#fiasharya

One night, as they traveled, she woke up shivering, which shocked her enough to sit straight up, feeling around for the blanket she had been sleeping with. But what she felt instead was wind whipping around the tent, almost strong enough to rip it off the ground, and she heard whimpering coming from her side, where Leon was sleeping.

They were curled up into a tight, painful looking ball, arms wrapped around themself, breathing ragged. She leaned closer to them, hearing them murmuring under their breath, but when she tried to wake them, touching their shoulder gently, they flinched, and lashed out towards her. She managed to duck just as a gust of wind flew past her head, cutting through the fabric of the tent, and a moment later Jamil entered the tent from where he had been standing guard outside.

He looked between them both, dark eyebrows knit together as the wind almost pushed him a step back. “What’s happening?” he asked, voice raised.

“I don’t know,” Camia said, but as the wind took her voice away, she repeated herself, almost screaming. “I don’t know!”

Jamil winced as sand started whirling around them, but started to move towards Leon, reaching one hand out to them. “Lee! Leon, wake up!”

Camia could see their mouth moving, still mumbling something, but she couldn’t hear them—at least, until Jamil’s hand touched their ankle, and then they screamed like he had burned them.

“No!”

Both Camia and Jamil’s hands flew to cover their ears, and as the wind picked up even more, the tent was ripped away, barely hanging onto one post. They fell to their knees to keep from being blown back, but it was getting harder and harder to stay close to Leon, where the wind was the strongest, Leon’s hair twisting around them in the air like ribbon.

Leon was no longer curled up, instead they thrashed on the ground, fighting off something or someone that neither Camia nor Jamil could see. Camia was sure they were still asleep, but had no idea what they were dreaming of, or how she could help. Before she had time to think of anything, Jamil tried, fighting against the wind, to grab hold of Leon again and keep them still, his hands on their shoulders.

“Wake up!”

Again, they screamed, voice breaking in a sob, struggling against him. Camia felt the wind start to pick up so much that the sand cut into her skin as it flew by, but Leon didn’t wake up. Instead, they continued to yell, bracing to lash out at Jamil like they had at her. “Let go of me, please, please, just, let go of me—"

A flash of red knocked both Camia and Jamil far from Leon, just as a blast of air went over their heads, something that would have killed them if it had landed.

Struggling to catch their breath from having it knocked out of them in addition to the vortex of wind that was now encircling Leon, Jamil and Camia looked up into the eyes of Fiasharya, Leon’s familiar. She had a clawed foot pressed to each of their chests, not to threaten them, but to keep them in place.

“Fish, what’s going on?” Camia cried, trying to sit up.

Fish shook her head, feathers ruffling in the wind. My baby is having a nightmare. A very, very bad one.

“And that’s causing the wind?”

Jamil glanced between them. “What are you talking about, what is she saying?”

The nightmare isn’t causing the wind, my baby is. He can’t control it like this, his magic. It’s too strong.

Unable to sit up against Fish’s weight, Camia peered over her to see Leon’s vortex start lifting them off the ground. “They’re going to get hurt—is there nothing we can do?”

We have to wait for him to wake up. Once he’s awake, I can take some of the magic away, but it would hurt him otherwise.

Jamil grunted, pushing Fish off of him. “I’m going to get them—”

Another wave of sand and wind pushed him right back down, and Camia reached out to him. “You can’t, we have to wait for them to wake up!”

“But you said they’re going to get hurt—”

Fish leaned into Jamil’s face, and Camia could tell by the way he winced that he could finally hear her voice in his head. If you try to get any closer, my baby is going to kill you.

“Wh-what?”

It wouldn’t be the first time his magic has killed someone, but it would break him if he hurt you. Stay back.

Jamil and Camia fell silent, staring wide-eyed at each other. Camia knew Leon’s magic was strong, she felt it every day, had felt it for years now, and she felt it even more when they first met and fought, but this was different. The growing power of the wind was almost taking the breath from her lungs, and the sand was still sharp against her skin.

A wail pulled all of their attention back to Leon, who was clutching at their head, floating far above them. “No—stop it—I-I don’t want this, I don’t want to do this—” Their eyes opened, flashing white, tears falling down their face, and they reached out with one hand towards where Jamil and Camia lay on the ground. “Fish,” they sobbed, “help me!”

In an instant, she was by their side, powerful wings breaking through the whirling wind, and they wrapped their arms around her as she slowly lowered them to the ground, the wind dying away. The white light in Leon’s eyes faded out, leaving behind their dark irises Camia and Jamil were used to, and tears as they cried, holding onto Fish tightly. She rested her head on their shoulder, trilling comforts into their ears.

Once the wind was completely gone, Jamil and Camia got up from the sand, running over to Leon.

Jamil got to them first, and Camia watched as he went to reach out to them but hesitated, his hand staying by his side. “Are you alright?”

Leon gasped, pulling away from Fish. “You—oh no.” They looked terrified, and before the next words were even out of their mouth, Camia knew why. “Did I hurt you? I—I didn’t mean to, fuck, I—”

“We’re okay, Lee,” Camia said, trying to keep her voice calm, though she was still shaken by the feeling of having her breath taken away, and her skin stung. But… she remembered, too well, the fear that ran through their veins. She slowly took their hand in hers, and they flinched, but didn’t pull away. “You didn’t hurt us.”

Jamil took their other hand, running his thumb over the back of it. “What was that?”

Leon hesitated. When Fish gently nudged their head, they sighed, voice shaking. “A really… really bad memory.”

“A memory?” Camia glanced at Jamil, who looked just as concerned as she felt.

They nodded, pulling their hands back to wrap their arms around themself. “From, um, before. You know…” their eyebrows furrowed together. “In Gekko.”

“What… what happened, Leon?”

Shaking their head, they curled up even tighter. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

“But—”

“I don’t want to talk about it!” As the words left them, Leon seemed shocked by their own volume, and buried their head in their arms, hair blanketing their shoulders. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”

Camia frowned, gently wrapping her arms around them in a loose hug, and Jamil joined her on their other side. “You don’t need to apologize. You don’t have to tell us anything if you don’t want to. We just want to help you.”

“Why,” they whispered, “why do you want to help me when all I can do is—is hurt?”

“That’s not true,” she said, a bit more forcefully than she meant, but it worked in getting their attention. “We want to help you because we care about you, Lee. And your magic, it doesn’t make you a bad person for having it.”

“But I can’t control it. And the next time I can’t control it, what if I—” they shuddered. “What if I kill you? Either of you, I—I don’t want to do that.” Before Camia or Jamil could say anything against that, Leon muttered something under their breath that Camia hoped she had misheard.

“What did you say?” Jamil asked, and they all pulled back enough for Leon to lift their head up, cheeks soaked. They were quiet for a long time, but the other two waited. Leon rubbed at their eyes, wiping away tears, staring out at nothing with an empty look on their face.

“I said… You should just kill me.”

Jamil took in a sharp breath. “Leon—!”

“Or leave me out here, maybe, maybe I could survive on my own again or maybe I’d just die, but who cares, it’d be better for everyone that way—”

“No.” Camia took Leon by their shoulders, forcing them to turn towards her. “No, we’re not going to do either of those things. And besides… I know that’s not really what you want anyway.”

Leon shook their head, trying to break away from her, but she held on tightly to them. “You don’t know that. I want—I want to not hurt you, I want you both to stay safe and happy and that doesn’t include me, it just can’t—”

“It does,” Jamil said, his arms wrapping around their middle as he pulled them against his chest, his voice breaking. “It does include you, Lee.”

A choked sob escaped them, but they still argued. “Even if I—if I do stay, what about my magic, what if this happens again?”

Camia cupped their face in her hands, feeling like she was looking at herself from half her life ago. “We’re going to help you. We’ll figure out some way to handle it, but we’ll do it together. Okay?” She wiped away a tear as it fell from their eyes. “Leon, I love you. I’ll never kill you or leave you behind—you are my friend, my family, and as much as you want us happy and safe, that’s what I want for you.”

Leon whined, even more tears starting to flow again, but before they could speak, Jamil did, his voice muffled by their hair. “I love you too, Leon, I—I know I can’t help much with magic, with finding a solution, but I’m never going to leave you. These past few years—” He cut himself off, and Camia knew he was crying, his shoulders shaking.

“These past few years,” she continued, “we have loved you and getting to know you, and neither of us can imagine our lives without you anymore. If you truly, honestly, want to leave, we won’t… won’t stop you. But we don’t want you to go anywhere if we can’t come with you.” She tucked a strand of their hair behind their ear, watching their lip wobble. “What do you want, Lee?”

“…You.” They paused, struggling to catch their breath, one hand resting over Jamil’s arms, the other reaching out to Camia. She took it, squeezing it gently. “I want to stay with you. I don’t—” their voice broke, “—don’t want to be alone again.”

“Okay,” she whispered, shifting close enough to let them lay their head against her shoulder, her arms wrapping around them and hands resting on Jamil. “Okay.”

The three of them sat, holding onto each other, Leon’s quiet sobs and Fish’s gentle trilling the only noises they could hear in the desert night. The sky had just started to lighten by the time Leon calmed down, though they didn’t move away from the other two, holding onto them tightly. Clearing their throat, Leon bit their bottom lip sheepishly.

“…I ruined the tent, didn’t I?”

Camia laughed through her nose. “It’s certainly seen better days.” Before Leon could apologize, she continued. “But if we leave at dawn, we’ll make it to the Bazaar by mid-afternoon, and we can always get a new one there.”

“Or… maybe, stay somewhere with a bed?”

Jamil hummed, pressing a kiss to Leon’s shoulder. “I think that can be arranged.”

A small smile tugged at their lips, and they felt around for Jamil and Camia’s hands to hold in theirs again. “I… I love you. Both of you. Thank you.”

Camia rested her forehead against theirs as Jamil kissed the back of their hand, and the three of them slowly laid down in the sand, their blankets and bed rolls long forgotten. Camia knew they would regret it in a few hours, but she couldn’t bring herself to mention it, as Leon started to drift back to sleep, their eyes red and puffy, but a smile still on their face. Jamil was just as tired, his arms still around Leon’s waist, and he kept them close to him as his eyes closed.

Fish cooed from next to Camia, and she turned slightly to look at the bird. Her red eyes had never looked more kind, more gentle, and Camia swore she was even smiling.

I’ll keep watch. Sleep, please.

Nodding, Camia turned back, resting her head against Leon’s, and as she faded into sleep, heard Fish’s voice in her head one more time.

After their night in the inn at Hinode, when Jamil woke up, Leon was buried under most of the blankets, one hand still holding onto Jamil’s arm, and sitting up slowly, he blinked when he noticed Camia wasn’t in bed with them. Before he could begin to worry, she entered their room, letting out a surprised “oh” when she saw him up.

“Is everything alright?” he asked, noticing how tired her eyes looked.

“It snowed last night,” Camia said, closing the door behind her, covering her mouth with her hand as she yawned. “The innkeepers said the ferry to take us south is going to be a bit delayed, because there’s ice at Sólsetur, but it should be around by the evening.”

Jamil hummed, stretching his arms over his head. “That’s fine, I guess. Nothing we can do about it, but—”

“It snowed?” Leon spoke, suddenly wide awake, messy bedhead poking out from underneath the blankets. “What do you mean?”

Jamil exchanged a glance with Camia. “Well, you remember how cold it was yesterday? And the innkeeper told us to bundle up when we went to bed since there was going to be a drop during the night?”

“Yeah?”

“Well, it’s rare this time of year, but it seems like it snowed.”

“No, I mean—” Leon paused, their cheeks turning pink from embarrassment. “What is… snow?”

“Oh. I guess you wouldn’t know, being out in the desert for so long. It never snowed in Prakra either.” Jamil looked out the window, frost covering the glass. “You know, it’s probably easier if we just show you.”

“Show me?”

“Yeah, come on!” Jamil pulled them out of their cocoon of blankets. “Get dressed, lots of layers.”

Leon let Jamil and Camia help them dress, their face scrunched in confusion the entire time, and held onto their hands as they led Leon outside the inn. It was still snowing lightly, and the snow was a good few inches deep, from what Jamil could tell. The strait wasn’t frozen, at least on this side of it, but it still looked beautiful. At the sound of their feet crunching snow, Leon’s eyes went wide, snowflakes already starting to gather in their hair.

“What is that?”

“This,” Jamil said, leaning down, “is snow.” He turned Leon’s palm up and placed some snow in their hand.

They flinched but let out a nervous giggle. “It’s wet. And so cold.”

“Well, it is water—frozen water, actually—”

“Jamil.” Camia cut him off, grinning at him. “We can explain the science later, if you want,” she said to Leon, who had started playing with the snow in his hand.

“What do you do with it?”

“Hm, well, you can’t do much with it in a traditional sense, but you can play in the snow. Make snowbirds, snowball fights, or just run around.”

Leon paused, shaking the rest of the snow off their hand. “It’s safe?”

“I mean, provided you don’t stay out too long or fall asleep in it, yes.”

As they spoke, Jamil continued leading Leon behind the inn, where there was an open field covered in snow. Letting go of their hands, he took a few steps out. “Come on, Lee. You can run around here.”

“Yeah?” A grin spread across Leon’s face, and they took a tentative step forward, judging the height of the snow with their shoes. They took another step, and then another, and then they were sprinting across the field, past Jamil, until suddenly they tripped and fell, face first, into a bank of snow.

“Leon!” Jamil ran over to them, but before he had time to be concerned, they rolled over onto their back, laughing louder than he had ever heard. As he approached them, he looked them over just to make sure they weren’t hurt, but his eyes caught on their face. Cheeks pink now from the cold, they had snowflakes on their dark eyelashes, and a wider smile than he would have thought possible. He laughed along with them, reaching down to help them up. “Are you alright?”

“It’s so cold!” They cried, still laughing. “I love it!”

Camia joined them, smiling at them both. “Wait, Lee, lie back down.”

They did as she said, practically vibrating with excitement. She instructed them to move their arms and legs, and once she was satisfied, they stopped.

“Now you’ve made a snowbird.”

“I have?”

“Mhm.” Camia led their hand along the outside of the shape they made. “It’s like the shape birds leave behind when they land in the snow, hence, snowbirds.”

Leon’s eyes lit up. “Fish!”

His familiar, Fiasharya, came soaring towards them, seemingly out of nowhere to Jamil’s eyes, and landed in the snow next to Leon, leaving behind similar prints with her wings. Leon felt them with his hand and laughed, petting her head.

“Look, we match!”

She trilled, nuzzling their head with hers, red feathers contrasting vibrantly against the snow and Leon’s black hair. Jamil still wasn’t completely comfortable around her, just due to the nature of her being huge with dangerous talons, but she seemed to like him well enough, blinking her red eyes in his direction.

Leon turned back towards the other two, still smiling. “What’s next?”

“Well,” Jamil said, “now all you need to do is have a snowball fight.”

“What do I get if I win? Is it like, for money or…” their eyes glinted, “to the death?”

Camia laughed while Jamil just shook his head. “No, no, neither of those things. It’s just for fun! I guess the loser gets soaked from all the snowballs hitting them, but that’s it.”

“Oh.” Leon almost sounded disappointed, but before they could say anything else, Camia threw a snowball at them, hitting their chest. “Ow!” They flinched, but they were laughing as the snow sprayed over them. “Was that a snowball?”

Camia barely had enough time to get out a “yes” before Jamil was throwing a snowball at her.

“Cami, you should at least teach them how to make one before throwing it at them!”

She just laughed, standing up and running further down the field to start building her own arsenal of snowballs. Jamil packed snow into Leon’s hands, and in no time at all they had made a little pile of snowballs and were getting ready to throw them around.

“Are you both ready?” Camia called from her spot across the field, and when Jamil and Leon nodded, she started a countdown. “3… 2… 1… Go!”

At “go” Jamil threw a snowball towards her, but he was immediately hit by Leon, who was already cackling with glee. “Lee!” He gasped, indignantly. “I thought we would work together!”

They grinned, gathering some of their snowballs in their arms and running away from him. “You didn’t say anything about that!”

Jamil groaned, unable to hide his own smile as he started firing back at them, dodging Camia’s throws at the same time. The three of them fought for what felt like hours; even Fish eventually joined in, on Leon’s side, of course. Jamil complained about it, but he didn’t really mind, at least until she dropped a giant snowball onto his head.

Jamil hadn’t spent so much time in the snow since he was much younger, and Camia was the same, but neither of them wanted to quit watching Leon as they looked truly happy for the first time since meeting them. When they all finally collapsed, laughing breathlessly, they decided Leon was the winner, and he didn’t stop smiling even as they went inside, soaked from their fight.

The innkeepers just laughed at the sight of the three of them when they came inside, ushering them back up to their room to change into dry clothes and sit in front of a small fire. Jamil helped Leon squeeze out their hair and wrapped one of the blankets from the bed over them as they warmed themselves.

Camia was already warm, having changed from her wet clothes, and she sat a bit away from the fire, watching the two of them with drooping eyes. Leon was already half-asleep against Jamil’s shoulder, holding onto his hand, and Jamil nodded over at Camia.

“We have a few more hours before the ferry comes. Why don’t you take a nap? I’ll make sure we get up in time.”

She looked like she wanted to argue, but when he raised an eyebrow at her she laughed through her nose and nodded, getting up to lie back down on the bed. Lying down so she was still facing them, her eyes slid shut almost immediately, and Jamil could tell from her breathing that she was asleep. He watched the crackling fire in front of them for a moment before Leon stirred, apparently not sleeping yet.

“Thank you,” they whispered, and he almost missed it, but they squeezed his hand at the same time. “I… I liked the snow.”

“Good!” Jamil squeezed their hand back, leaning his head against theirs. “I’m glad you liked it. There’s only going to be more where we’re going. You might even get tired of it.”

“Hm.” They shrugged, nestling closer to him. “I hope not.”

When she died, he had been in Nopal with Asra, watching them as Alec had asked him to do. At first, Asra had been angry that he followed them to Nopal, angrier still with Alec over whatever argument they had finished when he left, but they quickly settled into having him accompany them, and their familiar, Faust.

He had felt when she passed, felt it ripple through his very soul as her last cry echoed across the desert. Though he never normally entered Asra’s hut, much preferring to sleep outside, he had all but tore Asra from the bed, racing them both back to Vesuvia. He had even entered the city, riding in the boat as the magician rowed to that horrid, stinking island, where they both found nothing but Alec’s bones to cradle.

Ravah didn’t cry. He couldn’t, for one, not in the way humans could. But his heart could break, and it did when she was gone.

And now, she was back, and his heart ached.

He paced the limits of the city, furious with himself for not being able to just go in and see her, just do it—it’s not like it would be hard to find her, he could trace her across the world. It was just the city. And he hated cities.

The fur on the back of his neck stood up as he heard a familiar flapping, and he bit back a growl as Fiasharya landed on the ground next to him.

You need to go see her.

I know.

Fish shook her head, red eyes staring unblinkingly at him. Something is wrong. My baby is upset, the rest of them are upset, and not even Missy knows what’s wrong. She doesn’t know any of them.

Not even Missy knew what was wrong? What do you mean?

Alec doesn’t remember any of them.

***

Ravah waited until the moon was at its highest before finally making his way through the city. Selfishly, he was glad that so many had fled the plague, if the city was at its busiest, he never would be able to make it to Alec on his own.

It was harder to find her than he expected, what with the overwhelming smell of death and cloud of ash that settled over the city, but eventually he made it, just as the sky started to shift from inky blackness to blue.

He stepped to the front door, and before he could attempt to figure out how to open it, it swung open, and the young magician, Asra, was standing in the doorway.

“Fish said you would be coming.” They stood aside, and he walked in, trying to fight back the anxiety he felt at being inside, feeling trapped. It helped that the shop smelled like Alec, as well as the rest of the band, at least.

The shop was quiet, everyone else most likely asleep, and Asra led Ravah up some stairs, down a short hallway, to what he could only assume was Alec’s room by the smell.

“She’s barely woken up since I brought her back,” Asra whispered as they opened her door, and Ravah thought they said it more to themself than him. He didn’t even know what that meant, they had brought her back. Back from where?

Shaking his head, he stepped past them. It didn’t matter right now. What mattered was that Alec was alive, and she was sleeping on her bed as if nothing had happened. As if she hadn’t been dead for a year, the longest, hardest year of his life.

He curled up next to her on the bed almost immediately, lying his head on her chest to feel her breathe under him. Asra watched him from the doorway, and as Ravah lay in silence, he noticed the slow, soft beating of her heart, unfamiliar to him. It was closer to the magician’s heart, and that didn’t make any sense to him.

Closing his eyes, he decided that now was not the time to worry about it, he could worry again in the morning. For now, all he wanted was to sleep by her side again.

And he did, slipping into sleep more easily than he had in a very long time.

He hadn’t even meant to walk into her dreams, it just happened.

The darkness around him faded into afternoon sun, and his paws landed on soft sand, a light whistle of wind ruffling his fur as he walked. In the distance, a small house sat in the middle of seemingly nowhere, plainly colored, but it was familiar.

It was Alec’s parent’s house, and this was her magical gate.

He had often visited her gate with her when she was younger, and they used to train with her magic to make sure it wouldn’t affect anyone else. As much as he insisted it would be more beneficial to her if she practiced on real people, she refused.

Shaking his head, he kept padding towards the house. That wasn’t a frustration to focus on now; it wasn’t like that magic could have kept her from dying.

A song floated on the wind towards him, and he saw that he wasn’t completely alone in Alec’s gate, there was a child sitting on the steps of the house, their head bowed, long dark hair curled by their feet. They tapped their feet to the beat of the song they sang, anklets peeking out from the bottom of their skirt.

As he approached the house, the child stirred, and stared at him curiously. He would know those blue eyes anywhere, and as he got closer, could see the few marks inked on her face that only confirmed what he had thought—it was Alec, though much younger than he had ever known her.

She smiled, and looked over her shoulder, calling inside the house. “Apa, Ama! Come see what’s outside!”

When no one answered, her smile faltered, and she rose to her feet, disappearing inside. Ravah followed, though the inside of the house was nothing but a long hallway with hundreds of doors. He had been here before too, dozens of times, but it used to be louder. It also used to be brighter. Doors that would have music streaming from them, birds singing, sunlight peeking through the cracks, were now still and dark.

“Ama? Apa?”

He caught up to Alec, almost the same height as her as she walked along the hallway. She looked around them, voice pitching with concern, taking in the silence of the doors.

“Where are you?”

Did she not remember?

They’re gone, cub.

“No, they were just here!” She reached out and grabbed the handle of one of the doors, twisting it in her grip, but the door didn’t open. “They can’t be gone, I—”

She took off running down the hallway, trying to open doors along her way, her bare feet leaving footprints that glowed faintly on the ground behind her. Her anklets chimed as she ran, discordant with her worried cries. Ravah had no choice but to follow, watching tears drip from her eyes and land on the ground, illuminating where they fell.

They came to a stop in front of a door Ravah recognized only now as the shop’s door. Alec reached out and tried to open it, but it wouldn’t budge.

“Why won’t they open?” She turned to face him, round cheeks shining. “They’re s-supposed to, aren’t they?”

Yes.

“Why can’t I get in?”

I don’t know.

Her face scrunched up, and she fell to the ground with a sob, leaning against the door and burying her face in her knees as her shoulders shook. Ravah padded over to her, resting his head against her legs. After a moment, her voice, small and tired, spoke again.

“What’s wrong with me?”

What do you mean?

“I don’t… I don’t feel right. My head hurts all the time, and I hear voices, voices I feel like I should know but I don’t… I can’t remember anything.” She peeked out through her hair at him, fresh tears falling. “I’m supposed to know you, too, right? But I don’t.”

He nudged under her arm until she let his head poke through, and he licked her nose. She giggled, even if it was quiet, it was a better sound than her sobs had been.

It’s okay. I know you.

She sighed, wrapping her arms around his neck. “Your fur is very soft.”

He huffed. Thank you.

“Can you stay here…” her small hands gripped his fur a little tighter, “just for a little bit?”

Of course.

***

“Ravah?”

Camia’s voice stirred him from sleep, ear twitching. He slowly opened his eyes, meeting hers from where she sat on the side of the bed, the sun softly streaming from behind the curtains. Alec was curled around him, her face buried into his fur, and he could feel a wetness on his back from where her tears had landed.

“Ravah, how is she?”

Scared. She’s confused. And in a lot of pain.

“Pain?” Camia looked stricken, and she reached out to put her hand on Alec’s shoulder. “Because of us?”

He hesitated. It wasn’t quite that simple, but he didn’t know how to explain it. Before he could try, Camia continued.

“I knew it.” She sounded so tired, so resigned, and she stared at Alec with tears in her eyes. “Whatever’s wrong, we’re not helping. She sleeps so much, and when she’s awake, she’s not really here. She’s somewhere else. Asra brings her back, sometimes, but then if I try—”

Alec shifted in her sleep and wrapped herself tighter around Ravah. Camia pulled her hand back, holding it to her chest.

“I don’t know what to do.”

You need to have patience.

A voice that wasn’t Ravah’s spoke in both his and Camia’s minds, and he instinctively stiffened as the magic of something that had lived lifetimes over him entered the room.

Camia’s familiar, a fire salamander named Missy, made their way to the bed, and Camia leaned down to pick them up, setting them on the bed next to Alec.

The salamander looked at Ravah, blinking their round eyes slowly. You decided to come see her after all.

He glanced away, his tail thumping in irritation. Of course. I’m the only one who really understands her.

A sound like a laugh chimed in his mind, and Missy climbed up Alec’s side to sit on her head, closing their eyes for a moment.

“Missy?” Camia’s voice was quiet, and she reached out to her familiar.

Patience. She will not recover overnight.

“I know that, but it’s been weeks. She’s only woken up a handful of times since…”

Missy glowed a cool blue, and magic washed over Alec, relaxing her. She let go of her grip in Ravah’s fur, and he was able to wriggle upright, sitting next to her instead. Though there were still trails of tears on her face, she looked more peaceful, for the moment.

Would you leave us, Marie?

Camia sighed, shoulders slumping, but she nodded. Pressing a quick kiss to Alec’s forehead, she stood, and headed to the door. “Please let me know if she wakes up.”

Missy hummed in agreement, and then the door was shut. They turned their eyes back onto Ravah, feeling immensely old and infinitely more knowledgeable than he was. It pissed him off, but he respected them too much to say anything.

You visited her gate in her dreams, they said, matter-of-factly.

He still nodded. It was… different. But it was still her gate.

That’s good.

Good? How? She couldn’t go through any of her doors.

Could she still do magic?

He thought of how her tears had glowed down the dark hallway. Something. I wasn’t there long enough.

Something is better than nothing. The fact that she can reach her gate at all is a good thing. Missy crawled down Alec’s arm, looking up at her sleeping face. She couldn’t even do that when she first woke up.

What… He trailed off, studying Alec’s face. What happened to her?

Something dangerous. Something that could have gone much worse, if the young Asra were not so lucky.

Asra?

Missy turned to face the door. Come here, child.

Faust, Asra’s familiar, crept under the door, though she kept her distance from Ravah, curling up on the pillow by Alec’s head.

Tell Ravah what you told me.

The snake hesitated, turning her head between Missy and Ravah before nodding. She explained that there had been a ritual of some kind for the now-late Count Lucio, but it had gone wrong because Asra had tried to sabotage it. And he had sabotaged it for Alec, and he had been successful, but only just in bringing her back to life. The details of the ritual, and the price Asra had paid, and what had gone wrong… she didn’t know. She explained that Asra didn’t even remember most of the ritual, or what he had done. The memories were gone.

You felt her heart, I’m sure, Missy said, when Faust had finished.

Her heart… it’s different.

They nodded. That’s Asra’s heart. Whether this was the full price or not, I do not know, but he gave half his heart to bring her back.

Ravah couldn’t even try to wrap his head around that, so he didn’t. What does that mean?

It means she responds better to him than the rest of her family, or even you. Those two are intertwined now. It also means she will recover, she will get better as long as he is here, for now, but the rest of us…

He looked at Alec’s face, still sleeping, and didn’t need Missy to finish to know what they meant. The rest of them were not helping.

With that knowledge in his mind, Ravah stayed at the shop, studying her and the rest of the band.

Over the next handful of months, she slowly started to wake up more often, and stay awake longer, but she wouldn’t interact with the rest of them. Or couldn’t, Ravah wasn’t sure.

The shop thrummed with tension most days, and it felt like there was not an afternoon that there wasn’t some sort of argument between the other humans about what they should do. Ravah did not pay attention to most of the arguments. He didn’t care what they decided on. He only cared about Alec recovering.

And, bit by bit, it seemed like she was. But she would step back just as suddenly, with almost no warning.

One night, he found himself in her dreams again.

He saw the house again, and Alec sitting on the steps again, but she was different this time.

She looked more like she had when he met her, adolescent anger coursing through her veins, and she groaned as he approached, falling back to lie flat out on the ground. When he leaned over her, she stuck her tongue out at him.

“You were here last time, too.”

You remember?

“I remember you lecturing me.” She rolled onto her stomach and traced a circle in the sand as her legs kicked behind her. “Something about having a strong mind to—” her voice deepened to mimic his, “—break even the strongest of hearts. But I don’t have a strong mind, I just have an average, scattered mind, and—"

She continued to complain, but Ravah stopped listening. He thought back. She wasn’t referring to the last time he saw her, no, it seemed more like she was remembering one of the times they had trained. Which was an improvement, of sorts. It was a memory.

He interrupted her. You do have a strong mind.

“Doesn’t feel like it.” Alec grumbled, sitting up. She tossed her short ponytail over her shoulder. “You said it’s important for me to know what’s in my mind when I do my magic, or I could end up hurting someone. But I don’t know what’s in my mind. I barely feel like I’m in my own mind anymore.” She pulled her knees to her chest. “My own thoughts feel like they’re someone else’s.”

What kind of thoughts?

“Like…” she sighed, holding her hand out, and they both watched as she pulled water from the air, gathering and spinning it in her palm. “Like I’m not supposed to be here. I feel wrong. And there’s… I mean, even my heart doesn’t feel entirely like mine. But that doesn’t make sense.”

Ravah thought back to Asra, and what Missy had told him. You are supposed to be here. You were brought here for a reason, and you are not wrong for it.

Alec frowned and shook the water off her hand. “How do you know?” She stood, and he felt the air around them shift, her eyes glowing a brighter blue than they had been a moment ago. “How do you know anything about me?”

He knew what she was doing—he had watched her throw enough tantrums when they were both much younger to recognize the frustration in her voice as wind picked up around them, whipping her skirt around her legs. It always had the same root; she felt lost, angry, but more than that, she was scared. She wouldn’t admit to it then, when the strength of her power washed over her, and she wouldn’t admit to it now, but she was terrified. And she only knew how to lash out—she didn’t know how to ask for help.

Back then, he would get frustrated too, for as mature as he liked to act, and for how much Fiasharya teased him about it, he wasn’t very old at all. He had met Alec when he was still a cub, still raw with fury over the way he had been treated from birth, and he knew he didn’t teach her the way she needed him to. But it was different now—he was different now.

Even if this version of Alec was the same, he could help her now, and she needed him.

As the wind lifted her from the ground, her hair coming loose and flowing around her, he sat and looked up at her, humming a song, a lullaby, that she had taught him a long time ago. She had taught it to him a few years after they met, when she startled awake from a nightmare filled with fire and smoke. He didn’t need to see all of her dreams now to know she still had the same nightmares, only much more vivid, if the way she often woke up trying to throw her sheets off in tears meant anything.

As he hummed, her eyes flashed, the intensity of the blue glow hiding even her pupils. “S-stop it.” He didn’t, and saw her face crumble, tears slipping down her cheeks, though the wind continued to howl. “Stop it!”

Reaching up, he took her hand in his mouth gently, pulling her back down, and she let him. It wasn’t until she sat on the ground, slumped over herself, that the wind died, and he laid down with his head in her lap.

A tear landed on his nose, and he sniffed. As she spoke, Alec’s thumb stroked the side of his face. “How did you know that song?”

You taught it to me.

“I don’t…” She sighed. “I don’t even remember how I know that song.”

He glanced up at her. She looked so lost, so small, not unlike the younger version of herself he had seen the last time in her dreams. You said your parents taught it to you. That they would sing you to sleep with it when you were very small. It helped keep away the bad dreams.

“What were they like?”

He, truthfully, didn’t know. Alec had never spoken much about them, it brought her too much pain. But there was one thing he did know about them, that he could see from the way she had cared for herself and her family, the way she had cared for everyone she met. They loved you very much.

***

This time, when he woke up, it was Leon sitting on the bed next to Alec, running their fingers through her hair. They were humming the same song he had in her dreams, and he knew that she had taught it to them as well. When he shifted in his spot, they stopped, but kept twirling her hair between their fingers. “Was it a bad dream?”

He sat up, studying Alec’s face. She seemed more relaxed, sleeping without a furrow in her brows, though she was still sleeping.

Not anymore.

“Good.” They paused, hand stilling. “She still doesn’t remember us?”

No.

“Hm.” Leon hid their emotions well, when they wanted to, but they couldn’t hide the disappointment they felt. “I thought you might be helping her somehow.”

I am. But there’s something in the way.

“Do you… Do you think we should leave?”

Leave?

They sighed, propping their chin in their hand. “She’s not… not getting better, is she. And every time she wakes up, she can’t stand to be around us. Just Asra. And I…” Frowning, they shook their head. “I just don’t think there’s anything more we can do for her right now.”

Ravah didn’t answer them, but they took that as answer enough.

“Jamil wouldn’t hear of it, though,” they grumbled. “He won’t hear of anything, these days. He’s convinced that we need to be here. And it’s not… not like I don’t want to be here. I don’t want to leave her either, but he, he won’t listen.”

Ravah huffed. He will need to, sooner or later.

“Yeah.” Leon stood. ‘Let’s hope sooner over later, huh?”

Soon wasn’t soon enough for Ravah, as every day afterwards seemed to be the same conversation. Camia thought they should leave, and now Leon was starting to think that way as well, but Jamil refused to even entertain the idea. Even as Camia tried to explain, he wouldn’t listen.

She held her head in her hands, sitting on the couch in the back room. “You’re not listening to me, Jamil—”

Jamil was pacing—he was always pacing now, Ravah noticed. “Because you’re not making any sense, I—"

Ravah got up from his spot at the bottom of the shop stairs, padding back up to sit in Alec’s room. She was sitting up, more awake than she had been, but stayed looking out the window as he approached, and didn’t even stir as he placed his head in her lap. He huffed, and her hand fit between his ears, stroking him slowly. It was more on instinct than anything, as she still wasn’t looking at him, but that was enough.

A moment later, Asra entered, eyes red. He walked over to the bed, carrying a bowl of something smelling strongly enough that it caught Alec’s attention, and she pulled her gaze from the window to look at Asra.

He handed her the bowl, a small smile on his face. “Brought you some food; I helped Jamil make it this morning.”

Whatever it was, it smelled heavily of spices and made Ravah put his paw over his nose, glaring at Asra.

The magician laughed lightly, petting Ravah’s back once. “Sorry. It’s a bit strong.”

Alec ate in silence, but she seemed to listen to Asra as he spoke, eyes not as distant as they had been before. A pang of jealousy shot through Ravah, annoyed that she responded to Asra but not to him, but then he reminded himself that it was the furthest thing from intentional and sighed to himself.

Her moment of clarity was not long lived, as the moment Asra stood and left the room, she was distant again. Ravah didn’t understand it, but he knew she didn’t either.

A few months later, right before they all left, he visited her in her dreams again.

She was standing outside of her parent’s house still, but she was older now, older than she had been when they first met. When he made it to her side, she put her hand between his ears, petting him gently.

“Ravah.”

He was surprised to hear her say his name and turned his head up at her. Yes?

She wasn’t looking at him, but out on the horizon, eyes distant. “Will you look after them for me?”

Do you remember them?

“No.” She paused, a tear slipping down her cheek. “I don’t—I’m not sure. Something’s there, but I just, I can’t see it yet. But they’re in pain, aren’t they? Because of me?”

Again, he hesitated. It just wasn’t that simple.

“I know Asra. I may not remember him, but I know him. And I know you, even if when I wake up, I won’t remember you either. But, whenever I try to think about them, there’s just—it’s like a wall in my mind, and I’m not strong enough to break it down. Not yet.”

Alec’s voice caught in her chest, and she knelt down to bury her face in his fur. “I don’t want them to go. I know enough that they’re supposed to be here. And it’s not—“ He felt tears fall on his back and turned his head to nuzzle hers. “It’s not fair that I won’t even remember telling you this when I wake up. But I’m not getting any better.”

She was silent for a moment, then she asked him again.

“Will you look after them?”

I will.

She sighed, wrapped her arms around his neck. “Thank you.”

***

Jamil, of course, took the longest to convince to leave. But when he finally understood that there was nothing they could do, they left within the week.

Ravah wasn’t even sure what had been the final straw, all he knew was that Alec had an awful relapse, and it had managed to finally strike that chord with Jamil that they all needed to leave, both of them reduced to tears. So, nine months after she had first woken up, Jamil, Camia, and Leon left the shop, Asra, Vesuvia, and Alec.

He followed them into the Catclaw Desert, where they found a hut, smaller than the shop, and made it a home. Though, they still argued.

Now, Jamil argued that they had to do something to help Alec. That they had to find a way to get her memories back, even without her. Camia and Leon didn’t agree. However, after a few months of arguing, it seemed like Jamil had given up.

Ravah was not so easily fooled. He knew just how stubborn Jamil could be. The rest of them thought Alec had gotten her stubbornness from Leon. However, theirs was a selfish stubbornness. Jamil’s—and Alec’s—was almost self-righteous, which was infinitely more infuriating to him.

So, when Fish woke him one morning, feathers ruffled and crying that Jamil had left, Ravah was not surprised.

He had promised Alec he would look after them, and that was what he planned on doing. He walked past Camia, who looked between two directions, sighed, and stepped back into the hut, her head in her hands. There were three sets of footprints in the sand. Hers, which went no more than a few feet from the door. Jamil’s, which headed north, and Ravah could still smell him on the wind, not too far for him to keep up behind. And the last set of prints, presumably Leon’s, went the opposite direction, and abruptly stopped, the smell of their magic radiating from them.

Ravah went north.

As he made his way further from the hut, reaching the last dune that would hide it from his sight, he looked back. He watched clouds start to gather in the distance, the opposite direction from where he was heading, sand whirling in a funnel. In the middle of the funnel, he saw a familiar shape, long hair whipping around with the wind, air crackling with magic, and heard a howl echo over the desert, sharp with pain and anger, so much so that he felt it in his bones.

Ravah faced forward again, and over the top of the next dune, saw the shape of Jamil heading away, oblivious to the hurt he was leaving behind. Or uncaring, and Ravah wasn’t sure which was worse.

Nevertheless, he still followed after him. Leon, Camia, and Fiasharya could all handle themselves. They didn’t need him. Jamil did. As much as Ravah had never particularly cared for him, Alec did—maybe more so than she cared for anyone else, even if the difference between her care for him and the others was slight.