Muse Part 3

The Reverberating Echo was the kind of place Bell would have walked past a hundred times without noticing. Tucked between shadowed alleys and nondescript storefronts, it gave no indication of its magic from the outside. Tonight, however, as Callum guided her and Calista toward the small, unassuming door, Bell felt the air shimmer with a faint hum, a subtle vibration that tickled her senses.

“This is it?” Bell asked, glancing skeptically at the plain grey brick building. A carved spiral adorned the small wooden sign above the entrance, barely visible in the weak glow of the streetlights.

Callum grinned, his sandy curls catching the faint light as he turned to her. “Never judge a book by its cover, Bell. The best places always hide in plain sight.”

“Or they’re just forgotten relics,” Bell muttered, but the soft, teasing lilt of her voice betrayed her curiosity.

Calista, walking beside them, let out a low, musical laugh, her silvery hair shimmering as she moved. “Trust Callum on this one. The Reverberating Echo is more than a place—it’s an experience.”

Bell glanced at her, still struggling to untangle her conflicting emotions about Calista. The woman seemed to glow, as if lit from within, her elegance and confidence both intimidating and strangely magnetic. When Bell had first met her, she’d felt like a shadow in comparison. But Calista, with her perceptive, disarming charm, had made it impossible to feel excluded. She’d folded Bell into their dynamic with an effortless warmth that had surprised her.

“Ready to step into another dimension?” Callum asked, his hand hovering near the door handle.

“Depends,” Bell replied, lifting a brow. “Is this going to involve more surreal paintings or strange things I’m supposed to eat?”

Callum chuckled, pushing the door open with a flourish. “Oh, it’ll be strange, all right.”

The moment they stepped inside, Bell’s breath caught in her throat. The cavernous room seemed to ripple, as though the air itself had taken on a liquid quality. Soft, resonant notes of music danced faintly through the space, reverberating off mirrored walls that twisted and multiplied the reflections of the room endlessly. Floating crystal sconces cast a rippling glow, creating pools of light that spilled across the mirrored floor and ceiling.

“It’s like stepping into a dream,” Bell murmured, her voice almost swallowed by the space, only to hear it repeat back to her in a soft echo: *stepping into a dream... a dream...*

Calista tilted her head, a smile tugging at her lips. “Exactly. The Echo collects everything—light, sound, movement—and plays it back. You’re walking through layers of moments.”

“It’s eerie,” Bell admitted, her gaze following the shifting shadows of other patrons, their forms distorted and multiplied by the mirrors. A faint thrill buzzed through her chest, a mixture of awe and unease.

Callum stepped closer, his eyes sparkling with excitement. “It’s meant to be. Every corner of this place reveals something different. Come on, I’ll show you my favorite spot.”

Calista drifted ahead, pausing to greet someone with a graceful nod and a soft laugh. Bell hesitated, watching how effortlessly the two of them seemed to belong in this surreal, otherworldly space. Callum noticed her hesitation and touched her elbow lightly.

“Hey,” he said softly, his voice steady and kind. “You’re with us. Let the place pull you in—it’ll make sense soon.”

Bell nodded, swallowing the knot of uncertainty in her throat, and followed him deeper into the maze of reflections and echoes, ready to uncover whatever strange magic The Reverberating Echo had to offer.

They wandered deeper into the gallery, past walls hung with mirrors that distorted their reflections, twisting and elongating them, making Bell’s and Calista’s faces meld into abstract shapes when they walked too close together. Every corner held new curiosities: prisms dangling from the ceiling like delicate chandeliers, casting rainbows that twisted across the floor, and rows of crystals positioned to catch even the faintest sound, magnifying it until whispers became a low, melodic hum.

“The whole concept is based on echoes,” Callum explained, his voice hushed with awe. “Every step, every breath—it’s captured in these crystals. The room’s alive with all these different sounds, bouncing off each other like ghosts.”

He leaned in close to Bell, pointing to a large crystal set on a low pedestal. “Place your hand on it. Gently.”

Bell hesitated, then pressed her palm against the crystal’s cool, smooth surface. At first, nothing happened, but slowly, she heard it—a soft, whispering echo, like voices murmuring underwater. She could just make out faint words in fragments of old conversations: confessions, laughter, poetry, lingering notes of songs she couldn’t quite place. She shivered, the intimacy of it both thrilling and haunting.

As they continued, Calista and Bell found themselves side by side, admiring a long crystal archway that shimmered as if it held liquid starlight within. Calista glanced over, giving Bell a conspiratorial smile. “Isn’t it something? Callum always knows the best places. He’s a bit of a legend in these circles,” she said, her tone warm with affection.

Bell nodded, relaxing at Calista’s friendly manner. “He’s certainly… full of surprises,” she replied, her voice a little sheepish.

Calista laughed, a sound like silver bells echoing through the gallery. “Oh, he has that effect on people. One moment you’re an acquaintance, and the next, you feel like you’ve known him forever.” She looked at Bell, her gaze curious and kind. “You’re lucky. He doesn’t bring just anyone to places like these.”

Bell felt a warmth spread through her at Calista’s words, and her earlier jealousy melted into gratitude. Calista seemed as enchanted by the evening as she was, and before long, they were exchanging quiet observations, pointing out shapes they saw in the mirrored walls or making each other laugh with playful whispers about the more eccentric patrons wandering through the gallery.

In the centre of the room, Callum, noticing their connection, grinned and motioned them over. “You two seem to be hitting it off,” he remarked, his eyes sparkling with approval.

Calista nodded, linking her arm with Bell’s as if they were already old friends. “I told Bell here that I think this piece”—she gestured to a floating mirror that reflected their distorted shapes in a thousand fragments—“looks like what our lives would look like if they were drawn by an ancient god with a fondness for puzzles.”

Bell laughed, feeling a deep bond blooming between them, as if this strange, ethereal place had wrapped them in its magic, drawing them closer. For the first time that evening, she allowed herself to let go, to be present, marvelling at the pieces surrounding them and savouring every fragment of conversation.

Eventually, they reached the heart of the gallery—a massive circular room where a crystal dome stretched overhead, amplifying the room’s soft, haunting echoes. As they stood together under the dome, Bell closed her eyes, letting the resonant sounds wash over her, feeling her thoughts blend into the echoes like water merging with a river.

When she opened her eyes, Callum was smiling at her, his gaze soft, while Calista held her hand, her own expression one of deep contentment.

“It’s beautiful,” Bell whispered, finding her voice swallowed by the echo, reverberating back at her from every angle.

“Yes,” Callum replied, his eyes gleaming. “But this is just the beginning.”

The trio left The Reverberating Echo as the night deepened, its haunting symphony lingering in their ears like the remnants of a dream. Bell had no intention of heading home; the thought of leaving the enchanting energy of the evening behind felt unbearable. Callum, as if reading her mind, turned with that ever-present grin of his and said, “How about we keep this going? I know a place you’ll never forget.”

Calista tilted her head, her silvery hair catching the moonlight as she smiled knowingly. “The Sunlit Veil?”

Callum nodded. “Of course. Where else?”

Bell didn’t ask questions; she didn’t want to. The idea of experiencing something else as magical as the evening they’d just shared was irresistible.

The Sunlit Veil was tucked into the folds of Dûrnarn’s upper layers, it was accessible only through a narrow alleyway flanked by towering, ancient stone walls. At the end of the alley was an unassuming door carved with intricate patterns that shimmered faintly in the dim light. Callum tapped on the door twice, the sound oddly muffled, as if the wood absorbed the knock.

The door swung open without a sound, revealing a spiralling staircase bathed in golden light, as though the sun itself had been captured and poured into the narrow passage. Bell’s breath caught as she followed Callum and Calista up the steps, each one vibrating faintly beneath her feet, almost as if urging her onward. When they emerged, it was like stepping into a world entirely separate from the shadowed city below.

The Sunlit Veil was a rooftop garden drenched in perpetual, golden radiance, an illusion so perfect that Bell instinctively glanced upward to confirm it wasn’t true daylight. Lanterns floated effortlessly in the air, their light cascading over the space in soft, warm waves. Each lantern seemed to hold a miniature sun, its glow so vivid that it cast delicate, dappled shadows of the plants and trellises across the ground. No matter where Bell turned, the garden shimmered with the illusion of mid-morning sunlight, even as the real city beyond the rooftop lay cloaked in the cool evening.

Vines adorned with tiny luminescent flowers climbed trellises, their petals glowing faintly as they opened and closed in rhythm with the garden’s unseen pulse. The light made the colours around her impossibly vivid: the deep emerald of the foliage, the fiery oranges and pinks of the blossoms, the silvery sheen of dew catching the glow. The golden light was so all-encompassing that it made the air itself feel warm, as though it carried the essence of sunlight within it.

The garden stretched out in every direction, dotted with clusters of people lounging on plush cushions or reclining on low, elegant benches carved from smooth, crystalline stone. Soft laughter and murmured conversations blended seamlessly with the faint hum of the lanterns, giving the space a sense of intimacy despite its size.

At the centre of it all was a circular dais, encircled by floating crystals that pulsed in time with the gentle strains of live music. Musicians played instruments Bell couldn’t recognize—long, curved harps strung with threads of light, flutes carved from translucent crystal that shimmered as they sang. The notes seemed to twine with the golden light, reverberating through the garden and heightening the feeling of being suspended in some eternal moment.

The air was heavy with the scent of something sweet and intoxicating, like a mix of jasmine and oranges basking in the warmth of summer sun. Bell inhaled deeply, the fragrance wrapping around her like a comforting embrace. For a moment, she forgot the city below, the weight of her thoughts, and the complexities of her feelings. Here, in this radiant, magical haven, it was easy to believe that time itself had paused, holding the moment like a precious jewel.

Callum grinned at her reaction, his face bathed in the golden glow. “Impressive, isn’t it?” he said, his voice low, as though afraid to disturb the delicate balance of the scene.

Bell could only nod, her gaze sweeping over the ethereal beauty before her. She felt as if she were walking through a dream, one she never wanted to wake from.

“This is…” Bell struggled for words, her voice caught in her throat. She turned to Callum, who was watching her with a smile.

“Welcome to The Sunlit Veil,” he said, spreading his arms as if presenting a gift. “A place for artists, dreamers, and anyone who wants to forget the weight of the city for a while.”

Calista took Bell’s hand, leading her toward a group of cushions arranged near the edge of the rooftop, where the view stretched out over the glittering city below. They settled down, Bell still dazed by the beauty of it all. Callum disappeared briefly, returning with three glasses filled with a glowing, golden liquid that seemed to sparkle with its own inner light.

“What is this?” Bell asked, holding her glass cautiously.

“A drink they call Aurielis,” Calista explained, her voice soft. “It’s infused with magic. It’s said to make the world feel brighter, to open your senses.”

Bell hesitated, then took a sip. Warmth spread through her, not just in her chest but in her thoughts, her very soul. The music seemed to deepen, the lights grew more vivid, and the air itself felt alive.

They spent the night surrounded by the garden’s strange beauty, losing themselves in laughter and conversation. Callum introduced Bell to nearly everyone they passed—musicians, poets, painters, even a weaver who used threads of light to create tapestries that shimmered with moving images.

As the hours stretched into the early morning, Bell found herself lying back on the cushions, staring up at the night sky, her heart light and full. Callum was beside her, his face turned toward the stars, a faint smile playing on his lips. Calista sat nearby, weaving glowing flowers into a crown, humming a melody that seemed to blend with the music in the air.

Bell closed her eyes for a moment, letting the peace of the moment settle over her. When she opened them again, the faintest light of dawn was creeping over the horizon, casting the sky in soft gold. She knew she would remember this night forever.