[DISCONTINUED] CAPTIVATED || CAMILO M.

thirteen.

“Go on, Mira,” you nudged her shoulder with yours, holding onto the rim of the large vase that hid your crouching figure from any eyes. Your position was just across Isabela’s room, currently trying to convince the clearly annoyed Madrigal beside you that things would be fine. Not like Bruno was having a good time listening to her persistent rambling about her older sister’s perfection and grace. “Just get on over with it.”

Her reaction was very contradicting to the initial expectation you have of her regarding this situation, “Get on over with it? This is Isa we’re talking about!” A groan from the old man beside you was audible  as the gift-less girl proceeded on, with a forcedly hushed voice, defending her case that Isabela was indeed a painfully aggravating human that has ever stepped on earth. 

“I don’t even know why she hates me, augh. Of course it had to be Isa, she is Señorita Perfecta who has never experienced a bad hair day,” At this point, you were unsure if she was even talking to the people in front of her or to herself. It was obviously the latter.

“Mira.” Bruno called out cautiously, afraid to be heard by anyone who might be passing by. 

The girl ignored his call and continued on.  “She always puts the blame on me, and for what? Recognition that yet again she’s the perfect grandchild for Abuela?” This time, venom dripped from her words, face scrunched as her fingers were curling from rage. 

“Mirabel.” You called this time, helping the anxious rat-man. No, Mirabel didn’t care nor even spared you a look, she was too indulged in her thoughts to even pay attention.

“What does the vision want from me and her anyway? She’s always acting like I’ve ruined her life over some big dumb hunk!” The tiled floor of the Casita barely accepts its ill fate of being the receiving end of Mirabel vociferating her opinions regarding her relative. Time was of great importance in this matter, unfortunately for your trio, it was slowly wasted away every second a complaint was released from Mirabel’s lips. 

From the distance, you could barely see the flame of the candle dancing along with the wind, flickering ever so slightly. The small source of light was visibly losing its strength, its size gradually decreasing with each minute. Normally, you could bear the neverending fountain of foul descriptions about the oldest Madrigal grandchild, if the situation wasn’t going to affect the magic that holds the very refuge the village resides in, sure. 

“Mirabel!” Equally as shocked as you, Mirabel finally snapped out of her thoughts and looked at you and her tío before gulping slightly from the change in attitude the usual timid uncle presented. His voice requested- no, demanded authority. Features traced with confidence. 

It was rare for anyone to see this meek rat-man act like that, easily scolding his own niece in such a manner. His voice was usually laced with such innocence and benevolence that resembled his two sisters in a way that doesn’t make you wish to know how they would lecture their children, though. It just showed that even Bruno has to set his own foot down. You were still amazed nonetheless. 

“Sorry, sorry,” And there goes all his confidence down the drain. “Look, the fate of the magic is not up to Isabela, it’s up to you.” 

His words hid no lie. What happens from here on out is up to Mirabel alone, if she were to back down or if she were to complete this quest, it was her choice. Bruno’s vision showed her for a reason, if anything this was her destiny. A destiny she can choose to leave or accept. 

Your mouth opened, attempting to follow suit with the encouraging words her tío offered. “MIRABEL!” The attempt was proven to be futile as a familiar voice had reminded you of the side-mission you had to complete. The three of you peeked through the plants’ leaves, checking to see which direction the voice originated from.