The others had signed off already. The house was quiet. Outside, the backyard occasionally let out the sound bats flying and cicadas. Though I lay on my bed, it wasn't sleep that pulled at me, it was something else.
My thoughts wandered.
Auriel's son managed to turn his blood test negative in 2 weeks. For sure it made me berate her. She had been giving all of the vitamins and supplements to her son. And kept only basic meds for herself. Such a virtuous mom!!
But what more could I say. We've been besties for decades. I should have figured it out before.
She sent an ROTFL stickers. Again.
Sorry. But I won't die. Fret not!"
[…]
In another place Kaelen was done with his hotel transferred. For convenience he was driving himself. Even cooked for himself. He followed the health regulations strictly.
While I began to commute. Once a week to my office.
Fortunately, Auriel finally recovered. She tested negative on the second swab and just to be safe, she quarantined for two more days.
The moment she felt better, we were back to chatting like nothing had happened. Voice notes, dumb memes, serious questions wrapped in sarcasm—it was our usual rhythm. No need to warm up.
There was a lot to talk about.
She asked, Still getting your flashes?"
I replied, You make it sound like I'm entering menopause 😑."
She answered with a stream of laughing emojis.
Yeah. But it's slower now. Weird."
Emotional weird or vision weird?"
Both, I think."
I hadn't told her everything. Honestly, I didn't even know what to make of it yet. It wasn't like before—no full scenes, no clear stories. Just flashes. Like your body remembering something before your mind catches up. Like when you smell something and suddenly feel sad, but don't know why.
Then I texted her:
Do you think I ever lived long enough before? Like, actually reaching sixty? Growing old and wrinkly?"
She didn't reply right away.
Of course."
Really? Because all I've seen is me dying young. It's like I never make it past thirty-something. Makes me think this life is the only one where I get to grow old."
A pause.
You reached hundreds once, remember?"
That doesn't count. We were gods that time."
Also true 😂"
What?"
You do believe visions only come when they need to, right?"
Yeah. But sometimes I wish they came in order. Like a proper file folder."
Spiritual Dropbox?"
Exactly. With labels. 'Open when stable.' 'Skip if PMSing.'"
She laughed, then sent a voice note:
I think you don't get full scenes now because it's not the time for answers. It's just time to sit with what's real."
That landed deep.
She wasn't wrong. I'd been trying to piece everything together—what each vision meant, which lifetime it belonged to, whether it was connected to Kaelen or not. But maybe this part of the story wasn't meant to unfold like a movie.
Maybe it was meant to be lived.
I was aware now that I'd gotten carried away—lost in visions, drifting from logic and my own skepticism.
She added,
Besides… aren't you kinda in the middle of a life right now?"
Touché."
We didn't need to say more.
Auriel always had that way—dropping a one-liner that stripped everything down to truth. I didn't have to explain my feelings to her. She just knew. The kind of friend who doesn't need your full story to understand where you're standing.
I hardly ever saw other people's past lives. Or if I did, it came like narration—detached, like watching a story play out behind a screen.
I could sense things, yes. Names, timelines, outcomes. But it never stayed with me. No weight. No residue.
Maybe that's how it's supposed to be when I have no personal link to the person I read. The soul speaks, I listen, and then it moves on.
But with Kaelen… it was different.
A pull inward. Not sharp. Just steady.
Not a sudden vision, more like a slow drift. A shift.
Then it came—clearer than usual.
I saw a massive building, old and full of detail. The kind of structure that didn't just exist but carried weight. Not from age alone, but from meaning. I found myself inside its vast structure. Huge. Ancient. And yet… not cold.
The kind of space that carried presence—time folded into stone.
I didn't know the name, but it felt familiar.
There was a dome, high and wide, but what caught me first was the floor.
Granite, cool under bare feet. Polished with age. Near the doorway, it had a pattern—nothing too bold, just enough to feel intentional. Like someone long ago wanted to leave a mark quietly.
The pillars weren't uniform. They were mismatched.
Each was made from different stone, maybe from different regions, maybe even a different time. Some white, some with darker veins, some with warm tones. Some smooth, others slightly rugged. At first it looked random, but somehow it all worked. It matched. Like different lives or voices blending in a way that made sense only if you stood still and really looked.
It should've clashed. But it didn't. It was beautiful. Balanced in a way I couldn't explain. Like lives that weren't meant to meet but did—and made something sacred.
And then… the color.
The thing that stayed with me the most was the color.
The blue.
Not painted exactly—but present. In the light. In the stones. In the shadows, in the space between, in the feeling. Blue tones that filled the space quietly, like a presence that didn't need to speak to be known. Like a memory. Like silence with weight.
It wasn't just beautiful. It was calming. Familiar.
I didn't try to control the vision. I just stood in it, watching.
Something about it felt important. Not urgent. Just waiting.
Not like a movie. More like a place I stepped into.