The Call That Healed
1280 Words
Chapter 25
The café glowed with warm amber lights, the air thick with the scent of roasted beans, cinnamon, and honey. Conversations floated through the air like wisps of smoke—soft, unintrusive. A couple by the window whispered and laughed over pastries. A student clacked away at a laptop. But in the corner, shielded by a tall potted plant and half-drawn curtains, Aria sat alone.
She curled her fingers tightly around a warm mug, letting the heat soak into her palms. Her coffee had gone cold, but she hadn’t noticed. The foam on top had sunken slightly, leaving behind a thin swirl. Her eyes never left the cup. She stared as if it might reveal something—an answer, a sign, a message she was waiting too long to receive.
Her phone lay on the table, face up, screen black. Every now and then, it lit up—an email, an app notification, a news headline. None of them were him. She would reach, hope flickering in her chest, only to pull her hand away with a small sigh that trembled too close to sadness.
She whispered into her coffee mug, almost like praying.
“It’s been three days… Where are you?”
She hadn’t heard his voice since that last conversation—tender, mysterious, and soothing like a lullaby. It felt like something important had cracked open inside her since then. She hadn’t told Lola. Couldn’t. It was too strange to explain. How could she put into words that a voice she barely knew had become her shelter? That the silence that followed his absence felt louder than any storm?
Her phone blinked again.
Still not him.
Aria sighed, picked up the phone, and clutched it to her chest. She closed her eyes. The café sounds dimmed around her. She felt the weight of loneliness pressing on her ribs.
“Please, Elion… call me,” she whispered. “Are you okay? I don’t know who you really are… but you’re in my thoughts constantly.”
A tear threatened at the edge of her lashes. She blinked it away, fiercely, not wanting to cry here—surrounded by strangers, clinking cups, and artificial light. She exhaled slowly, trying to steady herself.
“Call me. Please. Just call…”
Back in the realm beyond the veil, Elion stood tall in a tower carved from obsidian and light. Behind him, the mirror chamber still hummed from the completed ritual. He had not slept—not truly. Even as his body healed, his spirit had been tethered to hers, sensing her ache like an echo in his chest.
He could feel her. The sadness that draped around her like a shawl. The restless nights. The moments she whispered his name with no one to hear her. Her longing—so raw and bright—it tugged at him, calling him back.
He stood beside his grandmother, watching her through the Veil Mirror. The image shimmered, blurred faintly by distance, but her emotions came through sharp and clear.
Her pain was unbearable.
Elion reached toward the glass, pressing his palm to it. The surface rippled beneath his touch.
“I’m here, Aria,” he whispered, his voice filled with longing, with promise.
And then—
Her phone rang.
Aria flinched, her heart leaping into her throat. Her hands scrambled for the phone. She stared at the screen:
Caller ID: Withheld
Her breath caught. Her fingers trembled as she swiped to answer.
“Hello…?” she said, her voice barely above a whisper, fragile with hope.
“I’m sorry I was gone… I missed you,” came the voice. Gentle. Warm. Him.
She froze. Her throat tightened, and for a moment, she couldn’t speak. A smile bloomed through the tears already rushing to her eyes.
“Elion… I thought something happened. I… I’ve been so worried.”
“I had to fight,” he said. “And rest. But your voice kept me strong.”
She gave a soft, breathy laugh, brushing her cheek with her sleeve. “You sound tired.”
“Tired… but happy now,” he replied, his voice a balm.
She closed her eyes and leaned back into the booth cushion, tension melting from her shoulders.
“I don’t know why this feels so real,” she said. “Like I know you… deeper than I’ve known anyone.”
“Because in my world… you’re everything.”
There was a pause. It wasn’t uncomfortable. It was full. Heavy with unsaid things, with the intimacy of shared silence. Her breath slowed.
“Don’t disappear again. Please,” she said.
“Not unless you stop wanting me to call.”
She smiled, eyes sparkling through her lashes. “Then I guess… you’ll be calling forever.”
A soft chuckle passed between them.
“Forever doesn’t sound so long… if it’s with your voice in my ear,” he murmured.
Aria’s heart beat stronger now, steadier. She looked out the window, watching a little girl chase pigeons by the sidewalk. The world felt softer somehow.
“I don’t even know your face. Or your real name. Isn’t that crazy?” she said quietly. “But when I hear you… I feel safe.”
Elion, standing in front of the mirror, let his fingers graze the smooth surface. As if she were just on the other side.
“Sometimes… knowing someone’s heart matters more than seeing their face.”
“And your heart… feels familiar,” she whispered. “Like I’ve known it before. Maybe in another life.”
“Or maybe… this life just took too long to find the right moment.”
She laughed—tired, but sincere. “You always sound like you’re reading from a book of poems.”
He chuckled. “Would you believe me if I said… you inspire every word?”
She blushed, ducking her head slightly as warmth crept up her cheeks. “I needed this. Today. Tonight. You don’t even know.”
“I do. I felt it,” he said. “Every hour I didn’t call, I could feel your sadness.”
Her lips parted, breath catching.
“That’s impossible…”
“Is it?”
Her silence was answer enough.
Around her, the café sounds blurred into white noise. The clink of a spoon. The hiss of steamed milk. Someone humming to a song playing overhead. But none of it reached her. There was only his voice now. And her hand gripping the phone like it tethered her to something vital.
“What are we… El?” she asked, the words leaving her before she could second-guess them.
His response didn’t come immediately. She held her breath.
“Something rare,” he said at last. “Something real. Even if it lives in shadows… for now.”
“But shadows can’t last forever.”
“No,” he said, with quiet determination. “One day, Aria… I’ll find a way to stand before you. Not just as a voice.”
She pressed her lips together, eyes suddenly hot. She didn’t know why she believed him. But she did. Deep in her bones, she believed.
“I’ll be waiting…” she whispered.
There was a brief pause. Then she checked the time.
“My break time is over,” she said reluctantly. “Can we talk… at seven?”
Though he couldn’t be seen, though he was just a voice — she could almost feel the nod.
“Yes. Seven, my dear.”
Her smile lingered long after the call ended.
And the coffee, still untouched, had never tasted sweeter.
Elion told his grandmother that he wants to be with in the dream as promised.
- Writer
