice chortled. "What bells? There are no bells here."

"What are you saying? Can't you hear the bells? They're so loud in here."

"Those sounds you say you hear, I cannot hear them at all. Moreover, I can also not smell scenting flowers."

"What about the breeze?" questioned Asther, "You certainly feel the breeze, right?"

"No, I cannot feel the breeze at all, Asther. All I can feel is the smell of disinfectant, rubber, and burnt skin. Asther frowned. Burnt skin? What was he talking about? There was nothing like that."There is also sorrow lurking around."