2. Where the Orchids Grew

"Grandma… why didn’t Meredia fight?"

"Because Meredia was in love, darling."

Huh.... Grandma?

I can still hear her voice, soft like cotton soaked in sunlight, lulling me into a place of comfort that felt like home. The memory is hazy, blurry around the edges, but her voice? Her voice is as clear as ever. I remember her heartbeat most of all. The steady thump, thump, thump, of it, warm against my cheek. It told me stories, stories I didn’t understand back then.

"But shouldn't she have fought for her love?" I’d asked her, because Grandma always said that love wasn’t just some sweet thing to be admired from afar. Love had to be fought for. If you weren’t willing to fight for it, then it wasn’t love.

I remember the way her arms tightened around me then, like she was trying to shield me from something I wasn’t ready to face.

"She did."

I blinked, staring at the edge of her shawl, my tiny fingers clinging to it. I looked up at her face, but... it was blurry. Her face, her smile, was a blur in my memory, but her voice, her warmth, her touch... that I could remember.

"No... she didn’t," I said, sure of it even back then. I knew what it meant to fight.

She smiled at me then. I can’t picture the smile, not exactly. But I know it was there. That warm, knowing smile that made the world feel a little safer. The only thing clear in my mind was the gold pendant she wore, swaying gently as she rocked me. It was shaped like an orchid. I could feel it brush against my forehead, that little tickle from the delicate flower pendant.

Grandma had told me grandpa was a gardener, and how she’d fallen in love with him, and the flowers, together. She’d said he loved orchids, and so, she did too. And somehow, I did as well.

We were rocking together in her old chair, her hands wrapped around me, holding me close like she could protect me from the world. I don’t know how long we sat there, the rhythm of the rocking matching the pulse of her heartbeat.

"You’ll understand when you’re older. Not now."

I remember rolling my eyes, though I must've been so small. "Mhhm. You're so weird. Even Kaiju thinks your story is ridiklus."

Kaiju... Why did I say that name? Who was he? I can't place him.

And to be honest, until the day I died, I never understood what Grandma had meant. How had that little lady fought for her love? What did it mean? What was she really saying?

And I never got to ask her about this again either because she left me... Did she die?

And I always wondered what dying felt like. What came after. Where people went.

Did they just wake up in a new body with no memory? Or did they float around doing nothing? Was it boring? Peaceful? Painful?

I wanted to know. Just one day after death. Just one.

But obviously, that wasn’t possible.

You die, and that’s it. No rewinds. No second chances.

Except… that wasn’t how it went for me.

I, Sia Rose, died.

Lupus showed up when I was fifteen. First my legs started getting weak, then my hands. By seventeen, even holding a spoon felt like too much. Hospitals, meds, injections...everything came with a price tag I alone couldn't keep up with.

And one day, I just stopped breathing.

On that creaky bed in my grandma's room. The one with faded yellow bedsheets and a smell that always reminded me of mustard oil and old books.

And then...

I woke up.

.

.

.

.

What the hell...?

Where am I?

Everything around me looked like nothing I’d ever seen. It was just this giant space. No walls. No floor. Just endless fog. Sky full of stars, or maybe not stars. They looked more like glowing bubbles floating in the sky.

I turned, slowly.

Nothing existed here. No buildings, no people, no noise. It was like the world had been erased and I was dropped into whatever came after.

I didn't panic. Maybe I should’ve, but I didn’t.

I just… moved.

No idea how. My body wasn’t moving. I was just… gliding. Floating, maybe? But there was no weight, no feet touching ground.

Can I walk again? Am I floating?

I looked down. My legs had stopped working before I met my death. They—my legs?

There was nothing. Nothing was around me.

No legs. No arms. No body.

but still I was lingering, feelings like I'm alive.

Am I just… a soul?

Okay. Deep breath, if I have lungs.

I kept going. I don't know where, but I didn’t stop either. There was something pulling me forward, not like a force or anything, just a feeling.

And then, in the distance, a tree stood tall. Except its branches were swaying even though there was no wind, and the leaves had those same glowy bubbles hanging from them like fruits.

Under it, someone was sitting.

Is it a person? I shrunk my eyes to see, hypothetically. But they didn’t have a face. No eyes. No mouth. No hair. Just... a figure.

Still, weirdly, why did I like I knew his face but I couldn't describe it. Like his face was somewhere in my mind.

He was playing with one of the bubbles like it was a toy

And then he turned to me.

I don’t know how I knew, but he smiled. I felt it. Like his smile wasn’t on a face but inside my chest.

"Here you are. I thought you were lost." He didn't speak but his voice wrapped around me from all directions. It was very calm and gentle as if very wind was speaking. But there was no wind either.

I didn’t answer. He stood up, his presence growing, moving toward me, though I still couldn’t see him. He was more of a figure in the mist, shifting in and out like something I couldn’t quite touch.

"You’re confused, aren’t you?" His voice had a teasing and playful tone. "That’s okay. You’ll catch on. Eventually."

Confused? I died. How much more confusing can it get?

"What is this place? Where am I? What do you want from me?"

He laughed lightly, his figure twisting in the fog as he spoke. "What I want? Oh, I don’t need anything from you. You’re the one who’s been given something, Sia."

"Something?"

"You were never meant to stay where you were. You never fit in there," he said. "But what you were meant for... well, that’s for you to figure out, isn’t it?"

"What do you mean?"

He paused, as if enjoying the confusion building in me. "You’re not dead, Sia. Not really. You’ve been given the chance to step into a place where you were meant to be. And this world? It’s been waiting for you."

It doesn't make sense. A place where I am meant to be? But I died. I’m dead. This can’t be real.

"You’re not meant to go back, Sia. What’s waiting for you isn’t what you left behind," he continued, but now his voice was more softer and affectionate. "You’ll meet people there who... already know you, in ways you don’t yet understand."

"Already know me?" How? "What do you mean by that?"

He just chuckled, the sound like a breeze through trees, distant but somehow right next to me. "You’ll see. Things are never as they seem when you first arrive. But you? You’ve always had a way of figuring things out. Even when you didn’t know what you were searching for."

What did he mean by that? "Why me?"

His form swirled in the fog. "Why not? You’ve always been part of something bigger. You’ll learn that soon enough."

"Just know this," he said. His voice was growing soft and distant now, "where you’re going... you’re not a stranger there. You never have been."

Something pulled me again, stronger this time, like it was an invisible force.

Before I could speak again, he added, his voice a whisper now ringing in my ear clearly again, "And Sia? You may not remember everything right away. But pieces will come. You’re not just any soul. You’re part of a story that has been told, and retold, long before you even thought about what was coming."

What does that even mean? Is he some lunatic? Wait, what's happening?

There was no ground beneath me nor did I have legs but something beneath me was definitely shaking as if I will fall into it.

"Remember, you’re not starting fresh. You’re picking up where you were always meant to be."

I looked up towards him, to his weird form which appeared closer now. The fog around him began to twist differently now.

"You’ll walk roads drawn in ash," his tone turned light-hearted again, as if telling a bedtime story to a child who wouldn’t sleep. Is he seriously dumb? "One path will bleed. One will bloom. You’ll have to choose with your eyes shut."

I blinked. "What does that even mean?"

He chuckled. "You’ll ask that a lot. Don’t worry, the answers won’t get clearer."

It's getting heavier again.

"There will be mirrors," he said, "but some won’t reflect you. Some will try to wear your skin. Call them what they are: thieves of time."

I frowned. "That sounds... horrible?"

"Or hilarious, depending on the shoes you’re in," he replied, voice tilting with laughter. "Some shoes will fit like fate. Some will blister. But you’ll walk anyway."

Does he like being cryptic?

"There will come a day when the sun forgets its place in the sky, and everything that once hurt... will ask for forgiveness. You won’t know if it deserves it."

"You’ll arrive too early," he added, almost in a whisper, "and then, too late. The stars will rearrange themselves trying to make space."

The fog shifted again, this time curling upward like smoke returning to a mouth. His shape wasn’t there anymore, just the memory of motion.

"Someone will write your name in stone before you’re done living it. Don’t let them."

What does that mean? There was no use of asking him. He wouldn't answer anyway.

"And if, by chance," his voice came once more, softer than mist, "you hear a lullaby before a storm, don’t close your eyes. That’s when it begins."

Lullaby?

Something is happening. I looked down, and a dark void opened under me.

"What—"

***Download NovelToon to enjoy a better reading experience!***