Why does he even have this? I thought, a shiver running down my spine. I couldn't believe my eyes.
"Come, Xian, dear," my grandmother interrupted, her voice warm and comforting. "Have some tea." She handed me a steaming cup, her smile as sweet as the fragrant brew.
"Thank you, Grandma," I replied, returning her smile.
"You've become so beautiful," she observed, her eyes twinkling with affection.
"He's a man, mom," Uncle Antony chuckled.
"Oh, lord!" My grandmother patted my shoulder. "You look very handsome."
"Thank you," I said, a warmth spreading through me despite the unsettling surroundings.
"The last time I saw you, you were always clinging to your grandfather. He was so happy to have you close, always teaching you old Javanese words... prayers..."
Old Javanese words... prayers...?
I tilted my head, trying to recall any memories from my early childhood.
Uncle Antony chimed in, "Ah, yes. When Xian was a kid, Father would always carry him around, chanting something in old Javanese and teaching him prayers."
"Prayers... old Javanese words?" I repeated, a sense of curiosity piqued.
My grandmother nodded, her eyes clouding over with a distant memory. "Yes, your grandfather was a devout man," she said softly. "He believed that the old prayers held power, a connection to our ancestors and the spirit world."
She paused, taking a sip of her tea. "He would often chant a particular mantra, It was a prayer for protection, a shield against evil forces. He said it was passed down through generations, a sacred secret of our family."
Intrigued, I leaned forward. "What was the mantra, Grandma?" I asked, my voice eager.
She smiled, a hint of sadness in her eyes. "I don't remember the exact words," she confessed. "It was a long time ago, and I was never as interested in those things as your grandfather was."
Disappointment washed over me, but I didn't give up. "Do you remember anything about it? Any fragments, any clues?"
She closed her eyes, her brow furrowed in concentration. "It was... something about... a hidden eye, A third eye that could see the truth behind the veil of reality."
A shiver ran down my spine. The words echoed the creature's cryptic message about the Unsealing of Eyes. Could there be a connection?
"And... the old Javanese words?" I pressed, my voice trembling with anticipation.
She opened her eyes, a flicker of recognition in their depths. "Yes, I remember a few words... mata batin, wahyu, kesadaran..."
I scribbled the words down in my notebook, my heart pounding with excitement. These words, these fragments of a forgotten prayer, could be the key to unlocking the secrets of my past, my abilities, and the mysterious figure that haunted me.
"Y-You know something about that?" I asked my grandmother, my voice filled with a mixture of hope and trepidation.
She shook her head slowly, a sad smile on her face. "I only know what your grandfather told me," she said softly. "But I never truly understood the extent of his knowledge."
"Are you interested in all of this?" Uncle Antony interjected, a hint of amusement in his voice.
"Well... kind of," I admitted, hesitantly.
"Is it because of your schizophrenia?" he asked bluntly.
My grandmother gasped, her hand flying to her mouth. "Oh my, are you schizophrenic?"
"Don't you remember, Mom?" Uncle Antony asked, exasperated.
"Oh dear," she mumbled, her face flushing with embarrassment. "I think I forgot."
A growing sense of unease settled over me. There must be something more to this, I thought to myself.
Something hidden that I need to uncover.
Just then, Uncle Antony turned to my grandmother. "Mom, do you remember that tomorrow is the anniversary of Father's death?"
She nodded solemnly, her face etched with a quiet sadness. "Yes, and don't forget to bring everyone here, okay?"
Uncle Antony nodded in agreement.
"How did Grandpa die?" I asked, curiosity overcoming my hesitation.
Both of them turned to look at me, their expressions a mixture of surprise and sorrow.
"Well... it was a week after you were born," Uncle Antony began, his voice heavy. "He had a heart attack..."
"Yes," my grandmother added softly. "It was sudden and unexpected. But he was so happy to see you come into this world."
A week after my birth...
The timing was too coincidental. A cold shiver ran down my spine. Could my birth have triggered something? Was there a connection between my grandfather's death and the shadowy figure that haunted me?
The questions swirled in my mind, each one more unsettling than the last. I knew I couldn't rest until I uncovered the truth.
"Nagisa!" A voice called out from the front yard, jolting me from my thoughts.
My grandmother rose from her chair. "Wait here, it seems my cousin is here."
Nagisa... That didn't sound like a local name. Could my grandmother also be of mixed heritage?
She hurried to the front door, opening it to reveal a woman of similar age, accompanied by a young woman.
"Oh! Manda, come in! My grandson is here!" my grandmother exclaimed.
"Really? I've brought my granddaughter along as well..."
The two women entered the living room, their voices filled with excitement.
Uncle Antony and I stood up as the other grandmother, Manda, walked in. We both bent down to kiss her hand, a customary gesture of respect.
"Oh my, is this Xian Ying? Rhido's son?" she asked, her eyes sparkling with warmth.
Rhido was my father's name. So, this was my grandmother's cousin, another grandmother to me.
I nodded and smiled, then noticed the young woman standing behind her. She was strikingly pale compared to the rest of us, with short hair and a sharp jawline. Was she Chinese as well?
Manda gestured towards the young woman. "And this is my granddaughter, Dove. Isn't she pretty?"
"Grandma..." Dove muttered, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment. She looked away, clearly not appreciating being paraded like a prize.
"Take a seat, take a seat!" My grandmother, Nagisa, ushered us towards the seating area.
We settled onto the floor, cushioned by colorful woven mats. The two grandmothers chatted animatedly, their voices filling the room.
< Chapter 008 > Fin.