Part 1: The Awakening
Chapter 1: The forgotten letter
In the dark night, there was a lock which look rusty and full of spider web. The lock itself said the story of being forgotten and losing its use but when the key turned stiffly in the lock, the opening of lock sound more mysterious and frightening in the dead of the night. Nira slowly pushes the door, after opening she release a slow breath of air thick with dust and memories. She took a small step inside the house, scanning all the room.
For a moment, she stumbled few times before she gets to the side to scan all the room. She stood there for a few second - suitcase by her side , eyes traced outlined of her grandmother's house. Every surface was wrapped in stillness. The curtains were drawn, their edges yellowed; a calendar hung crooked on the wall, frozen on a month fourteen years past.
The house gave the smell of a mixture of sandalwood, old paper, and the faintest trace of jasmine oil.
Nira visit to this house was supposed to be the short visit. Sign a few documents, hand over the property to the lawyer and leave the remaining work to the lawyer. But as Nira stepped further in, something inside her tugged like something wants to communicate or something quiter, like a half-remembered song.
She placed her bag on the table and ran her hand across it. The thin film of dust came off on her fingers like fine ash.
Her grandma, Amaira Devi, had been a quiet women- one who spoke in unfinished sentences and kept secrets in a locked drawers. When she passed away, the lawyers had sent a single key with the will stating" there are personal belongings you may wish to see,".
Now, here Nira was, inside those belongings.
She walked from room to room, opening shutters, letting light seep in. Outside, the hills were wrapped in morining mist, the town below breathing faintly beneath a grey sky.
In the study, she found a sick of old notebooks, letters, and a porcelain inkpot- all untouched. Dust motes floated like slow snowflakes in the sunlight.
Nora smiled faintly."You always loved writing, didn't you, Granny?" She whispered. She used to call her grandmother granny loving.
The floorboard near the bookshelf creaked when she stepped on it- deeper, holier than the rest. Curious, she knelt and pried it up.
Inside was a small wooden box, its surface carved with faint geometric lines. A single thread od red cloth wrapped around it. The led was brittle with age, but when she untied the thread, it opened easily- Asia waiting for her.
Inside lay an envelope.
The paper was pale cream, the corners browned. Her grandmother's handwriting- unmistakable- looped across the surface.
To my granddaughter, Nira
Dated: 3rd July, 1985
Nira froze, 1985. She hadn't even been born.
Her fingers trembled slightly as she slid the letter out. The ink had faded to a soft sepia, but the writing was still clear- elegant and deliberate.
"My dearest Nira,
If you are reading this, then the time i feared has come. There are few things you must understand, things that do not fit in the lines of the ordinary life. The world you know is written- not in the stone, bit in ink. And the ink can be changed.
When the time comes, the pages will find you. Trust them- but not completely.
Your story began long before you were born.
Your's grandma."
Nira read the words again and again, until they blurred with the tears in her eyes.
She looked around the room- at the ink pot, at the dust shelves, at the quiet shadows -as if the house itself might explain what the letter meant.
Bit all she heard was the faint ticking of the old wall clock.
Tic Tok Tic…
Each sound seemed louder than the last.
When she finally set the letter down, as strange chill crawled up her spine. She felt the uncanny sense that she was not alone in the room.
The clock stopped ticking.
Somewhere behind her, a page fluttered- though no window was open.
Nira turned slowly. On the desk, an old notebook had fallen from the shelf, its cover cracked, its paged yellowed and empty- except for a single line written in faint blue ink:
"Welcome back, Nira."