The talk of dimensions, the three fates, and the Deliverers had given me much that I needed to know about this world. I realized that, no matter how old my soul and consciousness, I was still a child. In this world that I didn’t know about, my previous life might not be of much use. What was the use of having memories, having this much level of awareness, if not to suffer and pine after the life I now didn’t have? I’d read novels regarding reincarnation and transmigration but they didn’t detail on the melancholy and regret I was suffering at the moment. They all seem to… move on so fast.

The sun had dimmed from the sky. I hadn’t heard my name called once save for the curious eyes occasionally peeking from the nearby window. I noticed my mistresses were worried.

I assumed they were doing this to teach me something.

Sitting in silence by myself—what was that supposed to do? Would that help me connect with the three different dimensions? Was I supposed to be chanting something here?

This wasn’t so bad. Once in a while, I still had the odd craving of bringing out a phone to scroll through Facebook—but they didn’t have that here, did they? I got over that after some time, but I couldn’t help but wish I had that kind of connectivity like back in my old world sometimes.

When night finally came, Hellenia crossed the bridge from the other side of the pond and knelt before me.

“Evy,” she began, “are you hungry yet, darling?”

I nodded.

“Come on.” She beckoned. “You did very well. Service hours will begin soon. We’ll resume this tomorrow, alright?”

“What about Mistress Veronika?” I asked. “Won’t she scold me?”

“Of course not. You did nothing wrong.” She patted my head. “How can anyone be angry with you, Evy?”

“I hope I didn’t disappoint anyone,” I said. I had stayed there for a time, and came upon nothing.

“It’s okay. Don’t worry about anything. Now, come on.”

She lifted me to my feet and guided me back to the House. Mistress Veronika was waiting for me by the porch, hands crossed and face blank. I dreaded coming up to her with the look she had on her face and, for a moment, I thought she would be giving me a dissatisfied stare—she had that effect on people.

“I’m sorry, mistress,” I told Veronika. “I don’t think I got what you were making me do.”

“It’s alright,” she said, kneeling before me and patting my head. “The weeping willow is a special place. Perhaps you’ll find out next time.”

A special place?

As I tried figuring out what she meant, I was taken to the dining room to eat ahead of everyone.

I was fed a plate of roast chicken and fried potatoes before I was escorted back to my room. Service hours would begin very soon. The residential part of the Oblivion was locked, as usual, and the mistresses all headed to the entertainment hall which sat a good distance away. I was left in the care of the blind Safia, a middle-aged woman who came in when needed to help watch over me—which was a little ironic. Yet, despite her disability, the woman was as sensitive as they come.

I watched through the window as the fairy lights came to life and the garden became illuminated with the promise of an eventful night. Faint music reverberated within the living walls and my caretaker, Aunt Safia, reached forward to close the windows.

“Come, Evyionne,” she told me, reaching for the knobs of the windows. It took her a second to find them but she pulled them close swiftly and gracefully. “While your mistresses are working, you must stay inside.”

“Why do I have to though?” I asked, although I really knew the answer to that.

“That isn’t the world you should be in at the moment, child,” she told me. “They will show you in due time. Now let us go to your room. Would you mind helping guide this woman?” She tapped on the floor with her cane and smiled at the space ahead of her, even though I knew it was for me. “I’m sure you have a lot of questions for me tonight.”

“I’ve got something new I’m working on.”.

“Oh, really? What about that book you were reading?”

“I finished it last week!”

“Well, then, show your auntie.”

I helped her through the halls and entered my room.

“Is the window open?” she asked me.

“Mistress Veronika told me to air out my room,” I said.

“Yes, your room does smell…strongly.”

“Would you like a pillow?” I offered, placing it on the floor for her to get comfortable on.

“Thank you.” She knelt on the pillow and placed her cane on the space beside her. “Vanilla, roses. If I’m not mistaken…violets, too.”

“Wow, how did you know that?”

“I have a keen nose, child. Now close your windows. Tell me what it is you’ve been busy with.”

“A few weeks ago, Mama and I went out of the Oblivion to take a test in the Dragoon Academy. You won’t believe what happened!” I reached up to close my windows, shutting them tight and retreating to my desk in the corner.

I continued chatting away to Safia as I worked about my tools. The bottles clinked, and I shuffled about busily as I resumed my work with the oils. Safia was a patient listener, and I knew she was paying attention to everything I was saying. I blankly began to narrate about our day out last week and what I have been busy with, occasionally falling silent as I concentrated on my current project.

“Safia,” I began.

“Yes, child?”

“Is it true that blind people have better hearing than others?” I asked.

She chuckled. “No, Evyionne. That is not true.”

“But you seem to always know what I’m doing even if you don’t see what I’m doing,” I told her as I funneled the oil into a dark bottle and shook it around, after which I began to add the alcohol. It would act as a preservative.

“We simply learn to listen and pay attention better,” she said. “Sometimes, the more you see, the less you perceive. When you learn to focus and observe, you will realize you miss a lot of things. It doesn’t take only the eyes to see, after all.”

I rolled my shoulders and rose from my corner with the bottle in hand. I padded over to the woman, tracing her wrinkled forehead and creased eye corners with my gaze before reaching up to offer the bottle to her. “Tell me what you think.”

She leaned towards the scent and took a few whiffs. She smiled. “Evyionne…I do not know what to say…It is exquisite.”

This was one of the scents my mother from my previous life cocktailed . After taking a week, I finally had a…somewhat similar scent. It was still a bit different, though. I didn’t think I would be able to find strictly similar replacements with the ingredients she used on hers. On the other hand, I felt this scent had its own charm. It had a stronger, more lasting finish compared to my mother’s brew, and it had a more sensual curve upon hitting the nose.

“Where did you pick this up, child?” she asked. “It smells wonderful!”

“Thank you.” I grinned wide with victory.

“May I smell it again?”

I passed her the bottle, and she took a long and deep breath.

“What were you thinking when you made this?” Safia inquired.

My mind zeroed back to the moment my previous life’s mother conceived this scent. She had that look in her eyes that said she was content in her creation—a feeling I knew was hard to come by. Being a perfectionist, she pursued the height of her craft even when she wasn’t widely recognized for it.

‘I think of a flower,’ I remembered her saying. ‘One that blossoms even more beautifully each day. You. You are my flower. Ever beautiful, ever strong.’

Before I knew it, a tear fell down my cheek. I took a breath when I felt the warmth trickle down my chin. I wiped my face with my sleeve and sighed softly. Safia lowered the bottle to the side and wrapped her arms around me. She was probably wondering why I was crying when I obviously didn’t have a reason to. I knew it wouldn’t make sense to her, though, even if I told the truth.

“Shh. It’ll be alright, child.”