The Arcana - Muriel Fanfics!

8. Confrontation

*holy fairy. this is probablyyyy the longest one I've written so far (and from my phone lmaoo) but there's a lot of stuff to unpack. The soft/romantic/better part of this chapter was prompted by peytonk1364, so thank you! Enjoy<3

The chimes tinkle brightly as Muriel shoulders through the shop door. I trail behind numbly, barely registering where I am, grounded only by the sure warmth of Muriel's hand. I clutch him like a life-line, trying to make myself remember how to move my feet. 

Murderer. Banshee. Conniving snake. 

Each word had struck like a blow. 

Asra appears from behind the curtains, an expression of pleasant surprise on his face. 

"Oh, you two are early. Both kids are asleep, though Morga was especially tired. You would not believe the day she's had, but..." 

His smile slips and falters at Muriel's weary look. Asra's lilac gaze slides to me. I stare straight back at him, boring into his eyes and willing the questions to present themselves. Who was I? Do you remember? Did you even know?  Asra holds my gaze, steady and sombre. His eyes seems to be asking questions, too. What happened? What's wrong?  Are you okay? Muriel closes his eyes, letting out a long sigh. 

"...There was an...incident. In the market," he mumbles, squeezing my hand. "Some men...sailors, or...I don't know, they just...they knew Val. They remembered her from...from before." The words hang unspoken, heavy and wrong. Murderer, banshee, snake. They roll round and round in my head, mocking the memories I don't have. 

Asra's eyes soften, and his lips form a hard, thin line. "I see." He turns, silently padding over to a sprawl of cushions and blankets on the floor. Flicking his wrist absently, the kettle springs to life, pouring fresh boiled tea into several mismatched cups. With a wave of his fingers, the cups drift over to him as if born by an invisible breeze. Asra flops down onto a cushion, the cup floating into his waiting hands. The other two land on the ground beside the other cushions with light thunks.

I shake the shadows and numbness from my mind, tentatively lowering myself onto the ground. Muriel grumbles, but eventually sits cross-legged beside me. There's so many questions, jostling and crowding in my head. But one in particular presses into my conscious, nibbling away at me since this morning. Children first, then me. Always.

"Asra, firstly, about Mor. I felt...I can't explain it, but I felt magic. Her magic." I cast a meaningful look to the back room, to the stairway I know leads to my sleeping daughter. Right now...I want nothing more to curl  up beside her and the baby, and never let them go. Muriel takes a thoroughly assertive sip of tea. A shadow of Asra's grin returns as he smiles into his own cup.

"Mmm, yeah, I felt it too. It was powerful for someone so young, but..." Asra shrugs. "Mor opened her gate today. At first I thought she brought her physical body with her." My mind sharpens, and I sit a little straighter. "She didn't?" I thought...some of the worry loosens around my shoulders. Only a little, though. I shrink back miserably, clutching my cup. 

Asra looks sheepish, rubbing the back of his neck. "We found her body in an alley and brought it safely to the shop. She'd walked herself straight into a brick wall, and while I suppose her spiritual self actually went through the gate, she knocked her physical body out cold." A floodgate of concerns fills my chest, but Muriel beats me to it.

"My daughter just...happened to be in...an alley." While his tone is calm, there's no mistaking the iron in Muriel's voice. Asra just waves him off. "I know, there's every right to be concerned, but she really is fine." I relax a little, sipping my tea. But it tastes like ash in my mouth. My fingers are numb, and anxiety sluices around my stomach like icy water. Murderer, banshee, snake.