Echoes from the Past
Some songs never die — they just wait to be heard again."
---
Noen stood before Harmonia's old auditorium.
A forgotten place — right in the center of the city,
yet people walked past it like it never existed.
Peeling paint. Broken boards.
Rusty doors with signs that said "SILENCE ZONE."
As if the building itself was ashamed of its past.
But Noen knew…
this was once where the city sang.
He placed his hand on the door.
It didn't open with force —
it opened like a sigh.
A breath released after years of holding in pain.
Darkness greeted him inside.
Only dust danced in the light shafts cutting through broken windows.
Sera followed.
> "This place shut down during my father's time," she whispered.
"They say… one song drove the whole city mad."
Noen's voice was gentle.
> "Then maybe… we're here to find the place
where the world first remembered its voice."
They stepped inside.
Each footstep creaked —
like the building itself was remembering pain.
In the far corner,
Noen spotted a rusted music stand.
Faded.
Cracked.
Covered in dust.
He brushed it gently.
A name was carved beneath the grime.
"E.L."
Sera frowned.
> "E.L.? …Could that be Elya?"
"The Melody Witch?"
Noen's heartbeat jumped.
Old myths. Forbidden songs. Ancient bards…
He lifted the stand.
A torn music sheet was stuck beneath.
No lyrics.
Just fragmented notes.
> "No words," Noen murmured.
"Just… melodies between the silence."
Sera raised her violin.
> "Let's bring it back."
Noen struck a soft chord.
Then another.
Their instruments began to hum in sync —
and suddenly,
the air in the auditorium shifted.
The walls cracked open slightly.
A layer of old paint fell off,
revealing a mural beneath —
an old bard performing, arms wide open,
in front of a massive crowd.
People were laughing.
Crying.
Holding each other.
Alive.
Noen's hands froze.
> "This place wasn't just a hall," he said.
"It was an echo chamber."
"And the echoes… are still here."
Sera smiled.
> "Then let's play.
So they find their way home."
Together,
they played the full melody.
And in that broken, breathless auditorium —
where silence had ruled for decades —
for one moment…
they heard it.
Laughter.
A cheer.
A faint memory of applause.
There were no people.
Only echoes.
And the music…
that never died.
---
End of Chapter 8
🕊️ "Where all voices go quiet, even one old note becomes a revolution."