The mug of coffee fell from Miralen's hand, it shattered into pieces, coffee spilled around the shattered glass and her feet. She ran through the dim hallway, her heart hammering in her chest. She had never heard anything like it before.
Without thinking, she rushed to her father's room and knocked frantically on the door.
The door swung open. Valerian stood there, his expression shifting from surprise to concern as he took in Miralen's terrified face.
"What's the matter, Miralen? You look... scared," he said, his voice calm but tinged with worry.
"I... I-" Miralen stammered, her eyes darting toward the upstairs hallway.
Valerian exhaled softly. "Come in first. Sit down and calm yourself. Then you can tell me everything, alright?"
"O-okay, Dad," she whispered, stepping inside. They settled on the corner couch. Miralen took a few shaky breaths, trying to steady herself.
Valerian waited in silence, his calm presence allowing her to gather her thoughts. Finally, he broke the quiet.
"Now... tell me what happened. Why are you running to me like this?"
Miralen hesitated. Then, voice trembling, she spoke. "I... I heard a lullaby. Or maybe a song... I don't know how... but it was faint, echoing... near that portrait at the end of the hallway."
Valerian's composed expression cracked for a fraction of a second. A soft laugh escaped him, and then he smiled faintly. "Dear... maybe it's just your imagination. Dim light, shadows... things can play tricks on you."
Miralen frowned. "But Dad, I'm telling the truth. I really heard it. A soft lullaby."
He sighed and leaned back slightly. "Alright, if that's true... what did it say? The words, or the melody-anything you can remember?"
Miralen looked down, trying to recall the faint lyrics. "It said... 'Come to me now... the souls and bounds tied... by the thread... When memories...' something like that. It was so faint, I couldn't hear clearly, but... that's what I remember."
Valerian froze. His face went still, unreadable, yet his eyes betrayed recognition. He had heard this lullaby before-many times. But when Miralen looked up at him, his face returned to neutral.
"Oh... really? Those were the words? Sounds beautiful for an imagined song," he said with a faint, almost knowing smirk.
"Dad! I'm not imagining it!" Miralen snapped, frustration creeping into her voice.
Valerian placed a hand gently on her shoulder. "Okay, okay. Maybe it's time you get some rest or do whatever you want to."
"Okay, Dad," Miralen replied quietly, standing up and leaving the room.
As she disappeared down the hallway, Valerian's expression hardened. The lullaby... he knew it. He had heard it many times before-more than he could count. And its echoes carried weight he could no longer ignore.
---
Miralen stood up from her study table and reached to her bed, she was tired, she has finally finished her assignment on which she was working for whole day, but sleep no longer tempted her. Carefully, she retrieved the golden hairpin Valerian had gifted her, tying her hair into a neat bun. The hairpin glimmered faintly, catching the dim light like it held a secret of its own.
She tiptoed toward the portrait at the end of the hallway. The air there was heavy, still, as if it were holding its breath. Her eyes scanned the painted figures, searching for something she couldn't yet name. Then, almost by instinct, she pressed her hand against the left side of the frame. The wall gave slightly beneath her fingers, like a hidden button yielding to her touch.
A sharp click echoed. Miralen stepped back as the portrait slowly split in half, the painted canvas folding apart to reveal a dark, narrow passage beyond. Shock coursed through her, but curiosity pushed her forward. She peered inside: a slim corridor stretched ahead, ending at a faintly glowing door. Without hesitation, she stepped through.
The portrait swung shut behind her, and for a moment she glimpsed the back of it. The art there caught her eye: a girl sitting beside a Jasmine flower, watched over by a few shadowed figures. Something about it felt... off, almost alive. But for now, she forced herself to ignore it.
Miralen turned and advanced along the passage. Soon, she reached the door. Its surface was a mosaic of colored glass set in carved wood, refracting the dim light in fractured patterns across the walls. With a deep breath, she opened it-
a breathtaking sight unfolded before Miralen-a cathedral not built by human hands, but shaped by time itself. The walls glimmered with a deep cerulean glow, as though the stones remembered every moment that had ever passed through them. Blue light streamed down from the arched ceiling, fractured through glass panels that shimmered like fragments of frozen stars.
Every sound here felt distant, muted as if time itself refused to echo. Chandeliers hung motionless above her, their candles burning endlessly without melting, their flames locked in an eternal hour. The marble floor beneath her feet was cracked yet alive, veins of faint golden light pulsing through it like the heartbeat of a sleeping giant. Between those cracks twined glowing ivy - the Time Vines, said to grow wherever the fabric of time began to weaken.
Statues lined in a pattern in between the cathedral, their forms swallowed by shadow. Each one bore a clock where the heart should have been and no two clocks ever showed the same time. They were total ten of them.
At the far end of the hall stood an ancient throne upon a dais of mirror-like stone. No dust dared to settle upon it. The air around it shimmered faintly, as though someone had once sat there and never truly left.
Miralen's steps echoed softly as she walked toward the throne. Her expression shifted between awe and disbelief. "W...what is this place? How can this even exist?" she whispered to herself. The floor beneath her gave a faint, glass-like crackle with every step.
Her gaze lifted to the candle stands lining the path. The wax was smooth - untouched by time or heat. She reached out and brushed her fingers against one. "This... this is a normal candle," she murmured. "Then why isn't it melting?"
Her voice faltered as a sudden thought struck her. "Why am I even wondering about this? I came here to-" She paused. A chill passed through her. "Why did I come here?" she whispered, her words trembling.
Her eyes darted around the cathedral, searching for meaning in the silence. Then, gathering her courage, she approached the throne. It stood immaculate, untouched by decay, as if time itself bowed before it. She ran her fingers along the armrest, trying to find an explanation.
Miralen circled the throne, her eyes scanning every inch of it the smooth, mirror-like stone, the intricate carvings that twisted into unknown shapes. Then something on the floor caught her eye. A wooden board, half-buried in dust, old enough to crumble at a touch.
She crouched down and carefully lifted it. The surface was rough, its edges splintered, but she brushed away the layers of dust until the bold letters beneath revealed themselves.
"THE PATH OF CURSED TIME."
The words were written in dark, uneven ink as though someone had carved them in desperation, not peace. Miralen's eyes widened, her breath catching. "What does that even mean? The... Path of Cursed Time?" she whispered, confusion and unease twisting in her chest.
She turned the board slightly and noticed faint markings beneath the words - not letters, not symbols she knew, but patterns. Twisted, interwoven lines, forming a language that felt alive. The shapes seemed to pulse faintly under her gaze, shifting as if they didn't want to be understood.
"What is this language...?" Miralen muttered, her voice trembling with curiosity.
She could feel it - the pull. A strange need to know. To uncover everything: the meaning of the board, the truth of the lullaby, the reality behind this place. Her heart thudded as a thought passed her mind - maybe this was connected to her mother...
But what Miralen didn't realize was that some things were never meant to be found. At least not yet.
And as the golden threads across the floor faintly flickered, the cathedral itself seemed to breathe as if it had been waiting for her to read those words.
---
(THE END OF CHAPTER 3)