Whispers of the Lullaby(Part-4)

You can read out Episode 3 link in below..

Episode 4: The Price of Wishing

The room lay tranquil with silence alive; Mira sat limiting herself at the edge beside Ella, all wrapped in the blanket, with the old brown book open before them. The music box and note on the bed felt almost vibrating with presence.

Ella turned a page.

The title at the top read:

“Chapter One: The Dream maker’s Song”

"Long ago, far in a time when dreams became holy, there lived a sad craftsman at the bubbling edges of the world. He had no relations and not even any friends; he had his melodies, which came to him from sleep. Every morning, he simply inhabited the act of carving wood, silvering, and enshrining his own soul with his creation of a solitary little object, unlike any other-a music box."

"This music box, he believed, could carry the heart's deepest wish through its song. And he was right-for when the music played, it would be heard. It would hear the soul, and it would answer what the soul requested, even though the mouth never uttered a word."

Mira looked up. “It... it is able to hear what we dream of?” Ella faltered. "Well, that's what it says."

She flipped the page to find the next section scrawled in darker ink, as if added later.

"But dreams are never free."

"The first to use it wished for love - a girl who had longed for someone to see. She played the melody every night, and within days he had arrived at her door. By the next full moon, though, her voice was gone. She spoke no more. The price had been paid."

Mira held the blanket tighter. "That's horrible..."

"Another played the tune to see her mother, who died. That night she dreamed of her mother's arms, but upon waking she found that each time she forgot a little more, first the title of her favorite book, then her sister's face, and finally her own name."

"The music box gives what your soul asks for, even if you don't know what that is. And it always takes in return: time, memory, voice, or worse."

Mira shivered. "Ella... we brought it home."

Ella turned the page again. This one was near devoid of text. Just a course sentence centered on it: "If you play the song three times, the box is yours." "If you play it a fourth time, you belong to the song." They both stared at the words. All of a sudden, the room went chilly.

Mira whispered, "We've already played it twice already..."

Ella made no immediate reply; she reached forth and slowly closed the book.

"I think we should stop." It looked small, so delicate, harmless even. But now it felt full of menace.

Mira's eyes fell upon the music box. "It is something we keep concealed," Ella began. "We do not play it again. At least not unless we...”

“Unless we what?” Mira insisted,"

Ella did not reply. But the expression in her eyes said it all: unless we had no option left.

Outside, a gentle wind stirred. In the distance, as if wind carried it through the trees, the distant echo of a lullaby was heard, starting once again… of its own accord.