#rhemi

In an instant he hauled all movements, frozen with confusion. It felt like it came from nowhere, was he losing his mind? But then, “Just…Breathe.” It repeated. The voice sounded rather sweet and soft as it spoke, and Muriel felt a bit more at ease. It then became evident that he was no longer spinning endlessly in a whirlpool, but rather flowing in a calm dark. 

“Breathe, Muriel.” The voice repeated one last time. 

Finally, out of options, Muriel opened his mouth letting the tar enter his lungs. He choked on the black liquid at first, unable to stop himself from coughing. But as soon as he fully inhaled, he realized that he wasn’t drowning. Despite the escaping air bubbles and all of his other instincts, he stops struggling and keeps still for a moment. He stayed there floating calmly, it was eerily calm. He waited for a moment to hear the sweet voice, but the voice disappeared as quickly as it appeared.

“Asra?” Muriel then called out, but what came out was muffled mumbles, air bubbles, muted grunts and gurgles. “….Rhemi?” The same. There wasn’t any way anyone could hear such a faint noise.

Despite it, he tried to call out Rhemi’s name on the top of his lungs. But yet again, his voice was muffled like it would be when you’d screaming underwater. Only the bubbles that came out of his mouth and nose seemed to have a mind of their own as they dispersed into different directions, (not very helpful when trying to find the surface). 

He gave it a large sigh as he observed his surroundings and gazed around into the emptiness unsure what to do next. Finally, he felt feet land on what he could only assume was the bottom. “How could this thing have a bottom if it didn’t have a top?” He thought to himself. With his feet touching what he thought was the bottom, he could feel movement under his feet move. It was as if he was inside the belly of a beast that was dragging its undercarriage on the ground like a fat dragon.

Muriel then looked around again about to call out again in this liquid prison for his companions. But before could open his mouth, he heard another familiar voice. This time it was small and very squeaky and high pitched, nothing like the one before telling him to breathe. But who else would be in here? Better yet, how would they have gotten in here? Then at last his eyes found the little creature as it scurried in front of his feet. “Rem-Roo!! Rem-Roo! Rem-Roo!” The ferret muttered as he pitter-pattered away. It was strange, he didn’t seem to be underwater like Muriel was. It was Ezavior… Rhemi’s late familiar she had as a child. What was he doing here? This darkness wasn’t a memory… was it? What even was this place? Was it even a place?

“Too many questions… not enough answers…” he thought. 

Unsure what to do, the mountain man blinked a few times before he finally followed the creature’s trail.

It was still very dark all around him, but the little creature seemed to emit a slight warm glow. Muriel dragged his long legs through a slight current to keep up with the ferret and had to use his large arms in a kind of swimming motion to keep up with the creature. At one point, Muriel thought he'd lost the creature. But then he noticed the ferret stopped and looked back towards him. Wait… Could he see him? Wasn’t this a memory? But if he saw him, how could it be a memory? Did Ezavior… want Muriel to follow him? Once the hermit caught up, the creature started to scurry with his little legs again. Well, whatever this was, Muriel wasn’t going to let this get away.

————Asra––——— 

The magician floundered ceaselessly in the tar, feeling like he was just going round and round in tight circles, doomed to drown in the dark by himself. He could feel his chest pound harder and harder as panic set in and felt himself about to wake up. But then amidst the floundering, it finally occurred to him— None of this was real. Not really anyways. His body was back home in the shop asleep next to Muriel on the floor. He was safe. When he and Muriel were running around the mansion trying to catch the little Rhemi, not once did they get fatigued or out of breath.

 Of course… This wasn’t the real world! This was basically a glorified fever dream. Finally he stopped struggling and drew in a deep breath then sighed it out. He watched as the bubbles left his mouth and they aimlessly flouted about. He was right! There was no way he could drown. The current finally stopped spinning him about as he took in another deep breath and everything became somewhat calm.

A faint voice radiated in his ears rather dully and he scanned all around him to see if Muriel or the ghost was there. But he was all alone. The voice spoke out again, and he realized it was his own voice. “Rhemi…” His voice says again.

He attempted to say, ‘hello’, but he found his voice muffled by the tar.

He knew just the spell to remedy this, but as soon as he started it, he heard Rhemi’s voice. 

She was talking to someone, but he knew this conversation. This was a conversion that had played in his own mind for almost five years. Finally a dim light appears and with it the image of the shop comes into view. Asra felt his feet drop to the floor of the endless tar pit as he helplessly entered into this memory. His eyes widened, realizing which moment in time he was. This was Asra’s and Rhemi’s last conversation before she—No…. Not this—please… Why in god’s name did I stumble here??

It was the day when he left Vesuvia. The day he left Rhemi behind. They were arguing. But this was the last time he ever saw his beloved Rhemi— at least the version of Rhemi he so desperately tried to get back.

————— Muriel—————

With each step, Muriel felt like the liquid was becoming harder and harder to move through, but he had to follow the ferret. He couldn’t lose the best lead he had since the little Rhemi with a hole in her chest. It was still so dark, he had to squint to see what was in front of him. For a moment, he thought Ezavior was getting larger, but then he realized he couldn't see the creature, but he could see that he was approaching a door. Finally something in the void! And a familiar one at that! It was the door to the Rowdy Raven. Half expecting to be pushed back like before, he reached his hand to the handle, but instead of it swinging open, he fazed through like an illusion. 

Confused, he took back his hand and stared at the door for a moment before trying it again. But it was no good. He might as well be a ghost himself. His head cocked back as he signed defeated, just making a cloud of air bubbles. Suddenly, he could hear all too familiar voices coming from behind the oak door. He then got an unusual idea, he stuck his head right through the door. The sudden surge of light nearly blinded him, but after a few good blinks his eyes adjusted, and he could see Rhemi. This has to be his Rhemi! He attempted to call out but only water gurgles came out. 

Ecstatic, he clumsily fazed through the door completely and half ran, half swam as fast as he could towards her. Rhemi! The corners of his lips curled up in a relieved smile and his chest started to flutter… but then realized her hair and her outfit. She had her head down on the bar top clutching to a half drank pint of ale and broken glass and liquids was littered around her. She had a black plague doctor’s jacket on, and her hair was shorter than she kept it now, although it wasn’t as short as it was back in the colosseum cell memory. But it was obviously not the one he had thought. She was at least well into her twenties now. This must be a memory too. “Damn…” he thought to himself, feeling defeated. He was getting tired of being only a spectator in this place. 

Strangely. This memory wasn’t like the others he had seen back in the mansion. These memories didn’t have designated doors. It was as if they randomly appeared.

Just before he started to lose hope, he heard rattling chains coming from behind him. He turned around and saw his own face. Taken aback, he watched as his younger self entered the tavern with his tattered old cloak covering his head, his broken chains around his wrists and neck, that dark-sad look in his eyes, and his discomfort around anyone. Ever his silent self, he quietly walked over and yanked the drunk woman off the bar and she started kicking, swearing, and hurling insults. Muriel cringed as he started to remember this memory. This was… well…. It wasn’t a good one… Why couldn't he stumble into a good one for once? Honestly, he never realized how bad these two’s interactions were. It wasn’t like they were much different than his other interactions with people back then.

The memory’s scenery suddenly moved with them as they walked through the city, but it went by in intervals, like she didn’t remember chunks of it. Finally, after persisting and protesting more than half way home, the younger Muriel let Rhemi down to give his shoulder a break where she was kicking him. Although she staggered and stumbled on the uneven cobblestone, she was insistent on walking on her two feet. Her face was red, and she was utterly pissed.  “Coulda made it myself, ya know…” She drunkenly says as she turns towards him to flick him off, but then crashes into a full water barrel. “—OOOOOF!” She tried her best not to double over, but she did run into it pretty hard.

“…’Parently not...” The memory of him grumbled doubtfully as he pinched the bridge of his nose. In other circumstances, this probably would have been funny. But neither of them were in a chucking kinda mood. 

As Muriel watched this memory, he remembered the reason for the encounter. She was asked to leave the tavern for breaking goblets and bottles behind the counter with her magic as a way to show off. When she refused to leave, the bouncers were afraid to deal with a drunk magician. But luckily Muriel wasn’t too far. Asra asked him to watch her when he was gone. He hated doing it, and sometimes didn’t half-assed. But this time he came a little late to the party, and he had to bounce people out of the tavern more than once.

“…. Why’d ja even bother to walk me home?” The drunk Rhemi asks as she leans on the water barrel and rips off her boots to carry them. “...N-...Not your problem…”

Muriel stared judgingly with an eyebrow sharply raised as she started to hand him the pair of boots to him. But he shook his head disapprovingly. He wasn’t gonna fucking carrying them. Her shoulder dropped and she stuck out her bottom lip poutily. “... Fine…Ya didn’t question the answer though.” She said tying her shoe strings together and slinging them over her shoulder.

Muriel gave her a pointed look. He was pretty sure she meant that the other way around. But then he stood there for a moment, unsure whether or not to explain that Asra asked him to make sure she didn’t get into any trouble while he was gone. It may have come across creepy. Finally, he shrugged and vaguely answered,  “Dunno….”

“... Dunno???” She sarcastically replies, terribly imitating his deep bassy voice. “Don’t ya ever fuckin‘ know anything? Fuckin’ swear. A pile of potatoes would know more than your dumb ass…” She mumbled that last part under her breath. 

He shrugs silently again, shooting her an annoyed sideways glance. As soon as their eyes met, he averted her gaze to the ground, then huffed, “… Asra’d want you safe.”

Grief flickered behind her eyes for a moment, “Hmph…. Riiiiiight…”, then she flared her nostrils and rolled her eyes as she lifted the seal and unlocked the door of the shop. “…. Oh yeah, because he cares soooooo much about me… Perhaps that’s why he hasn't…. *hiccup*... -hasn’t bothered to write to me, or contact me, or even come home in over six months!!” She tossed the key carelessly to the ground with a satisfying metal clunk as she staggered her way inside. “...Stupid piece of shit motherfucker.” She muttered under her breath as she underhandedly chucked her boots at the bottom of the staircase.

Muriel shook his head, she always was a handful but tonight she was dialed up to eleven. He watched as she used her magic to instantly light all the candles inside the shop. Finally, he could leave. However, before he could turn away back to his comfort of his hut in the forest, she shouts, “… Rude to keep lingering in doorways!.. don’t make your guest wait!” a bit surprised, he stood there awkwardly then looked around to see if anyone else was around. Not only was he unwilling to step inside, but why would she want him to? And wouldn’t he be the guest? This was her home after all. Plus, he’d never really been inside the shop before. They weren't friends. Hell they were barely acquaintances. “Oooi!!! Blanket-Boy! Get your fat-ass in here! You're letting out all the- *hiccup* –freakin’ heat!” She barked. Well now there was no doubt she was talking to him. Disgruntled, he groaned and dropped his shoulders wishing to just disappear. Begrudgingly, the hermit stepped in and closed the door behind him. 

The drunk Rhemi took a kettle next to the stove and with a flick of her wrist she got it to boil rather instantly and apparently started to make some tea. Blindly she pointed over to the crappiest stool in the room for him to sit on. Hesitantly, he trundled his way over to it and took a load off while she continued to boil the water despite her half stumbling around the place. He remembered how he thought it probably wasn't a good idea that she was messing with fire while she was drunk, yet he never offered to lend her a hand and just stayed silent upon his shabby stool. He could remember how he thought about just quietly slipping out the door more than once. He could have just said, ‘No thanks’, and be on his way, yet he remained. Maybe he knew something wasn’t alright with her. Maybe deep down he was concerned.

But damn, did he forget how awkward this memory was. The only sound that could be heard was the clanking of the ceramic tea cups, kettle billowing, the popping and hissing of the stove, and that damn tick tick ticking of that god awful coo-coo clock that had about an inch of dust on it. It wasn’t like he really wanted to talk anyway, but it just felt so uncomfortable. He also noticed that the shop smelled rather stale. Normally, he could recall the smell of sweet incense when he’d pass by or meet up with Asra in the back alleyway. But now the sweet aroma was replaced with a depressing aura and a faint whiff of old onions mixed with stale pumpkin bread. The place desperately needed a cleaning and airing out, it didn’t exactly have the inviting atmosphere that it does nowadays. Then again, it wasn’t like she had many customers either since she started working with Julian at the palace to find a cure. Maybe she thought there wasn’t any point to it now.

At last, Rhemi handed Muriel a half filled teacup. The hooded mountain man stared at the cup and his nose instinctively wrinkled up. Not only did she hand him the tiniest cup she owned, but it had an ugly green glaze that looked like wadded up cud. Not to mention, it was somehow warped and uneven and teetered on its ill fitting saucer so the tea kept spilling out of the chip that it had on its rim. Muriel grumbled as he stared at the strange cup, even he had better cups than this (which was saying something). Instead of drinking the unknown concoction, he just stared at it suspiciously and even sniffed it. It did have a faint odor of peppermint and chamomile, but it was practically just hot water with shitty old honey that was half congealed swirling around in it. 

Rhemi’s eyes finally fell on him, watching him as he stared at the hot tea with discontentment. Somehow she found his awkwardness amusing for once and she couldn’t help but just snicker to herself as she added more alcohol to her warm brew from a flask. “Pffsh. WOW….” She leaned against the glass case lazily, much like Asra would do, and stared at his muscles hiding under his tattered cloak, as if she just had noticed them. “Shit... You still don’t trust me, do you?” She asks with an eyebrow raised as she takes her first sip.

Muriel shrugged annoyedly, firmly placing the rocky cup to the floor.

An odd slightly flirty laugh radiated from her lips as she kept eyeing him up and down with a bit of hunger in her eyes. “... You…. you hate me… don’t you?” She says with a strange yet sad smile.

Alarmed by the question, he glanced towards her feet as he opened and closed his mouth. Honestly, he didn’t have an answer; if he was being really truthful, he didn’t know what to think of her—Hell, he didn’t want to think of her. All their interactions always felt like emotional whiplash, one moment she was helpful, the other she was spiteful and rather mean. In all fairness, his mind was nowhere near this shop. Really, he wanted to be home in the forest, far away from this noisy city, away from people, away from her, alone with Inanna in his hut and his chickens, next to a roaring fire, far far away from whatever this was. But for one reason or another he was here, sitting uncomfortably inside this girl’s house not drinking weak-ass watery tea.

Taking the silence as a ‘yes’, Rhemi chuckled to herself before downing her spiked tea in two alarmingly large gulps, then whipped her upper lips with her pointer and middle finger provocatively. “… Alright… Could work with that.” She says rather seriously, placing her cup down at the counter, then proceeds to peel off her black jacket seductively and blindly toss it to the ground behind her. “…Never done a hate fuck before.” 

“—Huh?” Alarm bells rang loudly in the hermit's head. Stund he just sat there confused as she walked closer to him, she had a loose white shirt under the jacket with a black corset belt. He could feel the sweat beading on his brow as she got closer and closer. He felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end as she leaned towards his face. Muriel had a very different look about him than one would think; there was no red on his skin, there was no flustering or floundering about. Instead his face twisted with disdain as he recoiled into himself. Finally, as he realized there was no way to escape this situation, he quickly pressed his large fingertips into the top of her collarbone and ribs, (touching her as little as possible) as he pushed her away looking anywhere but her eyes, “—The hell are you–?” he mutters in disgust. 

Confused by his rejection, she blinked a few times before she scoffed, “…What? Despite my better judgment, You're a man, and I’m a woman…” She says as she stared down towards his trousers biting her lower lip. “… And we're alone…”

He shifted his eyes towards the door then back to her neck and shrugged. “… Aaaaand?” Hoping to the gods she wasn’t being serious.

“… Andddd—Don’t you want to fuck the shit out of each other?” She said as she grabbed her breast. 

“…..‘Xcuse me?” Baffled, Muriel wrinkled his nose looking away from her once again, standing to his feet. “What are you–…?” 

“UGH!!! It’s a hate-fuck, moron!” Annoyed, she rolled her eyes and her shoulders dropped. She couldn't believe she had to explain this. But then she sighed and smiled as she looped her fingers around one of his belts pulling him closer suddenly finding his nativity kinda cute. “… You know, I call you a ‘stupid fucking piece of shit’…” she says grabbing his wrist moving his hand towards her neck. “…and you choke till I’m red in the face and we fuck the everloving shit out of each other—it’s a very simple concept, Blanket-boy. You can do whatever you want to me and I can do whatever I want to you…. Then after, you can be on your merry way, and we’ll never talk about it ever again…”

Dumbfounded, the Hermit stared at her general direction blankly with his mouth gaped open with a total loss for words. Where did this even come from? One minute she was pissed off and hurling insults and profanities, and now she wants to fuck him? None of this made any sense to him.

But… Now that his current self could see it again, he noticed the cold emptiness in her eyes. Did she even want him? ….Or did she just want to feel something? Judging from her length of hair and the season, this was waist deep into the epidemic. She probably had witnessed scores of people die by now. By the look of it, Asra had been gone for quite some time now. Either way it was obvious, there was something very wrong with her psyche. Now that Muriel thought about it, she died only a couple of months later… Maybe all she wanted was to just not be alone that night. Maybe she felt like offering herself up like that was the only way she didn’t have to be alone.

Finally, Muriel’s past self shook out of his stupor as he pushed Rhemi away and fastened his belt back tightly, making her slightly tumble backwards. “… Hells wrong with you!?”

“Hells wrong with you?” She snapped back as she braced the glass counter. She looked him up and down before a smirk creeped in from the corner of lips as she realized. “... What? … This your first time or somethin’?—" Finally some heat radiated from Muriel’s cheeks from that rather invasive question and he shrunk into himself. She giggled demeaningly as she started unbuttoning her blouse. “I see… That’s fine… I can show you—”

“–STOP!!” He half shouted. “JUST…. Stop!”

His outburst suddenly made her freeze, she felt a twinge of fear from his booming voice. But after shriveling into herself, she stuck out her chest (showing more cleavage than Muriel would have liked) and clenched her fist, absolutely infuriated at being rejected like this. No one had ever turned her down like this before. “... What? You think your precious Asra’s gonna give a shit?—hate to break it to you, Blanket-Boy… but Asra ain’t here!!... HA! Bet ya he’s probably fucked about a three dozen people by now.” Muriel’s fist clenched, and his teeth gritted. She knew that this was an open wound to him, she didn’t care about his feelings, but she was out for blood now. “...Yepppp! Sorry to burst your bubble there, Blanket-Boy… But he doesn’t give a fuck about you–”

“—Do you ever shut up??” He finally growled. He was furious, every muscle seemed to have been tensed as he stood there. “Do you ever stop to think of why you’re here alone??” 

“... Excuse me–? I’m not alone… You’re literally the only guy that’s ever said no—”

“—It’s your fault Asra left!!” He barked angrily. For a moment he was surprised by what came out of his mouth. Of course he realized how hurtful those words were. But at this very moment, he didn’t regret what he said. “And it’s your fault you're all alone.”

Rhemi glared at him emptily for what felt like minutes. Then tucked her chin towards her chest as she looked at the floor. Unexpectedly, Rhemi smiled maniacally and started to giggle to herself disturbingly. Tears swelled as she kept her eyes on him. “…. Don’t you think I know that?” She muttered softly as a tear dripped from her lashes. Her smile then fell as she slumped to the ground, her back to the glass case and her knees tucked into her chest. “... Ya ruined the mood…. Get out…”

Furious, the past Muriel lifted his hood and turned his heels towards the door and left without another word. And Muriel watched himself as he disappeared from sight after slamming the door shut. With the heavy force, all the candles blew out as Rhemi was left with only the moonlight from the rear window. 

The current Muriel could only watch as she sobbed. He hated watching her cry again and again, he felt so helpless. He knew this all already happened, but all he wanted to do was to hold her. Back then he had no idea how broken she was. But then again, back then he was too. Was he even capable of being a comfort back then? Muriel reached out, but instead of being repealed, his hand fazed through her body just like the door. Somehow this felt even worse than before. It felt like every time he was closer, yet further away from her. He stayed by the poor girl’s side until she faded away. 

Suddenly, the ferret zipped past Muriel’s feet as the memory disappeared as quickly as it appeared.

“Rhemi-Roo!” he called out again, darting quickly in another direction. Muriel then got back to his feet and quickly followed once again. Muriel looks back up that there was only darkness where Rhemi was once sitting. She wasn’t there anymore, but he could still hear her cries and he could feel tears welling his eyes as he turned towards the ferret once more.

———–—— The dead Rhemi–––——–

The apparition was constantly and violently dragged down by the currents. Wave after wave fell over her, it almost felt like a thousand hands as they held her down and just wailed on her already weakened body. Their fingers dug into her paper thin skin and she felt like she was being ripped apart. Whatever this thing was, it was hostile as hell. Finally, it let go as she was thrown down to the bottom and both her arms broke away from her body. Feeling the release, she inhaled hard and tried her best to catch her breath. Once regaining some of her composure, she quickly took her right arm and clumsily fused it back together by using her forearm and chest. Her other arm floated away a few feet before she could get a hold of it and fuse it back as well. 

Once her limbs regained their function, she exhaustedly collapsed face first to the ground trembling. Pain… There was so much pain. There was always this terrible pain. Slowly she rolled over to her back and gazed up, breathing heavily as she tried to get her bearings. It was dark all around her. It seemed to stay that way for a long while. But then a dim light suddenly swam towards her. Shielding her eyes from the brightness, she sat up rather irritated with all of this shit.

After her eyes adjusted, she saw that she was in a dimly lit hallway. She was back at the shop in the upstairs hallway and could hear faint sounds of a lullaby. It sounded almost like her mother’s voice, except it was deeper and impossibly raspier. Rhemi must have been at least twelve or thirteen. 

“Goddamn it….” The ghost muttered now realizing that she had been swallowed by that tar monster. She looked around, ignoring whatever bullshit memory she was in as shouted out for Muriel and Asra, but of course, only bubbles and gurgles came out. With a grumpy growl, she mustered up some magic and pointed towards her throat until she felt the constriction on her throat release. At last, the bubbles were replaced with actual words. 

She sighed in relief, and muttered, “Fucking shit….” crystally clear. “Mother fucking, piece of shit, dirty ass tar… Audacity to swallow me…” She grumbled throwing more and more profanities as she stood to her feet.  

She opened her mouth again to call out for Muriel or Asra, but then she heard a young girl’s voice mutter, “Mummy?”

Her own young voice sharply drew her attention back in and the ghost then looked back on the memory; as soon as she did she felt her stomach drop. “Noooo…. This wasn’t a memory… this was a dream.” She whimpered confused. Dreams didn’t belong in memories. Not in this place at least. 

A young Rhemi was following a trail of brownish-grey feathers mixed with bloody footprints, and scratch marks on the floor boards. “A-...Athena?... Is that you?” She whimpers, still listening to the eerie humming coming from behind the door to the bedroom. “Who’s there??” There was thumping and ripping like an animal was feasting behind it. The door was slightly ajar and the young Rhemi could see a creature inside Athena and her mother’s room that eventually became her own. She could only just barely make out a silhouette of the figure, it was too dark to see and their back was turned away from her but there were feathers everywhere. With shaky hands she pushed the door a bit more, but the hinges let out a rusty sounding, CREEEEAAAK. 

The young Rhemi let in a sharp and terrified inhale as the creature halted its feast and slightly lifted its head and a low growl mixed with a haunting dark cooing emanated from its throat that sounded like what a grotesquely tall monstrous morning dove would. The poor girl froze and trembled as she watched the creature drop what looked to be a piece of freshly dismembered deer with a loud THUNK as it slowly stood to its feet. The thing had to have been at least over six feet and it slowly turned its head to face her. The little Rhemi shuttered as she saw their dark large animalistic eyes. There was no white in those eyes, only brown and black pupils that were blown out. The creature just stood there, growling and muttering incoherently as Rhemi nearly pissed herself as she slowly backed away feeling her heart pounding out of her chest.

Suddenly hands quickly covered Rhemi’s eyes and mouth as the memory went black as she felt a forgetting spell being placed on her and all she could hear were distancing screams.

“Stop….” The dead Rhemi whimpered helplessly. 

The forceful hand then returned with a vengeance as they snatched the poor cadaver and viciously threw her into another whirlpool. She tried to fight back but it seemed to just make it worse. 

When she finally was released again, she found herself thrown into another horrid memory. This time she was in her late teens and Asra had met a new friend. They went off a few times together around the city. Rhemi was invited, but she never did accept the invitation. But this time she did follow them from behind the corners with her mother’s old hooded cloak. It was never clear if they were dates or just innocent friendly outings, but either way, Rhemi was terribly jealous and possessive. The friend's face wasn’t even clear, all the detail that came through was their bright bluish teal beautiful luscious hair. All other details didn’t matter, she couldn’t even recall their gender or orientation or anything like that… She couldn't even remember their face. It was just a blank featureless thing and they did have an annoyingly kind and flirty sounding voice. But what she could only see was that with vibrant pretty hair. She always did want pretty vibrant hair like that. 

All Asra and his friend were doing we're sitting near the fountain eating some kebabs and fresh pumpkin bread. But Rhemi was fuming with hatred as she glared at Asra's companion. The past Rhemi could only watch her young self as she conjured her magic as a nearby horse drawn carriage carrying some various goods went by. “Don’t….” The ghost muttered desperately. “Don’t do it!”

 Of course this was useless. All of this happens already, but still she wishes she never lifted her hand back then as her magic to spook a horse nearby. Rhemi was hoping for the creature just to kick up mud or maybe scare Asra’s friend a bit. The horse reared up sharply and started bucking wildly. The merchant tried his best to calm the beast, it then broke off from its cart and kept bucking and bucking. There wasn’t much time to react, by the time Asra and his friend tried to get out of the way. The horse’s left hoof smacked into the temple of Asra’s friend. A horrible sounding boney THUNK cracked aside their head and they dropped to the ground violently with a heavy sounding BLUNK.

A look of horror struck Asra’s face as he watched his new friend bleed on the cobblestone and innocent bystanders around scream in terror. The young Rhemi’s hand that casted the spell shook as she stared motionless at the scene unfold. She meant for some moderate chaos to happen perhaps; but she wanted nothing like this to happen. What the hell had she done?

But what’s worse was she could have ran out from her little hole and helped them. She could have helped comfort Asra as he fumbled through his way to heal their injuries. Better yet, she could have helped heal their injuries. She was better at it afterall. And yet she remained hidden behind that corner, doing nothing as their head continued to bleed on the filthy streets. She knew she should have helped this person, but all she did was stared. Everything in her brain was screaming to go and help, but instead her feet turned and her slow trundle turned into a sprint down the alley. And she just kept running.

“STOP!! I didn’t mean to hurt them!” The ghost screamed. “I just… I didn’t want…I didn’t want to lose–”

“Coward.” A dozen or so voices snarled.

The light dimmed and the hands returned, ripping her away yet again into god knows where. It felt like it would last forever this time, but then it finally threw her down hard face first. For a moment she held her face overwhelmed with stars in her eyes. She might be dead. But fuck did this hurt… She didn't even notice the light coming back as she held her poor broken nose. 

“Gods… You’re beautiful, Rhemi.” the ghost hears Asra’s breathless voice. 

“Ha…. You’re only saying that… that’s what you're supposed to say after..” she hears herself teased dismissively.

The dead Rhemi jerked her head up towards the direction of his voice with dread. “Oh fuck you…” she muttered now angry. As if the other memories weren’t enough…. This one was a bitch slap right across the face.

“No, I mean it.” He said with a half chuckle, tucking her short hair behind her ear.

This was in Rhemi’s room at the top of the shop, late in the afternoon, the candles were romantically lit and the intensity was sweet and fragrant. This couldn’t have been too soon before Athena died, but it was obvious she wasn’t there that day. That must have been when she started working for the palace. Rhemi couldn’t recall how they both ended up here, but all that matters is that it did… Rhemi and Asra were laying naked in the freshly messed up sheets as sweat clinged to their brows and glistened their bodies. They both were so young it seemed. They had to be in their early twenties by now.

He stared lovingly as he caressed her face as she stared off into space. “…I love you…” he finally admitted with that soft smile of his.

“....Wha—?” A look of shock stiffened the young Rhemi as those words sunk in. She shot up on bed and started to breathe a bit faster. “I’m sorry I think I’m hearing stuff. Maybe we should open a window, the incense is getting to me—”

“Rem…” Asra sat up with her and held her hands in his and looked deeply into her eyes. “I love you.”

Oh dear gods… He said it again… Frozen, she stared at him stupidly in silence and blinked rapidly.

Asra squeezed her hands as he mustered up the courage to say it another time. “Rhemi, I love you—“

And with that Rhemi quickly snatched her hands away, stood up and hastily started dressed again. “It’s—it’s getting late. We need to tally up the sales for the day. We told Athena we would…” She says with a cracking voice, very badly trying to hide the panic in her voice.

Confused, Asra half stumbled out of bed, grabbed his pants and started to don them on. “Rhemi…I—I’m serious-” 

“—Don’t we have a delivery of something coming tomorrow?” she diverted. “.. Is it the crystals or the dried herbs this month? I can never remember…” she kept her back to him, unable to look him in the eye. She didn’t want him seeing her trembling hands as she quickly tied her corset on.

Asra blinked emphatically with a sigh; He knew she was never good with these kinds of things. “Rhemi…” 

“—Matter of fact, we actually could use some more spices and teas… it’s not too late! Maybe I can make it to the market and pick up some—“ 

“Rhemi!” Finally Asra spun Rhemi around and grabbed her face sweetly. “Please….”

Helpless, she stood there and listened as her heart pounded loudly in her chest. 

“I… I’ve always loved you, Rhemi. Since we met at the Masquerade. I’ve loved you more and more each and every day. I love you so much I can barely stand it…” Slowly Rhemi lifted her left hand and brushed his fluffy white hair out of his face and he leaned into her touch. “ I… I want to be with you for the rest of my life—” Without warning, she placed her index finger and thumb to his temple and bridge of his nose and a warm sleepiness enveloped him. Just as she finished conjuring up a forgetting spell, the white haired magician sank down to the ground like a sack of potatoes with a THUD. 

As soon as he hit the floor she backed away clutching her chest and shivering as she tried to keep herself from hyperventilating. “Fuck…. Fuck… fuck…. FUCK!.” She muttered under her breath unsure what to do now—how could he have said that out loud?? He can’t say that now! How could he ruin this??? Why? Just why??

The apparition grunted and punched the ground with such force it nearly made her break apart again. Why on earth did she do that? Why didn’t she just let him love her? Why did she wait until the day he left the city to realize she loved him too?? “GODDAMN IT!”

The ghost could feel the hands returning, wanting to take her to another wretched memory; but finally she had just about as much as she could take, so she gritted her teeth ferociously. —“ENOUGH!!” The dead Rhemi yelled at the top of her lungs. The embers lit up as she mustered the magic that she could and created a current of her own. With her remaining magic, she reached out, looking for a trace of Asra or Muriel. She could feel the tar’s currents fighting back, but she shot out of there like a cannon, seeking Asra’s magic. Finally she could feel his lavender aura. “ASRA!!” She shouted.

————Muriel–————

Somehow a huge body of water appeared in front of Muriel and he watched as the ferret dove head first into the grey water and disappeared once again. Muriel sighed, getting tired of this game of hide and seek as a long wooden boat suddenly came from behind him. This boat actually looked rather familiar. Back during the plague, he’d been on this boat more times than he’d care to say. 

That day Muriel was there ferrying. Normally his job was to bury the dead, but today they needed someone to take people to and fro. That early morning, he shyly guided people on board, telling them to mind their step as he held up a lantern with his tattered hood covering his face. Muriel then realized Rhemi was also on board. She had her hood up and slightly hid herself realizing who her ferryman was. The whole entire trip to the island was silent. It was a foggy dawn and the waters were surprisingly still. Muriel never seemed to even mind. He was just doing his job. Rhemi glanced to the floorboards, there was a large shovel with dirt caked on its edges. She then chuckled softly to herself. She realized she was riding with the man who’d put her into the ground. Muriel outside of the memory’s stomach twisted sickeningly as he remembered this. There was so much happening back then… Finally as they docked a few people were found waiting to welcome her with their plague masks and black coats. They just looked like strange bird people waiting for a sacrifice. Without hesitation, Rhemi stepped onto the dock, ready to face her death. The bird people gently waved her closer and a guard wearing a mask nudged her. Then it seemed she had second thoughts, and she turned slightly towards Muriel. “You were right by the way…”

Confused, he turns to look towards her, half annoyed. But then he caught a glimpse of her eyes. They were bloodshot. The whites of her eyes now almost matched the color of her irises. And her skin was yellowed and blood vessels in her face were broken and pronounced. Rhemi was dying. “… I really am a coward… It was my fault he left….”

Impatiently, the soldier with a spear started to nudge her from a distance pushing the blunt end towards her, pushing her along. She stumbles a bit, before stopping again defiantly, now facing Muriel completely.

“Take care of him…. Will you?”

Muriel nodded slowly, he felt a profound sadness in his chest as he looked at her. She looked so…. withered. Never had he thought he’d see this girl that was so young and full of life be taken away from a damn plague. Not to mention, he never ferried anyone he actually knew. 

It felt like this memory took forever, but finally it faded away and the ferret reappeared once again, calling out for his Rhemi-Roo. 

————Asra & The past Rhemi————

Unable to move, the white haired magician watched his past self as he packed his bag and walked out the door. In his own memory, he thought that she shoved him out the door, that he was forced out. But here, he just left on his own volition. Was this how she remembered it? Or was this how it actually happened? That argument was not only heated, but emotionally heavy. 

His eyes then fell on Rhemi as stared at the door for a few moments. Her fist still clenched in a fit of anger, she looked like she could burst into flames. But she just stood there, part of her refusing to believe that he’d go through with leaving. 

“Open the door back…” She mutters. Part of her believed that he’d burst back through the door with his key and say sorry. Then she would too. They would hug, cry it out just like they always did. Everything would be fine like always. Everything will be like it always was. Them against the world…

However then the unmistakable sound of his thin shoes clacking against the wet cobblestone going in the other direction made her heart completely drop into her stomach. “No…” she softly whimpers, still listening to his fading food steps. “…You’re supposed to come back–” she starts to feel her heart race.

But his footsteps just kept getting farther and farther away. He’s really….. leaving…. He’s walking away. Her best friend…. Her only friend she had left…. The last person she had left in her life has just walked away. “No….. No…. No no no no no no…NO!...” She shouts to herself shaking her head as tears stream down her face. She listened once more, he had to come back. He had too… But there was nothing.

The room started to spin as her hands started to tremble and she could feel her heartbeat in her ears. Her lungs started to feel constricted as she pressed her back against the door. He’s not coming back. He’s really not coming back! She slammed the side of her tight fist into the hard wood behind her as she gritted her teeth. Slowly, she slid down and collapsed to her feet as she tried to catch her breath. She kept slamming the side of her fist back against the door over and over again until it trickled blood as rage, resentment, and sheer panic swirl violently around inside her body. Magic starts to pour out, and chaos explodes within the shop. The curtains shredded into ribbons, the ceramic tea cups and saucers on the table shatter into a million pieces, and cold kettle steams starts to whistle loudly with boiling water. Then the tension came to a head as she screamed on the top of her lungs, “—ASRA YOU STUPID FUCKING ASSHOLE!!!” and the glass countertop shattered and ingredients went flying everywhere. 

The pain of her bloody hand makes her open up her eyes and she inspects the damage she has now done; her hand was still shaking uncontrollably, but at least the room stopped spinning. Suddenly a broken piece of porcelain catches her eye. It’s Asra’s favorite teacup, a very dainty violet colored glaze with hints of greens and blues over the gray ceramic. It was a beautiful cup…. and now laid there in broken pieces on the wooden floor. It was a prized possession of his… and now it layed in pieces on the floor. And emptiness like other envelopes her whole chest. Slowly her eyes gaze around this now desolate space. It was so dark and quiet now. It has never felt so quiet before. It was so….. empty…. All the warmth that had once resided was gone. She started to rock back and forth, hitting the back of her head against the door. Her neck cocked back as a wave of tears overwhelmed her. With her knees tucked her knees into her chest, sobbing relentlessly, still rocking back and forth. “........Asra…. Asra….. don’t go….. Please don’t leave me alone like this…. I can’t do this all on my own…. I need you…I… love you too....” 

Asra stared at the memory, his chest started to feel so heavy. Pushing through the resistant tar, he reached his hand out for his Rhemi but his hand fazed right through her. He then fell to his knees as he watched her sob alone in the dark. He had abandoned her. Of course she was so clingy and possessive, behind it all she was afraid. Afraid he’d leave her, and that's exactly what he did to her. But back then, he just cared about himself. If only he’d insisted on Rhemi coming with him. Maybe things would have ended up very differently.

“ASRA!!” The ghost of Rhemi suddenly burst out of nowhere and found herself feeling some kind of gravity and she placed her feet to the ground. The sound of sobbing carried her towards his direction, and finally she saw Asra as he was on the ground in such distress. Only after she noticed the shop’s state and seeing her past self back pressed against the door did she realize what memory this was. “Oh no….” She faintly whispers. “Asra?” But he didn’t even seem to notice that she was even there. “Asra.” She called out once again but nothing. The ghost then slowly placed her crumbling hand to his back and he jolted his head up. 

His eyes red and wet, his bottom lip trembling full of regret. “Rh-... Rhemi…. I… I’m so sorry….”

The ghost looked towards the fading image of herself and shook her head. “Asra it wasn’t your fault.”

“I never should have left you…” He says, choking back his tears.

“… Asra… I could have just as easily opened that door. I could have chased after you….. but I didn’t. You had to do what was right for you. I never respected that. I…. I was such a selfish fool back then. I never could see what was the right thing for us… I only expected you to make sacrifices…. Not both of us…. I did whatever was good for me and my stupid ego… you… you deserved better…”

“I…. I wanted you to be back so badly.” Asra mutters through his tears. “I just wanted to hear your voice again… hear you singing in the shop while you brewed potions… feel the warmth of your skin.. all I wanted was you…. But… you didn’t come back to me…” shame now fills his tone as he admits, “…despite everything after all this time… part of me still wants you to come back.”

Rhemi glanced down at the ground with a sad blink. “I know… but I can’t—.”

“—I know you can’t!!” He sharply snaps, throwing down his fist to the ground. “You don’t understand—I know it’s impossible… I’ve spent years searching for an answer to bring you back, and I still came home empty handed!... And now…. If you were to come back…”

She sighs, gently placing her hand onto his clenched fist. “… Then the Rhemi you have now would no longer exist.”

“I have everything!” His fist loosens as he nods mournfully, wiping his face with his wrist. “There is this… emptiness in my chest…  It's been there so long! I… I don’t want to feel like this anymore, Rhemi!”  As the words left his lips, his eyes swell more as he cries even harder. It was if he realized that he very much meant what he said. “… All this time…. All I’ve done is mourn you. But it’s been so long, and I just want to move on. I think I’ve wanted to for some time now… I just want to live my life!! I want to be with someone who lo—” He hesitates as he sobs through his fingers and the other Rhemi grimaces a bit knowing exactly what he was saying. The words sting them both, but they obviously need to be said. “I want to love someone else.”

“Ilya…” She whispers knowingly.

Asra nods, unable to look her in the eye. He shakes as he sobs even more. “He gives me everything…. And— and I want to give him everything too, but I—I just…. can’t!! It’s like something won’t let me!!” He then clutched his chest, doubling over. “…. L-like something is holding me back.”

Tears rolled down the dead Rhemi’s cheek, making the embers hiss and sizzle as she stared at the poor magician. He was in such anguish. With a brave inhale, she reached into the left pocket of her skirt. “…It’s hard to admit this…. But I always wanted this… so once I got it… I didn’t want to let it go…” Asra lifted his head to watch as she pulled out a red blob and cupped it carefully in her hands. Confused at first, he just stares at the thing slightly disgusted, half expecting this was going to be like the creepy little child Rhemi with the teeth. “… But if I’m honest… I think Julian would take better care of this than I have. Perhaps I always knew that… maybe that’s why…. I hoped you two would meet...”

The red blob starts to beat, just a single beat. Asra’s chest leaped, feeling a hard palpitation behind his ribcage. The blob beat once again, and his chest seemed to follow as if it was answering its call. His eyes scanned the red blob and realized there were fresh veins and studied the contractions it was making. Then he knew. “… Is that?”

She nodded as another large tear ran down her face and turned to mist against the embers on cheek. She takes his wrist and brings it to the severed organ still cupped in her crumbling fragile hands. “…I… I should have given it back a long time ago.”

———Muriel——— 

As the ferret and Muriel came upon another dim light, he heard the ferret’s very distinct high pitch voice.  “Shouldn’t be here…” The small voice says. 

Muriel squinted his eyes towards the dim light. This memory was rather hard to see, but what he could finally make out, it seemed that a child Rhemi and Ezavior were in some kind of dark cellar or something. He had no idea where they were though.

“Pére said he was doing something for work.” The little Rhemi replied with a whisper. “He never brings stuff from work…And I wanna see!”

“Smell blood…” The little creature shivered. “Smell blood… Shouldn’t be here, Rhemi-Roo! Shouldn't be here!”

The child’s adventurous excitement then melted away as an eerie sense of unease took hold of her as she approached the rusty door. It looked to be an old safe door. 

Behind the door was Rhemi’s father and another man about thirty years old or so, who was tied up in the middle of the room with a rope that hung from wooden rafters, but his feet still touched the floor. The man was in rough condition covered in bruises, some shallow cuts around his torso and thighs, and some of his teeth littered the floor alongside a fair amount of blood that was new and old.  

Rhemi could hear her father speaking in Charlesian to a stranger. Muriel knew that they were speaking in a different language, but somehow he understood them perfectly. “Normally I do not like to repeat myself... and I have just about run out of patients.”

“Please… Monsieur Alarie… I work for no one…” The man whimpered weakly.

“So, if you wouldn't mind, Elias…” Martin continued ignoring his pleads. “...Tell me, who sent your sorry pathetic ass to spy on me?”

“Smells like gardener.” The little ferret mutters.

“The gardener? The one we just got a month ago?” She whispered back behind the door. Rhemi liked that man. He was always so kind to her and even kept some flowers in the corner of the grounds that she liked. Why was he down here with her father? Why was he tied up?

“Please… Monsieur Alarie… I didn’t…” The man hung there for a moment as he treaded off into silence with his hand tied to chains that hung from the ceiling. Martin took in a calm sigh and hung his head before he sat back down to an old wooden chair, then suddenly used his magic to bring a large sledge hammer into the air. The man shook his head desperately begging him to stop. 

“No! No please!” The man begged. THUNK!! The sledge hammer came out with a hellish force, shattering the man’s leg bone leaving it mangled and deformed. The stranger screamed so painfully and loudly it left little Rhemi ill feeling. It even made Muriel feel sickened as he watched.

“This is what happens when you do not listen.” Martin says annoyed between his prisoner’s blood curdling screams as he leaned back into the wood chair lighting his pipe for a smoke. “I broke your left leg… Probably beyond repair. Don’t worry, I know plenty of surgeons skilled in amputations.” He says tossing the used match to the ground. “...Now, why don’t we see what happens when you break the other leg?… Or perhaps we break something that you are sure to miss…” He says as the hammer hovered over the man’s genitals.

“NO!! Please!!! Please!! I’ll tell you! I’ll tell you!”

“Well well well!” Martin smiled as he blew out a bellow of smoke as he stood up and walked back over to the poor man. “… That's more like it, Elias.” Martin then leaned in close as the man muttered into his ear as he patted him on his head like a dog. “Give me a name.”

As Elias starts to weakly whisper in Martin’s ear for the name, a butler sees Rhemi and quietly yanks her back upstairs and shakes her and scold her. She was told a thousand times not to go anywhere near the cellar. But as soon as he started to lay in her even more, he noticed her eyes were blank and she was pale as a ghost. It all felt like things were in slow motion. Then finally, Phara ran over to her student, and the memory started to become hazy as if it was hastily scrubbed away by a spell. 

The memory of course faded away, and the ferret returned bounding and leaping away into the dark emptiness, leaving Muriel dumbfounded of what the fuck he just saw.

–———Asra & The past Rhemi———– 

Asra sat on his knees there very quietly but his eyes said it all. It was astonishing. Somehow it made sense, of course she had it. He did give it to her after all.

“But Rhemi… wouldn’t she—“

“Your Rhemi has her own heart now…” The specter half smiles with her tired lips. “Your Rhemi has had her own for a long time now….”

“… W-… When—?”

She shrugs, fighting the tears back. “—Since the masquerade…  the night Lucio came back, when all the deals with the Arcana were broken.” Her eyes stare at the half heart, gently stroking it with her thumb, the warmth always brought her comfort. “But I-… I wasn’t ready to let this go yet… besides, Rhemi was never the one who had it… I did…”

“… You know…. You always had it.” Asra mutters cupping the back of the ghost's ash-colored hands softly. “You’ve had it since the day we met…”

Now sobbing herself, the other Rhemi chokes through her tears as she glances up to him, “And you had mine…” 

For a moment Asra smiles, looking so relieved. The magician stares at it thoughtfully and he wipes his face again, hesitant to take it. “…. What will happen to Rhemi if I do take it back?” 

“Nothing…” The specter rasping replies. “She only needed your heart for a while, but like I said, over time she grew her own. You know, she’s much stronger than you think…”

He nods with a faint chuckle, “So I’ve been told..” Honestly he felt rather reassured. The new Rhemi was never a bother, Asra loved the version of her that came back to life, despite her not being the one he wanted back. But he didn’t love her like the way he did before. Over time he realized how special she was too. But the ghost was right, she already moved on, and her heart was with someone else who cared for her. And he couldn’t be more proud of that. 

Finally he cups the heart carefully in his hands and slowly pulls it towards his chest with a grateful smile. “Thank you, Rhemi.”

She forces a smile back, her face hissing and sizzling from the steady flow of tears as she gently takes her hand and twists a curl of his fluffy white hair. “I will always love you, Asra.” He pauses, looking back into her red gaze. Even though they were bloodshot, he could still see the beauty in them. They warm pools of brown and red with a deep sense of cynicism that he always thought was charming just like when they first met. Back then, she was just a messed up kid, just like him, and he loved that about her. “…I’m— I am sorry I was never brave enough to tell you that when I was—“

In one foul swoop, Asra then takes the heart in one hand, pulls the sleeve of her shirt with the other and swiftfully pulls her into his arms and he places a passionate kiss on her lips. She tasted like a crematorium and dirt, but he didn’t care. She kissed him back longingly wishing she told him her feelings long ago. But really it doesn’t matter. What was done is done.

They part as they hear a windy howl billow all around them. The tar then rippled and growled as it made a b-line towards the spector. The other Rhemi knew the tar was coming back after her. Quickly, she takes Asra’s wrist that held the severed heart, and she forcefully shoves the organ quickly to his chest. He shutters as the remaining air in his lungs l was pushed out, but then he could feel a rush of warmth seeping behind his torso. He inhaled almost laboriously and looked down to his now empty hand. He could only watch helplessly as the other Rhemi was ripped away as a heavy current dragged her down into oblivion as he felt the emptiness in his chest finally dissipate. 

“Rhemi!—” he faintly mutters and he watches her disappear. The world started to become hazy, feeling a strange sense like he was being pulled away as well, yet the tar still left him alone. 

“RHEMI!!!!”

—————

Outside in the real world, Julian was on his third or fourth cup of highly caffeinated black tea as he flipped through an old diary that was in the chest that was under the stairs. It was written by Athena, the journal entailing her time that she worked for Lucio before Julian’s time. Some of it was a loosely written diary, but it was mostly notes of her research of the plague. It’s too bad the doctor never got to know the woman more, she seemed to have almost cracked the truth behind the plague years before he even came close. It was honestly an interesting read and he found himself rather engrossed in her writings. 

He was about to take a sip of his very hot tea when Asra suddenly jolted violently, arching his back then collapsing back to the floor with a sharp inhale as if something had punched him square in the chest and he was trying to gasp for air. Startled, the tea went flying as the doctor shuttered. But then quickly, he placed the cup down with a loud CLUNK on the table and dashed to his partner’s side on the floor. “Asra??” He mutters, running his long fingers through the magician's white hair worried that something had gone terribly wrong.

“Rhee-….mi” He muttered as he shifted his shoulders. He was still asleep. “Rem.. wait…” he sleepily spoke under his breath again before settling down again. 

The tension in Ilya’s shoulders relaxed as soon as his partner calmed back down. This wasn’t the first time Asra muttered her name when he was asleep. The doctor never really got upset about it, he understood their relationship was rather complex and he still had moments where he didn’t seem to be over her. Let’s face it… It’s hard to get over someone who you brought back to life, not to mention after sacrificing so much for them. It was slightly confusing sometimes, and he’d be lying if he didn’t feel a little jealous of it from time to time. But who knows what was happening in the dream realm right now… 

Unwilling to disturb the trio’s dreamy work, the red headed doctor sighed as he pulled his hand away from Asra’s scalp then stood to his knees so he could return to his spilled cup of tea. But Asra wrinkled his face with a low groan and in his unconsciousness he grabbed Ilya’s wrist. Surprised, the doctor froze in place and only used his eyes to glance at the other two. Were they all waking up? Was it over? Was Rhemi going to be okay? But his silent questions were only replied with more silence. They were all still as they could be, but Asra was still stirring and mumbling incoherently. Fearful that he’d woken up much too early, and unaware of what was happening inside this dream realm, the doctor slowly sat back down and placed his hand back to Asra’s hair. Instantly the magician seemed to calm back down and fall back to full sleep. Julian then nodded his head and smiled as he petted his white hair again. “I’m here Asra…” he whispered lovingly. This was one of the rare times when the magician wanted to be cuddled and his hair fondled, and Julian refused to let this slip past him.

Julian then stared at the spilt tea on the ground realizing it was going to stain the only carpet that seemed to have survived the botched dinner party with Martin. He sighed defeatedly. “…Rhemi’s gonna kill me when she wakes up….” He then glanced back towards her still sleeping deeply on the velvet couch with a somber look. “…If she ever wakes back up…”

✨To be continued...

[Well... Hello there! It's been a very long long time my sweet sweet trash pandas. I have missed you all so very much. A little update in my life if you haven't seen, I had kiddo of my own just last year! I am officially a Mother Llama! So as you can image, life has been very very crazy. I am still so sorry it has taken me so fucking long to finish this damn thing. Part of me wants to just let it go, but I've honestly wrote about 75% of it at this point and just want to complete this project. Can't promise when this thing will be done, but I will try my damnest to keep cracking away at it! Anyways, thank you guys as always for reading my hot garbage! Mother Llama hopes you all are doing amazing <3]

And yes. I created my own background/card!.... (hold your applause) 😆

The design was a combination between the original tarot (bottom left) and the game’s fool card (bottom right) that I got via google search.

The background is supposed to be the outskirts of Charlès, past the mountains and close to the Salty Sea.

She was a beautiful young woman, no older than eighteen, her hair s burgundy brown and curly, pulled back into a handkerchief and her gorgeous teal blue eyes and wearing commoner’s clothes with a dingy apron around her waist. Just like always, she acted like it was just another ordinary day and as cheery as ever.

“Well! Good morning, my little rabbit.” She says with a smile as she sits and folds the laundry.

“..... Morning.” Martin gently replies, unable to keep his eyes off of her.

“Beautiful day, isn’t it?”

He swallows hard and shakes his head. He knows this is just a dream. “Why… Why does this keep happening?”

For a moment she stops folding, and looks up at him with such gleaming and loving eyes, tilting her head and looking at Martin with such concern.

“Why here?.... Why this moment?” He frustratedly mutters. “And not any other moment. Just…. This. One?”

The young woman sighs and lightly shrugs, shaking her head. “... You tell me, little rabbit.”

Martin tries to stand up from his chair, but like always, he is stuck in one place. Angry, he tries and tries but something is keeping him here in this one spot.

“You know that doesn’t help any.” She says sadly. “It never has…”

A deep sigh expels from his lungs again as he finally accepts his situation and his eyes peer back to the young woman, pain in his cold teal eyes. “..... Why didn’t you just stay home that day?” He asks with gritted teeth and folded hands. “I... I told you not to go.”

Tears start to well in her eyes as she looks at him silently, slowly standing to her feet. The house just evaporates, replaying it with a foggy gray atmosphere. “Why didn’t you come with me?” She whispers as her feet lift off the ground.

An eerie high pitch ringing overwhelming his ears as she keeps staring at him as she stops levitating about three feet from the ground. A terrifying crack emanates from her neck as it snaps quickly to the right.

Martin shutters stifling his tears, shutting his eyes tightly and turning his head away from the horror. But suddenly feels himself waking up from the warm licks from Beatrix’s tongue.

------

Fluttering his eyes open, he finds Beatrix in his lap, looking at him slightly concerned. “Little Piegon’s here, Master.” Her scratchy voice mutters in his head.

Martin rubs his tired eyes, and smoothing back his plum and gray hair. “Thank you, Bea.”

Waiting patiently, Martin stares into the fire, in deep thought, wondering why his dreams keep taking him to that dreadful day. If it wasn’t that dream, it was always about Florence and Rhemielia. The night that she and their child were whisked away. All the while he was trapped underneath a pile of fiery debris, and his skin burning his right arm.

---------- Later that day-----

As Rhemi steadily makes her way back to the shop, taking three times as long. Her lack of oxygen is taking its toll on her. “This….. fucking thing!….” She huffs to herself, gasping for air in between her thoughts as she takes a seat on a nearby barrel. “...*huff*  Fuck….*huff*.... This…*huff*...*huff*..... Corset!”

After getting adequate rest, she stands to her feet and clasps the small part of her waist feeling the corset digging into the tops of her hip bones.

“... Fuck this dress. Fuck that Oliver guy. Fuck this day...” She grumbles to herself under her breath, attempting to ignore all the wide eyed stares from the citizens she passes, hoping that no one would recognize her. “Fuckthisfuckthisfuckthisfuckthisfuckthisfuckthis….” She grumbles to herself, face beat red. “Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuck.”

Finally, the shop was within her sight as the sun was setting over the city. It took so long to get here! Rhemi thinks to herself, realizing that the lamplighters are hard at work lighting the dark streets. She left the palace around three o’clock, it's probably almost five or so now. If anything came out of this, it’s respect for the poor aristocrats in Charlès who actually wore this stuff on the regular bases! Why would anyone want to wear this stuff everyday? Did Mum really wear this crap? This is awful!

Opening the door to the shop never felt so good. God, I can’t wait to get inside! I am so happy to be home. She rejoiced in her head. Finally home! Three different voices muffled on the other side of the door. Rhemi knew right away who they all belonged to. Then, a horrible thought comes to mind as she turns the key in the lock after taking down the protection spell. ….Oh no….. Oh god!.... What the hell are they gonna say about this abomination??

Then again…. she was so tired at this point, she didn’t really care. The pain of the corset outweighed the pain of her friend's judgement. With as much air as she could fill in her restricted lungs, she bravely opens the door, all three pairs of eyes immediately falling on her.

Asra excitedly starts to greet his friend with a brilliant smile. “Hey! There she is! Welcome…” But then stops as he sees her, his eyes wide, his smile crumples into a shocked snicker.

The lively chattering that filled the room suddenly ceases, the only thing that can be heard is the creaking of the rusty hinges of the shop door as it shuts behind her.

Awkwardly, Rhemi just stands in the doorway as Asra, Faust, Muriel, and Julian just stare at her. None of them could help but stifle their laughs at the overly fluffy dress that she’s wearing.

Julian opens and closes his mouth attempting to formulate a sentence.“That's… errr….. It’s… Ummm-aahhhhh..” He stammers as he rubs his face, searching for a compliment. But of course, Asra stands next to him, covering his smile with his clasped hands and eyes wide, his thoughts very apparent.

Looking silently between them all, realizing that they were trying to be as kind about it as possible. “.... It’s fucking atrocious, isn’t it?” Rhemi finally verbally admits with a half straight face.

“It’s a goddamn travesty is what it is.” Asra spits out as soon as she completes her sentence. All four of them stand there silently all waiting how’d be the first to crack.

Suddenly, all of them sputter into hard laughter at the same time, breaking the terrible silence.

“My god!.... What the hell is this thing anyways??” Julian adds overdramatically gesturing to the hips. “Rhemi-dear, are you wearing ….crinoline??”

“... Crino-What??” Muriel mumbles as he squints his eyes.

“It’s a type of tortuous device placed under dresses that a deranged idiot designed to make your hips look inhumanly large.” She replies nonchalantly as attempts to reach back for the buttons, trying to contort herself to do so. But, try as she might, the poor apprentice couldn’t reach without completely tearing the sleeves. However, as stubborn as she is, she continues to try to reach in hope to get out of this over-tightened corset. All at the same time, Muriel, Asra, and Julian try to figure out the reason why she’s wearing the damn overly extravagant monstrosity.

“....There are… So… many bows….” Muriel mutters as tugs at one to study it, seemingly not liking the texture and his face hilariously cringing hard.

“Oh… I know!….. It’s bad, huh, Muri?”

“Reallllllly bad.”

“Did you lose a bet, Rem?” Asra teases, still laughing his ass off.

“Nooooooo,” A whine emanates from her mouth and her bottom lip pops out. Despite her cute pout, the corner of the lips still twist up into a grin making her slightly look like a duck. Slightly frustrated, but also entertained by her stupid situation, she sighs deeply and slouches as much as she could (given her restrictive outfit).

About having enough of trying, she huffs feeling rather defeated, but still smiles at her friends. “If you three are gonna keep dishing out colorful insults, you might as well help me out of it... I can’t freakin’ breathe!”

“... Yo-... You can’t get out by yourself, Rem??” Muriel snorts, forcefully hiding a very amused smile, trying to politely withhold a bellowing laugh at her situation. “Sorry… It’s not funny.” He mumbles as he presses his lips together even tighter.

“Do you really think I would have come home with this... thing if I could take it off myself?? It took… like…. Five people to get me in this abomination!”

“Are you.... Errr…. Decent underneath all of it?” Julian warily asks, his eye quickly glancing towards Muriel while he wasn’t looking.

“Don’t worry Ilya, you’ve seen more at the beach. I have a shift or… or slip…? -Whatever it’s called under the corset.” Say says lifting up the dreaded skirt showing the many layers of cloth on her body. “Pft! This bitch has so many layers, it puts our wedding cake to shame.”

“Oh god.” Muriel chuckles, his laughter making his broad shoulder shake, not doing a very good job to keep it in.

“Ohhh! Shut your face!” Rhemi playfully smacks her finacè’s stomach. “Now, please! Get me out of this damn thing! I feel like my boobs are suffocating me! Do you guys want me to die from titty asphyxiation?!”

“I’d argue that it wouldn't be a bad demise!” The doctor chuckles with his dubious smile of his.

“Shuddup Ilya!” Rhemi playfully elbows her friend, slightly knocking the wind out of him.

But he continues to laugh and laugh,as he holds his stomach nearly hyperventilating. “..We-.... We’ll write on your tombstone, ...‘Here lies Rhemi… Escaped death once from the plague to die from a common corset.’..”

Asra chortles, nearly crying now as Faust happily hisses, “Rhemi a tent!”

Out of the sea of laughter, Rhemi finds herself feeling more light headed, unable to contain her giggles either. “Hey! Less talkie, more unbutton-ie! I am literally dying over here! I am not joking when I said that I nearly passed out a few times over here. I left around three!”

The mountain man’s face suddenly becomes more serious as she says that, his laughter completely silenced “Wait…. Really?? Are… you ok?”

“I mean… I made it here, didn’t I?” She says with a shrug and a half grin.

A warm grumble rumbles from his lips as he mutters, “That’s not…”

“—Alright, alright, alright! Turn around, ya big baby.” Asra teases her, finally feeling pity for her. “Let’s get you out of this thing… Then we’ll have a bonfire. Haha!”

It took some time, but after some troubleshooting and a bit of magic, the three managed to peel the dress, the extra layers, and the crinoline off, leaving only her tight overbust, and a shift underneath. With surgical hands, Julian and Asra loosened the loops.

Finally, the corset was loosened, Rhemi took in a large breath of fresh air as if she had just made love. “Ahhhhhhhh~ Sooooo much better.”

“Better wait a few minutes before loosening it again.” Julian adds with a serious doctor face. “Don’t want you actually passing out.”

“Tha-that's a thing that can happen??” A very wary Muriels asks.

“Why, yes! If you let it out too quickly, you can pass out… Your blood pressure can drop and leave a person unconscious. Happened a few times to the actors at the theater.”

“That's….. Worrisome.” Muriel says as his eyes fall on his fiancée again, and pointing to the corset. “You never told me these things were hazardous.”

Unable to contain herself, Rhemi takes her lover’s large hand and holds it with both of hers with an empathetic expression. He’s so cute. “Aww! I never wear them this tight, honey! I like the way my corsets look and feel on my body. But this one is garbage!”

“Actually it’s not that bad.” Julian says peeling away the cloth and exposing the boning structure underneath. “.....It’s made out of whale bone! It’s expensive and very strong. It’s just not your size.”

“Oh! Speaking of expensive, that reminds me.” Julian takes out Rhemi’s coin purse and hands it back to her, only a few coins used. “I believe this belongs to you.”

It takes a few moments before she realizes that the doctor never used her money last night, she instantly pouts. “Ilya!! You’re drinks were supposed to be on me you dork!”

“Rhemi-dear, what happened at tea the other day was not your fault!”

You mean ‘what my father said’. She thinks to herself. “But— My father— it wasn’t right what he—”

“—You can’t control what that basta—.. dahhhhhhh errrrrr... I mean…. What he says.”

“... Nice save.” Asra whispers to his lover.

“I never got the chance to tell you how sorry I am. I… I kinda regret inviting him. Tea was just so awkward. It should have been just us, like Nadia planned it.”

Julian wraps his long arms around Rhemi’s shoulders for a friendly hug. “Please don’t apologize. I’ve honestly heard worse.”

“I’m still sorry it happened.”

“Hey, don't worry about it. It’s not worth it.” He then moves his arm and takes a seat in the velvet couch never to Asra, causing them to lazily lean on his shoulder. Slowly, Faust slithers over to Julian and he tries his best not to get chills. “So…. Ahhhh… Ya gonna tell us why you are wearing this….. Errr…. getup?”

“... My father apparently brought his own tailor on board with him… Names Oliver… real piece of freakin’ work!... My father wanted him to give the dress as a present to me. It’s apparently the latest fashion from Charlès… All the noble women wear something like it.”

“..... Sooooo… I assume that he didn’t take it too well that you two aren’t moving to Charlès.” Asra asks, handing her own clothes to her so she could get comfortable.

“Wait, he wanted you both to move??” Julian cluelessly interjects with his left eye wide.

An intense pressure suddenly overtakes Rhemi’s stomach as if gravity doubled on her intestines. How the hell is she supposed to explain what happened today? Not only did her father still want her to leave Vesuvia, but he wants her alone to move and marry someone of nobility in Charlès!

“....Actually, he was very understanding.” She flat out lies before she could stop herself.

Rhemi, what are you doing?? She screams internally. Why are you lying again?!

“... He was of course disappointed, but he was very respectful about it!” She continues as if her mouth had a mind of its own, her body posture scarily calm and believable. “... But it’s best not to mention it to him… He’s still very disappointed. Might spark a nerve with him. Ya know?”

Asra and Julian exchange a surprised look as they hear this. Julian rubs the back of his hand and sighs, “He doesn’t seem to be the understanding type--”

“—Well, he might surprise you.” Rhemi defensively interrupts. “He might be very posh and rigid on the outside…. But I know, deep down he just cares about me.”

Muriel stares down at her with his knowing emerald eyes completely unconvinced as she walks past him to head upstairs to get changed. She dared not look at him for too long. He had a way of making her break. But how could she explain this to him? To…. well, anyone?? Her father didn’t even acknowledge that she was getting married.

No. She just…. Has to fix this before anyone knows. She had to.

———————

After Rhemi got dressed, the four of them all had a nice dinner that Muriel and Asra whipped up. It was chicken souvlaki wrapped in a pita and other greens.

After that, the two couples went their separate ways for the night. Asra and Julian stayed at the shop, while Rhemi and Muriel went back home to the hut.

She feared that he might bring up what she said before dinner, about her father accepting thor decision not to leave. He always knows when she’s bullshitting. That's the problem when you get to know someone so well. It's a sixth sense, knowing something is wrong.

But to her surprise, he stayed quiet. She reads a book on the bed as he whittles next to Inanna by the fire. Eventually, her eye starts to become heavy and she shuts her books and gets into her nightgown. Muriel follows her lead. Soon, all three get comfortable in the bed, taking their normal positions. Rhemi on the left side of the bed, Muriel at the right, and Inanna at the foot. The apprentice always laid on his bare chest snuggling up and getting warm.

“I love you, Muriel.” She whispers.

Muriel yawns, “... I love you too, Rhemi…” Thinking he's drifting off to sleep, she starts to close her eyes as well and feel herself falling asleep. “.... Was he really okay with us not moving?” He finally whispers.

Rhemi's heart drops, but she just stays there silent and still, pretending to be asleep.

The hermit lets out a frustrated sigh, before placing a feather light kiss on her forehead. “.... Please just don’t forget I want you to talk to me.”

….. I know…. She thinks to herself. I want to tell you. But… I’m scared that might make things worse. I’m sorry, Muri. I don’t want to lie to you… But I have to fix this by myself before you know the truth.

Finally, all of them start to drift to sleep, Muriel finds himself in the realm of dreams, his father waiting for him yet again, waiting to show him what he was capable of in the realm of dreams.

All the while Rhemi stays put, in a dreamless state, but finds herself waking up almost every hour from a twinging pain in her temples. She could swear she was hearing distant voices.

———The next morning———

A very groggy Rhemi finally wakes up from the sun peering into the window. Sitting up, in the bed, she realized that Muriel and Inanna were already up and started the day. Glancing over to the table, some fresh flowers and herbs were waiting for her and a note that read, "Get some rest." She couldn’t help but smile despite feeling so terrible. The headaches are getting worse and worse lately. Even when she wakes up, it's like a hammer is knocking on the side of her temples. Luckily, it would dissipate as the day went on, but it was such a nuisance to start off the day like this. At least she didn’t have any dreams last night…

Slowly, she gets up and walks over to the washing washing bowl, trying to get more energized for the day. This was one of her installations when she moved into the hut. It was a little table (taller than most for her sweet Muriel) with a washing bowl, a pitcher and a mirror from the shop. It must have been her mother’s. It was the one thing that didn’t necessarily match the other decor from the shop. Pouring a liberal amount of freshwater, she starts washing her face. The cool water felt nice on her temples. As she glances back up to the mirror to make herself look more alive, she notices someone behind her.

Summoning her magic quickly into her hands, she conjures a defensive spell as she whips around silently. But as soon as she turns around, no one is there. The door is locked, and she can still hear Muriel cutting wood. “.... Must have been my imagination.”

Turning back to the mirror yet again to look at her reflection. But instead of her own face, she sees her eyes bloodshot red and short hair, her expression bleak and sad.

“.... Headache again?” A voice mumbles to her sadistically from the reflection.

“AHHHHH!!!” Shocked, Rhemi yelps a terrified scream, punching the mirror out of instinct. The vision and the pieces of glass shatter into pieces. Immediately, she regretted her reaction. She tucks her hand into her chest in pain, her knuckles bloody, and the mirror is broken. Looking at the shards on the ground, all she can see is her own reflection in the small fragments. What… what the fuck was that?

“RHEMI?!” Muriel cries out from behind the hut.

“.... Shit….” Quickly Rhemi jumps up and carefully takes the mirror off the wall and places it on the floor to make it look like it just fell down. The last thing she wanted was to think that she was losing her mind. Besides, people see things all the time, it doesn’t mean you're crazy… right??

“RHEMI !” Muriel shouts as he bursts in the hut, his large ax still in hand. As soon as he sees the blood, his eyes get even wider and swirling with fear. “Y-... You’re bleeding!”

“Ahhh!” She shouts, waving her hand to keep him away. “Don’t let Nana in here! T-There's glass everywhere!”

Examining the damage, Muriel shakes his head bewildered. “Rem... What happened?”

“... Ohhmygosh!! HaHa! So dumb!... Completely my fault! I was trying to straighten the stupid mirror and I apparently…. It fell off the nail! I… I didn’t catch it in time and it broke, and I screamed.”

He starts to slightly relax, but still looks pretty anxious. “.... You okay?”

“Yeah! I just cut myself a little on the glass is all! Just a little scratch, nothing I can’t fix~!”

Taking a single step inside he sets the ax down outside and reaches his hand for her. “.... Let me at least help—”

“It’s fine, Love!” She says as she conjures her magic to clean the pieces up and place them back into the mirror. “See? No problem!”

Begrudgingly he huffs, and starts to step out of the doorway before pausing. “.... Get dressed. I’ll make breakfast. You just …. sit…. alright?.... Don’t go near anything breakable…. Or sharp.” He grumpily instructs.

She snickers and nods her head. “Okay.”

As soon as the door shuts, her smile falls and she stares at her knuckle so she could heal it. Luckily, it wasn’t very deep, however it was a little long. She sits down at the table, taking a little piece of herb and summoning her magic, she starts mending her skin together. After it was all healed up a very small scar was left. It should dissipate after a while. But she just stares at it for a moment.

“Get it together, Rhemi.” She mumbles to herself as she stands to her feet to get dressed.

There's too much going on today for this bullshit. She had a plan for her father to get on board with her getting married.

--------

After a delicious breakfast, and a few sweet kisses, Muriel and Rhemi part for the day. Making her way to the shop, she concocks the perfect plan.

As expected, the shop was open and ready for business, usually Asra at the counter with a book or a potion, but today the white haired gender bastard was nowhere in sight, and the shop appeared empty.

“Hello??” She calls out. “Asra?? Faust?? You home?”

“Oh! Morning, Rhemi.” He greets from the back next to the stairs.

Realizing his location she strolls to where he was sitting on the ground and she takes off her bag. “.... Good morning. What the heck are you doing back there, ya weirdo?”

“Refusing to accept defeat.” He chuckles, wiping a little bit of sweat on his forehead. In front of him was a large chest oozing with magic and locked up tight. It read, ‘Fragile: Please handle with care’ in a familiar handwriting. In his right hand was the bundle of rusty old keys.

Curious, Rhemi tilts her head and folds her arms. “What is this?”

“Found this…” He grunts as he attempts to force another key into the lock. “... Chest… under the stairs the other day…. And…. I think it belonged to Athena…. *grunt* but no matter what I doooo…” With a heavy sigh, he gives up on that key, pulls it out of the lock and nearly collapses on his elbows. “... The damn thing won’t open. I have tried opening it with magic, I have tried every key in the shop--twice now--Hell! I even tried using a crowbar! But... nothing.”

“Huh….” She mutters. Rhemi kneels down next to her friend and the chest. Both of them stared at it for a moment. “... Well… Obviously it’s got a powerful spell on it. Athena didn’t want anyone in it.”

“Yeah… Even in death, that woman had out magic us.” The two of them giggle together on the floor. Asra draps his arms over his knees and he smiles, his mind wondering into nostalgically territory. “... I miss her.” He mumbles under his breath.

“.... I do too.” The apprentice says with a heavy heart, resting her head on his shoulder. “I…. I wish she could be here… See how much we both grew up…”

"Me too..."

The two stay there for a moment, taking it all in. The sound of the bedroom door closing at the top of the stairs brings them back to reality and Julian’s long legs descend the stairs.

“Oh! Morning, Rhemi-dear!” He says with a chipper tone.

She rolls her eyes at that name, but at this point, she just learned to accept it. “Well good morning to you too…. Someone slept in late…It’s nearly ten o’clock.” She teases.

“HA. Well…. Something kept me up all night..” The doctor glances at Asra with pink staining his cheeks and a cute smirk.

Asra smiles wide, proudly he glances back over to his friend, cheekily placing his finger to his chest. “Tee-hee…. I’m ‘something’.”

Jokingly disgusted, she pushes Asra making him nearly fall over. “EWWW! Grosssssss! You two are terrible!” She laughs.

“Oh… like you and Muriel aren’t disgusting too??”

“I am not responding to that!” She loudly announces as she walks up the stairs, her face turning slightly pink herself. “I’m making some tea, don’t leave just yet Ilya!”

“Ohhhh, well ahhh.. alrighty then! If I… ahh….. If I must.” Julian happily replies as he helps Asra back to his feet. Promptly the white-haired magician presses his lips on his collar bone.

While the teapot starts to heat up, Rhemi realizes that she really didn’t have time to go to the palace or have someone deliver a message for her father. Staring at the spigot and it gives her an idea and is a good reason to flex her magical muscles. Grabbing a large bowl, she fills it with water and closes her eyes. Using all her concentration, she reaches out, searching for her father’s magic. Finally, she feels that strange metallic aura and she opens she can see her reflection being replaced with her father’s.

“Père!” She calls out.

Confused, Martin looks away towards what she could only assume was the door. “..... Miela?” He mutters.

“Good morning, Père~” She sweetly giggles. Something about surprising another magician always made her a little giddy.

Her father turns his head once again, his eyes scanning the room. “I… I hear you Pigeon, but…. Where are you??”

“Down here!” She instructs. “In the water!”

Turning desperately left and right, he shakes his head. “The… water?” Finally he locates her and he stares in astonishment. “Ahhhhh…?”

Beatrix’s hissing and Bartholomew’s voice could be heard in the background. “.... Monsieur, vous allez bien?”

“Oh… yes. Um…. Why don’t you be a good lad and step outside, Bartholmew.”

“....Ahhh…. Oui, Monsieur.” His butler replies soundly utterly confused. "I will leave you alone with your...ah.... tea... then."

Calmly, Martin looks into his tea cup. “... Rhemielia, my child. What are you doing in my tea?”

“Kinda neat isn’t it? Asra taught me this one a while back.”

With a straight face, he slowly blinks, seemingly unimpressed. “.... Hmmmm…. Very… Charming, I suppose… I won’t recommend it in Charlès though. This is how you’d get a bad reputation for being a witch.”

“Oh….” The excitement and glee once again stomped out. But… I kinda am a witch. Awkwardly, she clears her throat, brushing off his words. “Well, ah….anyways, I contacted you this way to ask you something.”

“Oh?”

“I have to do something today next to the palace. Are you busy this afternoon around three o’clock?”

“Hmm… No… I don’t believe I am.” He says while pondering hard and tapping the tea cup.

“Well, how about you meet me there. I think you’d really enjoy it.”

A genuine soft smile takes over the Archimagister’s lips and he takes a seat on a chair. “... I always enjoy being with you, my little pigeon.”

Rhemi grins happily when he says that. He had a habit of making her feel bad sometimes, but he also could make her feel glad that he’s in her life again. Her heart flutters with excitement. She quickly gives him the address, before she could make a little small talk, the tea kettle starts to whistle and the two say their goodbyes for now.

The day went on like it did every Monday. The shop was pretty busy in the late morning and the afternoon. Mostly it was regulars getting their positions, and other things they needed before the rest of the week went on. But for Rhemi the day just dragged on. Today was the last fitting of her wedding dress. Surely, he wouldn’t be so set on her going to Charlès if he saw her in it. The dress was beautiful a-line with a button-up bodice in the back, with illusion sleeves covered in beautiful lace and organza material.

After what felt like an eternity, the time came for her fitting. Before she leaves, she pops her head into the reading room where Asra was looking at his cards by himself. It’s odd, it felt like she could hear the King of Pentacles whispering to him.

As she went for the door, she ran her fingers over the chest feeling Athena’s magic somehow felt so comforting to her. She always had a strong aura. A strange clunk comes from behind her. She glances back to inspect what had made the noise, but the chiming of the clock deters her. Whatever it is, it can wait.

_______________________________

As she reaches the tailor’s shop, she notices her father making his way down the street. His nose was buried into the piece of paper with the address on. Again, no Beatrix. It’s old how empty his shoulders looked without her.

“Père!” Rhemi calls out, waving to him.

Ungluing his eyes from his paper as she calls his name, he grins and waves back.

“How are you today?” His daughter asks sweetly.

“Very good thank you.” He replies looking at his pocket watch. As soon as he picks up his head, he reads the sign, Seamless: Pierre’s Clothing. “Oh…. You do realize I have a tailor already, correct?”

She can't help but chuckle at his unamusement as she opens the door. “I know that. This one is mine... Well, actually it's Nadia's, I'm just borrowing him.”

Martin’s eyes narrow as he enters the shop. The windows are full of outlandish and extravagant dresses and suits, but in the Vesuvian style. The old magician just sneers in revolt. “Ohhh?... Pardon me, my sweet, but I am confused...”

“I’m about to try my wedding dress on.” Martin’s body stiffens like a board and he flutters his eyes in disbelief. Rhemi could feel her cheeks heating up and feeling pressure on her chest. “And….. I uh… I wanted you to be here for my final fitting… Get you more involved… I want you to be apart of my life and--”

“—Sorry." He interrupts placing both of his hands on his cane, sticking his nose up in revolt. "Please don't tell me you were serious when you said you are going to marry that seven foot tall brute—?”

“—Muriel, Père…” Rhemi quickly interjects in disbelief. She could feel her left eyelid twitch from the stress. She just couldn’t believe him. This shit again?? Right here?? RIGHT NOW? Calmly, she folds her hands together trying to keep her patients. “.... My fiance's name is Muriel. It means 'bright' in Rune…. And yes. I am marrying him. He’s kind and genuine and trustworthy and gentle and makes me feel safe and…. And I love him.... He's my soul mate.”

Martin’s icy glare somehow gets colder and she shakes his head and scoffs. “... Hmmmm… love... What good has it ever done...”

“... What do you mean by that?... You said you fell in love with Mum.”

His nostrils flare in frustration. “.... Rhemielia. My child. All I’m trying to say is that you barely know this man. How long have you met him? A year or so ago?”

“Well…. yes… but how long did you know Mum before you married her?”

As soon as he opens his mouth wider about to argue back, Pierre walks in with a cheerful smile. “Ah! Rhemi! So good to see you!! Are you ready to see your lovely gown?”

Martin pats Rhemi’s head and she cringes to herself yet again. “We’ll speak of this later—no need to make a scene, do we now?” He says leaning into her ear and whispering. “In the meantime, go ahead. Go on and play dress up like you used to when you were a child.”

Her eyelid twitches even more as she strains to keep a fake smile on her lips. “I not playing dress—”

“Rhemi!!!!” Suddenly Agrippa and Portia burst through the door with happy smiles, excited for the final fitting. As soon as they both notice Sir Martin, their smiles dwindle slightly, but they still keep their cheery demeanor for the occasion.

For once, Rhemi was happy to change the subject, pretending that her father didn’t say what he did. “Ippa! Pasha!”

“I am sooooo excited!!!”

“Me too! Pierre is ready and— Wait… Where’s Julian?”

“Oh! I’m sorry, Rem. He had an emergency at the clinic…” Portia says finally letting her smile fall.

“That kid from the orphanage….. What's his naaaammmme—?”

“Zachary?”

Agrippa snaps their fingers agreeing with their partner. “Yeah! He broke his arm today.”

“Holy crap!! Not Zack! Is he okay??”

“Oh yeah! He’s getting loads of attention and is making jokes as we speak! Those kids are resilient, he’ll be just fine!”

“As long as he stops climbing tall shit that is.”

“….Well that stinks that Julian can’t be here, but he can help that!... I’m happy you both could make it though!”

Suddenly, Sir Martin clears his throat to interrupt their conversation looking at his pocket watch and tapping it. “Excuse me ladies and….. Sir???”

Agrippa blankly stares at him with a small growing smile. “.... Which one do you think it is?”

Martin stares back trying not look so confused as he really was. But instead of answering, he just clears his throat once more, tucking his pocket watch back into his vest and looking the other way. “... Not all of us have all day to dawdle.”

Taking the hint, the four of them follow Pierre to the back and make their way to the back. Excited, Portia and Rhemi head to the back changing room. Pierre gives them the gown in order for the maid of honor to know how to help with the dress the day of the wedding (bustles and all).

It fits like a glove. Ecstatic and hopelessly excited, Rhemi nearly skips out of the back to show off her beloved dress.

Portia and Agrippa both hold back their tears as she twirls around happily. “Oh, little bean!!” Agrippa mutters sniffling hard.

Rhemi spins around, clapping her face and her eyes start to water up as well and she smiles stupidly. “Ohhhhhh, you two stop!!! You both said you wouldn’t cry!”

“I know, I know! But you are just so….. So—” Portia says, whipping a tear away.

“—Tch. Please…. don’t lie to her.” Martin grumbles his left hand pitching the bridge of his nose.

Portia and Agrippa stare at the Archmagister in utter shock. “Umm... Excuse me?” Portia asks with her brow furrowed. “What exactly do you mean?”

“Well, that dress is all wrong, of course.” He huffs irritatedly, uncrossing his legs and standing to his feet.

Rhemi’s heart starts to sink into her chest. “What’s…. what’s wrong with it?” She asks, looking down and lifting up some of the skirt with her hands, unable to see the defects.

“That dress makes you look like a dirty commoner, Pigeon…. It looks more like a used napkin than a gown, don't you think? And what a dreadful color.”

“But… But I…. I am a commoner. A-and… I don’t like whi-…..” The words die in her throat as her attention diverts to the back of the room.

Somehow a person who came out of nowhere is standing directly behind her father in the back—But it isn’t a customer…. Her sick crimson eyes staring at her with a desperate looking expression. Why is she here?? Am… Am I going insane? As soon as Rhemi closes her eyes again, she vanishes, but it still frightens her.

“...Wh-white..” She finally finishes muttering, still staring in the back where the figure once stood.

It was…. Herself. The ghost of her former self that keeps popping up in her dreams. The same person in her reflection the other day. Her sick bloodshot eyes, yellow tainted skin and the stench of cremated ashes. Clearly, no one else can see her, or smell the terrible scent of death.

Quickly, she’s snapped back to reality as soon as her fathers speaks again and she looks back down at her gown. “....Please…” He scoffs, pitching the bridge of his nose. “...It looks like a rag—and for gods’ sake—Why is it blush?? Virgins are supposed to wear white—“

“——Okaaaaaay! Rhemi let's get you out of your beautiful dress so the poor tailor can finish the hem, okay?” Portia quickly and skillfully interrupts, smacking her hands together with a large fake grin. She nearly pushes Rhemi to the back room to change out of it.

Portia grumbles under head breath, helping her get back into the changing room. “What the fuck is that guy’s—” Words fail her as soon as she notices her friend’s tears in her eyes and the sorrow filled look in her face. “Oh… no, Rem!” Hastily, she hands her a tissue before her makeup runs.

“It just…. So much is happening….. And…. He- ...He thinks it ….lo- looks bad….” Rhemi sniffles, trying to keep the tears from falling, her nose and lips starting to crinkle back. “Is-is it really that bad??”

Portia is quick to embrace her upset friend and hug her tightly. “No, no, no…. He’s wrong, Rem. You look gorgeous! He doesn’t know the hell he’s talking about! I mean, the guy wears an ugly ass cape for god sakes! If anything he’s a walking fashion nightmare! All he’s missing is the stupid puffy pants and a fourteen foot stick up is ass!” Slowly, she pulls away and wipes the tears from her friend's eyes comfortingly. “Please don’t cry, Rhemi. You really do look amazing. Agrippa, Pierre, Nadia, and I would have told you if it didn’t!... Please, don’t let this jerk make you think otherwise.”

“I don’t think he was trying to be a jerk… he was just telling me how he felt… I mean… I asked him what he thought after all…. and….. h-his opinion is v-valid.”

Portia flutters her eyes and shakes her head baffled. Rhemi is usually a pretty good judge of character, yet anytime anyone says anything bad about the Archmagister, she denies it, or makes excuses. “Rhemi….. Why do you keep defending this guy?! All he’s done is been rude and disregards everyone’s feelings.”

Rhemi stifles and quickly wipes her nose with a handkerchief, refusing to look Portia in the eye. “.... H-... He’s my father.”

“Yeah! One that you just mee—” Portia suddenly stops herself, pressing her lips tightly together and slightly shakes her head. Perhaps now isn’t the time. Rhemi isn’t seeing this man for what he is. Thoughtfully she starts to speak again. “...Look… all I’m saying is that no matter who this person is to you, no one should make you cry and make you feel like shit in your wedding dress.”

Rhemi fiddles with her fingers, not very convinced. “B… But what if he’s right?”

The Devorak sister takes a large breath, pushing down the urge to go back and knock the wind out of that plum haired asshole. But as calmly as she could she takes both of her friend’s hands and asks, “Rem. Sweetie. Do you love this dress?”

Sheepishly her friend replies, “... Y-... yes….”

“Does it make you feel all happy and warm inside when you put it on?”

“Uh- huh….”

“Do you feel amazing when you’re in it??”

“Y-... yeah…I do....”

“Then forget what he said! It makes you feel amazing… You cried your beautiful eyes out when you first got into it because you said you felt so amazing. You loved it! You still love it! This is your dress. Please don’t let that man take that away from you.”

Silence takes over the room as Rhemi ponders her friend’s words for a moment and she sniffles. The most concerning thing was seeing her sick past self staring at her from across the room. She’s never seen her outside of the dream realm till now… Perhaps it was her that Rhemi heard the other day in the palace and who she saw in the mirror this morning. Who else could it be??

Portia sighs and loops her arm through Rhemi’s. “Come on. Let’s get ya out so Pierre can finish up, ok?” Rhemi follows her, but doesn’t pick up her eyes, still totally lost in thoughts. In a last attempt, Portia leans her head on her shoulder. “... You really look amazing, Rem.”

Silently Rhemi nods with a fake half grin, finally picking up her gaze to meet her friend. “Thanks, Portia… I’m really glad you are here.” She says placing her head on top of her’s.

“...Haha.. You’re lucky my brother wasn’t here—”

“—Oh gods yeah! He probably would have decked him in the face.”

“Hell! You’re lucky I didn’t!”

“Thank you, Pasha.” Rhemi mutters as stops in her tracks so she could embrace her friend.

“What are maids of honor for?” Portia whispers back, kindly embracing her back.

“Please don’t tell Muri about this….”

“.... I… I promise.”

Eventually, the two get the dress off without disturbing any of the pins on the bottom. The apprentice makes sure her eyes aren’t red in the dressing room before she walks out to meet her father again. The tension in the room was so tangible, so intoxicating.

Portia and Agrippa watched from the tailor door as Rhemi and her father walked towards the palace.

The silence was absolutely dreadful on the way to the palace. Luckily, it was within a short distance and this night would be over with. Rhemi never felt so conflicted before. Everything was so overwhelming lately. All she wanted was for her father to be happy for her. But everything she did seemed to blow up in her face.

As they reach the palace, her father finally realizes that she wasn’t walking towards the shop. “Well…. This is you.” She announces, rather happy to be done with him for the day.

“Oh…” He says a bit bewildered. “.... But I thought I was walking you home.”

“No no no. The palace is right around the corner from Pierre’s. It doesn’t make any sense going all the way across town.”

“Please. I don’t mind.”

“No, Père. It’s fine. I’ll be fine. I’ll see you tomorrow, okay??” Turning away from him never felt better. She hated to admit it, but he was just exhausting to be around. And after today, she had just enough of it all. “Good night.” She says just turning her so he could hear her.

With a knowing sigh, he places his cane hard into the cobblestone with a clank. “...Is it what I said about the dress.. Isn’t it?” She stops in her tracks but doesn’t look behind her… Maybe he’s going to apologize? “... Rhemielia, dear. Believe me when I say that you are making a huge mistake.” Her fists clenched so hard it almost hurts, her hopes crushed once again. Nope. Of course he wasn’t going to apologize. “... I am telling you that there are better men in Charlès that would put you into the finest of wedding gow—”

“—Have a nice night, Père…” Rhemi mutters trying to hold back the tears. “I’ll... I’ll see you later.”

As Rhemi makes her way down the street and disappears into the crowd. Martin can’t help but remember that night when he lost her. All he could do was just sit there and watch as she was swept away by that dreadful witch. Just like his other dream with the young woman whose neck was snapped. He felt so powerless of movement in these moments.

As he stood there, for one of the first times in years, Martin felt a pull on his chest. A feeling like he might have done something wrong tonight. He hadn’t felt like this since… Well… Since Rhemi’s birthday nearly fifteen years ago now.

He never meant to hurt her. She just… needed to learn a lesson…

“She’ll be fine.” He mutters to himself, shaking off this feeling of regret. “... One day she’ll thank me.”

On the way home, Rhemi made sure she got rid of all her tears before she came back home with Muriel for the night. It's a good thing people usually leave you alone when you're crying. If Muriel notices, she’ll just say that they were good tears from the fitting. All happy tears. Nothing bad happened. It’s all good!… But he knows they’re not.

————Rowdy Raven————

SKKKKIIIIIRRRRT!!!!

“—THAT BASTARD SAID WHAT ABOUT HER DRESS??” Julian shouts standing up from the table in dismay.

The tavern is busy like it usually is. Agrippa, Portia, Julian, and Asra decided to have a drink after today. It was only Monday, but it felt like everyday was an eternity since Sir Martin came into port. Portia had just finished telling her brother and his partner about what had happened at the tailors, and of course they were enraged.

Asra just yanks him back down to his chair. “Shhhh!! Ilya! Would you please calm down! Believe me, I’m just as pissed as you are!”

“If I only had my cricket bat….” Agrippa says, fantasizing while staring at the wall, sipping on their ale. “Fucking asshole…” They say as Portia holds their hand with a sweet reassuring smile.

“Did he really make her cry??” Asra asks soberly.

Portia nods sadly. “It was absolutely heartbreaking. I’ve never seen her look so frustrated and hurt before! But don’t tell Muriel! I promised her I wouldn’t.”

“Why did you tell us then?”

“She only said, Muriel.” She shrugs. “...It’ll just make the poor guy more stressed out anyways. He’s under a lot of pressure as well. This is his wedding too.”

Asra's stomach tied in knots at the thought of his best friend crying. “What the hell is this guy’s problem???”

“You should have heard what he said before she tried on the dress.” Agrippa mumbles before taking a large swing of their ale again.

“What did he say??” Julian and Asra ask at the same time, leaning closer into the table.

“It was something along the lines that he ‘couldn’t believe that she was serious about marrying that ‘seven foot tall brute’... I heard them talking before we opened the door.”

Asra's nose crinkles in and his top half of his lip curls into a snarl. “And what did she say??”

“Oh! She was quick to defend him, and she almost looked angry. But at the same time…. afraid? I dunno—but it's like her father doesn’t realize that Rhemi is her own person now…. She’s not that child that was taken from him years ago.”

“.... Do you think he still sees her as a little kid?”

Portia shrugs, staring at a stain on the wooden table. “.... Maybe?... I feel like he sees her more of something that was his property… Not really another person with feelings.”

Julian slams his fists on the table, “THAT’S. IT!” making everything rattle and clank, nearly spilling a few drinks. He snaches his goblet, jumping to a stand and chugging down the last of his Salty bitters, then throws his glass down to the ground, smashing it into a hundred pieces. “—IMMA KILL ‘EM!”

“Ilya! Sit your drunk ass down and shut up!! You’re not killing anyone!” Portia scolds. “WE four, collectively…. however might just—”

“Pasha!” Asra laughs, tugging his drunken partner back down to his chair again. “That’s a bit extreme don’t you think?? How about we just talk to Rhemi about it.”

“That man is completely toxic.” Julian mumbles, taking Asra’s drink from his hands. “... *Hiccup*....Have you…. Have you noticed that Rhemi isn’t as bright as she normally is?” Julian mutters, sipping the last bit of Asra’s salty bitters since he threw down his own cup.

“.... I have…. and something about all of this bothers me.” Asra says leaning into the table with his arms folded. “....I feel like her father is killing her spirit…. I wonder if he’s always been like this….. And if that's true… it makes me wonder…” he pauses for a movement then shakes his head. “N… Nevermind.”

“What?” Agrippa, Portia, and Julian ask in unison.

“.... *Sigh*.... I might be going too far if I say this.”

“Well now you have to tell us.” Agrippa says with a straight face about to knock back the last bit of ale.

“.... I don’t know…… Sometimes I wonder if she and her mother were really….. ‘Kidnapped’.”

The table suddenly became so eerily quiet, as if they all were thinking the same thing.

✨To be continued…

Sorry for the long wait my trash pandas. But I really needed this break from writing. And I'm really glad I took it. I am so happy with myself right now. I know its still not by best work, but I at least don't hate it. This chapter was supposed a bit longer, but I decided not to shoot myself in the foot this time and just split it.