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Nine Midnight Bells
By: Clovergiel ♣
That day, I believe, was the strangest Christmas I ever experienced.
It was the same old tradition in our town, Cerulea, in this every year holiday: townspeople busying themselves by decorating and flooding the streets with colorful lights and Christmas ornaments, children laughing amongst each other as they play along the snow covered roads, and the faint smell of roasted chicken that was evident in the cool air. Everyone can be assumed to be experiencing happiness.
For me, as an acolyte who serves and assists a priest in public worship, Christmas Eve was a very busy day. It was the last day of midnight mass, in which everyone who completed all masses expects their wishes to be granted by God. Of course, I was present throughout nine masses, so I wanted a wish of mine to be granted as well.
Cerulea town was considered to be a town of faithful worshippers. Though we only have a small population, everyone could be expected to be loyal attendees to our church, considering we're the only church throughout Cerulea town.
The streets and houses might be extremely busy and crowded tonight, but expect it that by midnight, any place everywhere would be emptied aside from the church.
"So Raki, you're up here. The mass will be starting in ten minutes," a familiar authoritative voice said to me from behind. It's the head priest.
I faced him and bowed in respect. "Father, I'm sorry for slacking off. I'll be heading downstairs in a moment."
Rather unusually, I didn't get a response. I looked up and saw a gentle smile plastered on the priest's face. "I think you didn't get my point, my son."
He walked over towards my place and stopped beside me, looking over the open window. This was my favorite spot in the whole building, the topmost floor where the huge golden church bell resides. Aside from being an altar attendant, I was also the bell ringer. And I love what I do. Overlooking the whole town and having the tower be dimly lit by the moonlight was such a gratifying bonus, but it couldn't compare to the honor of ringing this bell which the whole town hears.
"What I'm saying is you still have ten minutes to enjoy your view up here. And I'd love to join you," he said.
My eyes widened in sheer disbelief. "But, Father! The mass will start soon. W-we have so much work to do. We should be preparing," I argued.
Father remained calm and showered me with his smile. "Worry not, my son. The Lord never let His activities fail. We, as His servants, should not be anxious. Haven't we done this eight times already? Why would He not let the last be victorious?"
I realized the priest's wise reasoning. However, I couldn't help to still feel troubled. So I tried to reason in a small voice. "But, it's not the same as the masses before. It's Christmas eve, so I'm expecting our hands to be full."
The head priest laughed. "I can see myself in you when I was the same age. Like you, I'm still new in serving God's church. How long have you been here? Four months? Five?" he asked.
"Five and a half, Father," I answered.
"Yes. Have you heard about the famous legend of Cerulea town, the 'Nine Midnight Bells'? I suppose not, right? You're new in this town."
I shook my head, just as he suggested.
"I'd love to share the story to you, later. But for now, let us focus with the mass. It should be starting any minute now."
***
Just as I expected, the church was full tonight. But my imagination betrayed me, for this crowd was totally exceptional. I had never seen so much people. I couldn't focus. My hands were trembling.
Focus, Raki. Focus.
I repeated the mantra in my head over and over. Good thing we're in the middle of the sermon. I don't think anyone was particularly looking at me.
Then it happened. The bell unprecedentedly rang out of the blue. Everyone looked at my direction knowing I'm the bell ringer. It's not me, obviously, but no one aside from me was allowed to do so.
I was about to run and check the tower when my fellow acolyte grabbed my right sleeve and slowly shook his head.
I noticed the people sighed and acted as if nothing unusual just happened. Even the priest proceeded with the sermon.
What's wrong with the people?
I went back to my position, and I was sulking throughout the whole mass. I didn't even notice it had ended already.
I didn't understand what's going on. Was that a usual occurrence for them? I didn't think so, because I couldn't think of anything to explain what just happened.
After the mass, I quickly ran towards the tower where the church bell was placed. If I was lucky, the culprit must still be there. But when I got there, the whole place was empty. Not even a trace. I sighed and plopped over the window.
"I know your mind's full of questions right now," the priest said. He walked over and sat beside me, our backs leaning on the wall of the window.
"What happened, my son, is related to the legend I'm about to tell you. It happened on Christmas Eve about 40 years ago. Just like tonight, in the middle of the mass, the bell rang. For nine times. The priest at that time, together with an acolyte, went up in this same tower to see who rang the bell. There they saw a little girl, eyes covered in tears, trying to pull the rope for the last time. But she failed," the priest said.
Then I realized something. "But in our town, ringing the bell nine times signifies death."
"You're right. That's why she forced herself to do one last ring, so that it would mean healing." He paused for a moment, a lonely smile dominating his face. "She pleaded the priest, saying she's ringing the bells for her brother Jim. He's dying. But he'll be healed once he hears the sound of the bell. However, her body was too weak to pull the rope that much. But she didn't mind. She stood up and went to the rope. The priest stopped her, for he knew the girl's body was way past her limits."
I shifted in my place and continued to listen. Then the priest added, "In the end, the acolyte was the one who rang the bell for the last time. But that healing was meant for Jim, the girl's brother. And it was too late to ring for another ten for the girl."
"You mean she died?" I asked.
"Yes, she died. And after that, every year on Christmas Eve, the bell would ring for nine times. Thus, the legend of the Nine Midnight Bells was born. After that, Jim worked for the church and is now a full-fledged head priest," he said, standing up from his seat with a smile.
"Then that means..." I trailed off.
"Yes, I am Jim. And that little girl... is my sister." He smiled, remembering his memories of her.
