Over the past three years, I learned to recognize the tell-tale signs that Asra was home from a trip.
Aside from the obvious, the magician had a tendency to leave his possessions in random spots, often hanging his scarf over the nearest crystal ball or chair. And consequently, almost forgetting it before he left, again. Most of the time, it was endearing.
Other days, it was simply a reminder that his presence was temporary, not worth returning something to its proper place. Moving onto the next project before he had even finished the first.
During darker moods, when my thoughts would be tainted with sharp words and pointless accusations, I used to believe that's all I was to him.
An unfinished project, something that held him back.
An unwanted obligation.
Incomplete.
I was used to it, of course.
I was adept at meals for one and sleeping in a bed built for two. Asra almost always left before sunrise, leaving nothing but an indent in the mattress and a heavy heart.
This morning, however, brought a change to our usual routine.
The bed was still warm, a combination of tea and citrus lingering in the air. Slowly blinking, I listened to the world around me, birds chirping outside the open window.
On the windowsill, flowers stretched towards the morning light. Asra must've watered them...I grimaced at the dead leaves around the base of the plant. Maybe I should ask Portia for advice when Asra leaves again.
Muted noises came from downstairs, a familiar voice humming an off-beat tune. Wait, was he...still here? Yawning, I reluctantly left the warmth of the blankets, returning the fallen pillows. Odd.
As I washed my face - Asra left a pitcher on the table with a warmed cloth - I mentally reviewed the previous night's conversation.
While I had been initially hesitant about discussing Julian, especially given Asra's dislike for the doctor, he had insisted on listening.
Whatever's troubling you.
He remained quiet for the story, small reactions occasionally slipping past his mask. Regardless of my intentions, I told him more than I meant to, worn out by the emotional and physical toll of the day.
I skipped the part where we shared a bed. For some reason, I doubted Asra wanted to hear about that.
Afterwards, he was silent.
Asra had stared, deep in thought, into his half-empty mug. His black-tipped thumb ran absentmindedly over the rim. With a sigh, those brilliant violet eyes met mine. "That sounds like Ilya." He called him Ilya? I thought only his family referred to Julian as such...
"He took an entire day to end it?" Asra's fingers tightened around the cup, which groaned in response.
"Essentially." I nodded, draining the remainder of my tea.
Slumping backwards into his seat, Asra fell silent again. "What is it, mas-Asra?" I quickly corrected myself, setting down the cup with a muted clink.
I could only imagine what was going through his mind. Julian, the man he had supposedly cursed, the one he had once been friends with.
I remembered Julian's copy of our key, wondering how close they must've been for Asra to trust him like that.
"Were you two…" Asra refused to look at me, instead watching Faust slowly curl around his arm, "even really together?"
I frowned at darker emotions swirling along the edges of his aura. Frustration? Guilt and...something else. I couldn't place the final color, a sickly shade between green and brown.
Giving up on the lesser mystery, I focused on the question that hung between us. "I...don't know." It was the best answer I could give, an honest one.
Desire and reality didn't always coincide. I've learned that much.
I had thought about the past few days with the charismatic, stubborn ex-plague doctor.
Frustrating as he occasionally was, Julian had always been honest with me, always willing to share the seemingly endless appreciation for life, whether it be a drink from the tavern or the wind passing us by as we ran through the city. Just as quickly as he'd come, changing...well, everything...he was gone.
Ridiculous as it was, I knew I would miss the doctor's enigmatic presence. The world seemed to come alive, bursting with color and music that I hadn't noticed before. The ache returned, so I turned my focus to the magician before me.
A knot had formed between Asra's pale brows, white curls concealing his eyes. "Ilya…" It was unnerving to hear the nickname spoken with such disdain. "The only thing he loves more than drama is his own suffering." His eyes flashed, meeting mine. "And he's determined to chase both."
Despite the physical warmth from the tea, I shivered, smoothing down goosebumps.
After that, whatever darkness that laid in Asra's musings were suppressed, concealed with a smile and the excuse to fetch more tea. I still felt slightly ashamed that I'd simply...let him, too wrapped up in my own selfish worries. The strange moment with Inas wasn't forgotten but instead stored in the back of my mind, alongside the rest of the oddities I'd noticed that didn't quite make sense.
The rest of the night was easier, both of us shifting into more comfortable roles; Asra relayed stories about his latest travels while I quietly listened, making the occasional comment. He had even presented me with a small token from somewhere north, though he appeared strangely reluctant to do so.
After our conversation, however, that murky shade to his aura never completely vanished, simply lingering along the margins.
Returning to the present, I twisted the thin gold band around my middle finger.
Like the rest of my jewelry, the ring fit perfectly. Secretly, I suspected that Asra placed a fitting charm on everything. Or just knew my sizes.
Shrugging off the memory - today would be a good day, I would make sure of it - I stretched my arms above my head, padding downstairs to find the source of the delicious smell.
"Good morning." Asra glanced towards the door to shoot me a smile.
"Morning." I leaned against the doorframe, crossing my arms across my chest, "What're you making?"
With his back turned, hands busy with something, he hummed, "Why don't you take a guess?"
A bit early to be evasive. Frowning at the mental commentary, I moved closer, inhaling deeply.
The morning air was rich with spices, a fine balance between sweet and bitter. The cardamom was easy enough to recognize, though I couldn't tell if it was from the dish or Asra himself. He always smelled like that, a faint smoky scent with hints of fresh citrus and an underlying sweetness.
Julian reminded me of a library, funnily enough. Like parchment and - I took another experimental sniff to distract myself from that particular line of thought, ignoring Asra's amused look.
"Is that saffron?"
His dimples emerged with a silent nod, body shifting to conceal the mysterious creation. Leaning against the opposite counter, I absentmindedly began braiding the knotted waves that hung over my shoulders, pretending that I wasn't trying to peek.
A low noise came from my right, and I glanced down with a smile, "Morning, Faust. Do you know what he's making?"
Her tongue flickered thoughtfully, bright eyes looking up at me from the counter. Favorite.
I grinned, an idea immediately sprouting from the blunt hint. Asra narrowed his eyes at Faust as I tied off the braid, letting its weight settle at my back.
"Khabeesa, huh? It's been awhile since we've had that."
"Aren't you supposed to be my familiar?" Asra sighed, his smile contrasting the despondent tone.
"Nope," I gently scooped up the purple-scaled snake, running a finger across her head, "She prefers me, now. Isn't that right?"
As Faust relished the attention, leaning into the touch with half-lidded eyes, Asra laughed. Shaking his head, he watched us with a fond smile, "I don't blame her. I would do the same thing." The remark was unnerving in its intensity, amethyst eyes lingering on the stray hairs around my face.
Clearing my throat, I carefully placed Faust down, "So, what's the occasion?"
"Occasion?" Asra seemed to return from whatever musings he'd been temporarily lost in, brow furrowing in confusion. I nodded towards the half-made breakfast, a bowl of rosewater and a few other ingredients sitting beside empty bowls.
"We usually only have khabeesa on my birthday."
Celebrate! Faust chimed in behind us, head bobbing happily.
I arched an eyebrow at the magician, "And what are we celebrating?"
It wasn't his or Faust's birthday...right? No, his birthday was only a few months ago.
Before Asra could answer, a small bag on the counter caught my attention.
Ignoring the curious pairs of eyes, I nimbly reached past him to pick up the satchel. Something about it was familiar, just on the tip of my tongue.
Without hesitation, I opened the pouch and was abruptly greeted by a strong, earthy scent. Myrrh.
I heard, more than felt, myself gasp, something slipping from my hands.
Sounds of the marketplace and a low, gruff voice rang in my ears, followed by the haunting rattle of chains. Forest green eyes stared just past my shoulder, broad shoulders blocking out the sunlight..."I remember." I covered my mouth, heart beating wildly against my ribcage, "Asra, I remember!"
I remembered something! By the stars, I recovered a memory, with no headaches or pain!
This was amazing! This was - Asra seemed to pale, hands gripping the half-open satchel.
"You...do?" He croaked, looking less than pleased. In fact, he looked positively nauseous.
My wide smile faltered, shoulders slumping. "Y-Yeah, I remember -" I paused, frowning.
I didn't actually know the man's name. He didn't exactly introduce himself between all the vague warnings and general grumpiness.
Under Asra's strange scrutiny, doubt began to creep in, eliciting a wave of heat to my cheeks. Why was he looking at me like that?
Wasn't this a good thing?
"I, erm, I remember your…" I thought back to the unusual interaction in the market, the large stranger cloaked in chains and cloth, "your friend? He was kinda...broad, I guess. Didn't say much besides that you sent him to check up on me." He was rather skittish for such a large man, and surprisingly adamant about not being friends. Shy?
No, I was used to wary looks from the merchants. His dislike felt...personal.
Biting my lip, I watched Asra quietly deposit the pouch onto the counter, exhaling slowly. Faust curled up and around his shoulder, tongue flickering in an almost soothing manner against his skin. "Asra?"
"The myrrh," His voice was a near whisper when he finally spoke, eyes focusing on the bag in question, "It...helps people remember him."
The corner of his lips curled upwards, ever so slightly, "Guess he didn't really want you to forget."
Frowning, I glanced between the spices and the weary man before me. Remembering only created more questions, not answers.
"Asra," Gently, as if any sudden movement would startle him, I moved close enough to take his hands in mine. Just as we'd done a million times before, usually for reassurement. It seemed...fitting. "What's wrong? Isn't this a good thing?"
Our eyes met, purple meeting green, "Actually, Asra...why did the myrrh only return that memory?"
"Better yet," I continued, "How did I forget? It was barely a week ago -" A chill ran up my spine as my hands instinctively tightened around Asra's limp ones.
"Am I…" Panic reared its ugly head, burying itself deep within my chest, "Am I forgetting more as time goes on?"
Frankly, the thought had never occurred to me before.
Faced with the mere notion, I found it increasingly hard to breathe, fighting against the gradual constriction of my lungs. Would I begin to lose more and more memories until there's nothing and no one - "Cassandra," I hadn't realized Asra had moved until my face was buried in the crook of his neck.
Would I forget him too?
One hand rubbed slow circles against my back, another wrapped comfortingly around my waist. "You're not losing any more memories," Asra murmured in my ear, gentle despite his iron grip, "You're okay, Cass, just take deep breaths. In…"
Obediently, I sucked in a trembling breath, mind racing as I tried to recover from the whirlwind of emotions.
"And out." Asra murmured, hand warm against my bare shoulders, "There you go."
Carefully, he pulled back, amethyst eyes locked onto mine, "See? You're alright." I exhaled again, nodding slowly.
I wasn't sure how much time had passed, but I found myself sitting at the kitchen table, sunlight spilling through the open window.
Asra set steaming bowls in front of us, along with two cups of chamomile. Wrapping my hands around the mug, I nodded, "Thanks." Instead of sitting across from me, I watched him drag his chair to my side.
"So much for my personal record," I wryly commented, eliciting laughter from the magician. "It was almost a full year, too."
I paused, thinking back to the previous week. In particular, the memory of crying against Julian's chest came to mind.
Feeling heat rise to my face, I lifted the cup, "Well, maybe not a year."
By the stars, I was a mess. I had already known as much, but it was still mortifying.
"Healing isn't a linear process." Asra shook his head, a half-hearted smile on his lips, "After...everything, it makes sense that there'd be...triggers."
We fell quiet again, the occasional clink of our spoons against the bowl. Triggers, huh?
I'd never thought of that before. How would I know what and wouldn't be one?
Merely talking about my missing memories didn't automatically elicit panic. After all, I hadn't freaked out like this when I told Julian about my past.
"Thank you." I finally said, setting down my utensil. "For breakfast and, well," I trailed off, gesturing towards myself.
Just because Asra was used to handling my...moments...didn't mean he should be obligated to.
My thoughts betrayed me with the mental image of Julian's expression after I had revealed the truth about myself. It was more than pity in that grey-speckled eye...Recognition. Empathy.
At the time, I hadn't felt scared. Nervous, maybe, but not scared. I wasn't as fearful around Julian, for some strange reason….not that it matters now.
"Think nothing of it." Asra leaned back in his seat, smiling, "After all, the khabeesa was Faust's idea." I raised an eyebrow at the familiar curled around his shoulders.
If I hadn't known her as well as I did, it would've been strange to see the snake shake her head slowly. Asra.
His cheeks darkened, a finger gently pressing against the tip of her snout.
"Okay, so maybe it wasn't." I laughed softly as our eyes met, "I figured it'd be nice to have something familiar after everything. You've been...busy, with running the shop and helping the Countess with her investigation."
"Well, the shop hasn't been open much this week," I mused, running a finger over the painted flowers on my cup.
Given how often I've been out of the neighborhood - whether it be the Palace or somewhere in the South End - it'd be incredibly difficult to keep normal hours.
As if reading my mind, Asra shrugged, "We've got enough to keep us afloat, enough to close now and again."
That much was true. Thanks to Asra's expertise and training, we were able to store up enough savings to keep the shop from going under.
Worst case scenario, of course.
I took another sip of the cooled tea, smiling, "Stole a peek at the books, then?"
Faust lowered her head against his shoulder, eyes fluttering closed. Asra frowned, stroking her brightly colored scales, "You know I trust you, Cass, but I wanted to check -" "It's fine, Asra." I couldn't help but grin at the fidgeting magician, ignoring the weight in my chest.
He trusted me with the shop, but not my memories. Not the truth.
Something in my expression must've been obvious, for he leaned back with a heavy sigh, "So...you probably have some questions."
I was tempted to laugh at the understatement, returning the weary smile.
"Asra," The heat from breakfast had settled pleasantly, warming me from the inside out, "Why did…" How should I word it? "Why did I forget your friend, and only him? Does it...does it have something to do with my missing memories?"
As if in reminder, my heart began to beat harder against my chest. I was about to ask another question - why had he reacted that way to my admission? What had he been so scared of me remembering? - but Asra's demeanor gave me pause.
I pressed my lips together, pouring another cup of tea to keep the endless thoughts from slipping free.
"It's not you. The man you saw…" His dimples re-emerged, "His name is Muriel, a dear friend of mine since childhood."
"He did say that you two knew each other." I studied the various expressions crossing his face, falling quiet to allow him to continue.
They'd known each other since they were kids...That's sweet.
Asra smiled, "Muriel is...under a spell. It makes people forget. People can see and talk to him, but don't remember him when he leaves."
"The myrrh circumvents it, in a sense."
I frowned. I knew of a spell that achieved something similar and didn't require much energy, but for it to be permanent…
At least I wasn't forgetting anything else.
"Does that mean...I've met him before?"
With my returned memories of the brooding man, he almost felt...familiar. Like I had seen him, many times.
It was all too easy to imagine Muriel at the shop or in the marketplace, though the very idea seemed odd. Asra's friend didn't exactly come across as a social butterfly...not that I was one to talk.
Asra hesitated, then nodded, "You have."
It took a moment to recover, my stomach flipping at the seemingly simple confirmation. I was so used to him dancing around the topic.
Smiling wryly, I added, "He didn't seem to like me. Was it because of something I'd done...you know, in the past?"
My heart beat a borderline violent rhythm against my chest as I leaned closer. He might...he might actually answer.
I might actually learn the truth about my memories!
I wasn't sure what brought on Asra's sudden willingness - maybe it was out of pity - but I didn't want to look the gift horse in the mouth.
Asra reached across the table to cover my hand, squeezing it gently. "Of course not, Cassandra. Muriel just…" "Doesn't like people?" I chimed in, returning the smile.
It was more than being anti-social, but I knew that look. If Asra knew the reason, he didn't plan on telling me.
Although it shouldn't have been much of a surprise, the realization soured any amusement from the situation. With a small sigh, I gingerly pulled my hand free to collect the dirty dishes. Asra moved to stop me, protests forming on his lips, but I shook my head.
"I've got it." I shot him a smile, "Least I can do after you made breakfast."
Something flashed across his features, replaced by a smile, "If you insist." Despite our attempt at levity, I was sure that even Faust could feel the shift in the air.
Even with my back turned - washing the dishes with practiced ease - I could feel Asra's wall return, filling the empty space between us.
Guess there's a limit to his honesty...though I was lucky to get as much information as I did.
His expression when I had declared that I remembered lingered in the back of my mind, the clear panic in the tightening of his fists and sudden tension to his shoulders. What did he think I had remembered? It didn't take much to realize that it was likely what kept us apart.
Whatever dark secret lay in my past, in our past...
"So," I cleared my throat, the sound echoing across the quiet room, "when're you leaving?"
I heard, more than saw, Asra shift, the scrape of the chair against wood. Setting down the soapy bowl, I turned my head to raise an eyebrow at the magician.
Asra was already on his feet, wide eyes focused on my figure. Did he really think he was being subtle?
I nodded towards the kitchen door, where his bag was already packed and ready. Turning my attention back to the dishes, I waited for the inevitable response.
"I…" Asra sighed, not moving from his position by the table, "I planned to stay longer, but there's some...unexpected business. I would bring you, but -"
"You're going somewhere I can't follow."
I was glad he couldn't see me rolling my eyes, the weight in my chest returned to its rightful place, "I know, Asra."
I was tempted to call him Master, almost purely out of spite. I grimaced at the very idea, guilt and something slimy coiling in my gut.
Muted footsteps grew closer until the tanned magician stood a few feet away, leaning cautiously against the counter.
I kept my eyes on the dishes, rinsing off the final cup. Those puppy dog eyes were practically burning a hole in my side.
"Really, Asra, I'll be fine."
I shook my head, frowning when the mug was plucked out of my damp hands. "Hey," My mild protests elicited a slight smile as Asra set the cup down, bone dry. He was always impatient when it came to chores, using magic as a shortcut.
Sighing, I turned to face him, arms crossed, "This is about what Inas said last night, isn't it?"
His hand tightened on the counter, but I kept going before he could give me some vague non-answer. "I know you can't tell me," Or won't, a voice oh-so-helpfully added, "but at least spare me the dignity of pretending it's something else."
His shoulders slumped, and he reluctantly nodded. Keeping his eyes on the counter, Asra said, "I'll be back soon, I promise."
Violet eyes met green. "You'll...you'll be alright, right?"
I bit my lip, studying the pain etched across his face. I couldn't tell if he was referring to last night with...with Julian or about the mini-revelation this morning. Maybe both.
"I'll be alright." My lips curled upwards in a hopefully reassuring manner, but I didn't move any closer. Tearing my gaze away, I added, "I'm glad you stayed for breakfast this time."
I still wasn't sure about his motivations behind the khabeesa. Was it the same thing that ushered him out of Vesuvia once more?
Asra returned the gesture, the tension draining from his body, "I'll leave Faust with you again." The smile shifted to something more genuine as he tilted his head in the snake's direction, "I think she'd rather stay with you, anyways."
The forlorn edge of his voice spurred me forwards, moving close enough to nudge his shoulder. "As if I could complete with the connection that you have with Faust. She's been your familiar for what, seven years now?"
Across the room, Faust bobbed her head in confirmation, tongue flickering happily. Friend!
The magician rubbed the back of his neck, chuckling. His hand stilled, eyes widening with a sudden thought.
"That reminds me," He straightened, crossing the room in easy strides.
"What?" Curious, I drifted after him.
Asra was knelt by his bag, seemingly rummaging for something in particular. "This," He stood as I approached, holding it out to me.
"Your deck?" I stared at the familiar cards, glancing up at Asra in surprise, "But you just got them back."
He had been so relieved to have them back in his possession. Why was he returning them to me?
Asra placed the cards in my hands, warm grip lingering, "They said...it's important to stay with you, for now."
"Really?" I frowned. That didn't seem to bode well.
Why wouldn't the cards want to remain with their creator?
Asra shrugged, hands dropping to his sides.
For someone so insistent, the Arcana were strangely quiet. Everyone was being frustratingly vague.
With a huff, I carefully pocketed the deck.
"Well, I'll take care of them for you while you're gone."
"Thank you." Asra sighed, smiling.
The magician left shortly after with a brief hug and the promise to return soon.
"Say hello to Inas for me." I relished Asra's momentary surprise at the comment before he recovered, laughing. "I'll let her know."
Asra paused at the door, hand on the frame. Like he didn't want to leave.
With a final smile, I gestured towards the door, "Go on, I'll be fine here. Herbs to dry, customers to help." A man's innocence to prove.
"Be careful, Cassandra." Was the last thing Asra said, expression torn between concern and affection.
"You too, Asra."
It was easier to ignore the gaping chasm in my chest when he nodded one last time, slipping out the back door. The thud of the thick wood seemed to vibrate through my limbs, the shop suddenly much emptier than it had been before.
Alone, again. Alone, as always...Shaking off the heavy thoughts, I pushed myself off of the doorframe to smile down at the snake waiting in the kitchen.
"Ready, Faust? We've got a busy day ahead of us."
Faust bobbed her head. Help!
"Exactly." I laughed, scooping up the familiar, "Even if he doesn't want help."
A promise is a promise, after all.