Azriel Capoue

Chapter 3

I kept looking at my vague reflection in the window, trying hard to see my face clearly. A mirror would have been a good fit for that, but I preferred the hazy image the glass window showed me. It made me see what I felt, like I was there, and not there -- Like a soul without a physical body – in this case, a body without a soul. Though I could tell my soul was intact without a grain of a doubt, Yet, I still felt the emptiness within me. It isn't a normal thing for someone to sleep and then wake up to a completely different world than the one they knew. Or, wake up in an older version of themselves, with longer and firmer bone structures, a matured and longer face, a deeper voice. During the first weeks of waking up and finding out about everything, I was convinced I was in an alternate universe – because my last memory was being a nine-year-old girl with short arms, short hair, a tiny nose, a small set of teeth, and a tiny voice. Now, I'm much taller, and, I mean everything about my body had change.

How's this even possible? This can't be real! That was the first thing I'd say to myself every night when I was about to go to sleep, and every morning when I woke up. Sometimes I got scared to fall asleep because I kept thinking I might wake up in another time where everything is much worse than it already is – as if what had happened to me and what I'd heard happen to my family wasn't already the worst. Well, I can't argue that I slept and woke up after eight years. The thing is, I drowned and went into coma; at least that's what Aunt Liz told me. I didn't know for a fact if that's what really happened – I couldn't remember. But I believed her. It did feel like a coma... that is, right after I'd woken up. My eyes felt like they hadn't been used in ages... quite frankly, my entire body felt that way. What I didn't understand at the time was why and how I drowned. I didn't remember using anything that looked like it had a drowning capability. Our entire town had only one way to get water. The well. . . Which I never got close to, because our parents had warned us not to; And aside that, the thing looked too dark and creepy for me. I hated seeing it even from a distance. I knew for a fact that I didn't drown in the well. So, how exactly did I drown?

"Azriel...!" Aunt Liz called from downstairs. "Come down for breakfast."

"Cominggg", I responded loudly, on top of my voice.

I pushed myself up with the help of my blackthorn shillelagh stick. My right leg hadn't fully recovered like the rest of my other body parts, even though two full months had passed since my awakening. I carefully threw my right leg forward, along with the shillelagh, and then rested my entire weight on the wood with my right hand before hurling the left foot. I'd been walking like that for a while. It was slow, yes, but it got me by.

"Ah - crap!" I'd totally forgotten about it until I stood at the top of it and looked down. Worry drawn all over my face. That was my ultimate challenge, descending and ascending the stairs. I hated it so much. It made me feel so helpless and weak, which was accurate considering my health and physical state, and I knew that very well, but having a staircase prove it to me agitated me. The spaces between it vertically were huge; the height from one step to the other I mean, yet, narrow horizontally. Well, I'd say it was long and short at the same time, and I don't mean the distance from the head to the foot of the stairs. That made climbing and descending frustrating. I suggested to Aunt Liz that I get the downstairs room instead, so that it would be easier to walk in and out of the dining room but she refused – and gave me a perfect explanation for it. I wished I closed my ears when she started explaining; 'cos I couldn't protest afterwards. I understood, and agreed with her reasoning. Exercising was the quickest way for me to recover and get back on my feet – though they were a new pair of feet. I'd quickly gotten used to the left, but the right proved a little more stubborn.

I barely made it over the stairs, almost falling a couple of times. I had to hook myself to the narrow space between the wooden hand and the walls to get a firmer grip of myself. I headed over to the dining room right when both my feet landed on the last step. Aunt Liz had already sat – Mirabel got into her seat when I got there.

Aunt Liz chuckled slightly right after my butt dropped in the chair. I sent my eyes straight to her, then Mirabel and I eyed each other for a while, until we both looked at her again.

"You checked, didn't you?" She said and looked at me.

"I – checked?" I asked, confused.

She smiled. "You checked who was taller."

"Oh –" I laughed. "Of course, I did. It feels somewhat good to know that some things haven't changed though many years have passed... And me being taller than Mirabel is one of those things, if not the only thing."

Mirabel shook her head slightly with a light smile. "You know, tall people get a serious waist injury when they grow old?"

"Well, short people also get. . . I don't know, short people are. . . just short."

"Ha-ha, very funny." She shook her head in disappointment.

Breakfast was a soft heaped mixed berry pancakes, with maple syrup threaded upon the top. I didn't count or ask how many pancakes had been put on top of each other, but my guess was ten... or even more. It was so large and heaped, I could easily hide one of dad's giant alchemy books under and no one would notice. Aunt Liz was definitely over-feeding me. But I wouldn't utter a word about it, because if I did, she'd just say the same thing. "You need loads of nutrients and energy to recover." And how else would I get those if not with food – well, a plethora of food. I just hoped I wouldn't turn into a glutton after I'd fully recovered.

I pounced on the food right away.

I sighed and smiled with both my eyes closed when the soft warm piece of pancakes melted in my mouth, with the maple syrup spreading across my tongue. It almost tasted like candy.

"How is it?" Aunt Liz asked.

"As always Aunt Liz, it's amazing."

Aunt Liz was an amazing cook. Everything of hers tasted astounding and unique. Even a glass of water coming directly from her tasted different. She liked what she did – she liked cooking, and she did it a lot so she got really good at it. Though her skills were more of talent than hard work or persistence, or experience.

"That's my mom for you", Mirabel says.

"I know right!"

We smiled at each other and continue eating.

Mirabel's pancakes weren't as heaped as mine so just after a few minutes she was already half way through. I hadn't even had one-fourth of mine yet. Well, that might have been because I was somewhat a long chewer. I had the tendency of chewing every single particle into its finest finish until I swallowed, and I did that much slower than I should. It made me get the complete in and out taste of the food before sending it to my stomach for more processing.

"So, do you miss it?" Mirabel muttered softly.

"Hmm --?" I said with a load in my mouth.

"Do you miss it? Your mom's cooking...?"

Aunt Liz turned her eyes to Mirabel immediately and gave her a wild look. It looked like she might have already warned her not to bring up any topic about my family. Her face showed it. Mirabel's face showed it too. Her face had become apologetic, like a dog who'd bitten his owner's friend and being scolded for it.

"Sorry for bringing it up Az – "

"No --- it's fine, Mira. Honestly, I appreciate you bringing up the topic. I know Aunt Liz doesn't talk about them, about my family, because she doesn't want to remind me and hurt me – but I want to talk about them. I still don't understand what happened to them, or how, or who's responsible for that. I don't want to forget about them. . . I don't want the memory I have of them to fade away. And we talking about them reassures me of that. My crying days might not be over – I don't want it to be. To be honest, I feel like I'm in a never-ending nightmare. But that shouldn't stop you from talking about it. And yes, I do miss my mom's cooking. I miss the taste of her Omelets. . . I miss the smell of her meatballs. . . I miss her smell. . . I – I... I miss her."

An image of Mom in the kitchen popped up in my head randomly, and both my eyes leaked right away. I missed you so much. . . Mom... Dad... Azra...

"Your dad, and your mom... and Azra, are no more." Aunt Liz told me on the night of my awakening. I was confused – So confused that I almost went crazy.
Why did I wake up to this? I shouldn't have woken up at all. How could something this terrible happen to us?