Alma winced at the afternoon sunlight sneaking into her eyes to shine her awake. She stretched her hands above her head and rubbed the sleep out of her eyes, which were then blocked by the white strands of her hair.
On most days, the matriarch of the Madrigal familia didn't have the energy to get out of bed. Usually, her nietos y bisnietos would come to her room and bring her food, entertain her, tell her about the latest pranks they pulled on each other. She didn't have the energy to ensure the perfection of her family. Not that it mattered. Without their gifts everyone was completely useless. There was no one to heal the injured, no one to shift the river. There was nothing.
Today, however, she was feeling well enough to go sit by the window after her afternoon nap. After slowly lowering her feet to the ground, she took a few patient steps to the window and looked out to her casita. Well, it would be a lie to call it her casita. Her home was alive and beautiful. It was a miracle that was destroyed by herself and her own fears that were pressed into her family. She looked down at the wooden window sill. The candle sat there, now melted down to barely an inch. It hadn't been lit in years, not since the fall of her miracle. She remembered that night, when Pedro gave her the candle, saying it would help them guide the villagers. It would be a light to them. He said. Just as you are to me.
Alma looked down at the village. People smiled and waved to each other. Green hills flourished. Trees and flowers grew. Everything is so nice today... she thought to herself. But why do I feel like this..? She fiddled with the golden ring on her left ring finger, pulling it past the knuckle and slipping it on again. Something deep in her, just past her heart, felt off. It was a warning spreading through her whole body. She looked around the house. No one was at the second level that she could see. She knew that her children and grandchildren and great-grandchildren were all in town, except for Julieta, and perhaps Agustin.
She looked down below her, looking at the blue stairs that led down to the first floor. She looked at the foyer, where her daughter sat crying, hugging her husband and daughter.
Her daughter. Her daughter Mirabel.
Mirabel. Mirabel is here. Mirabel is alive.
How is she alive? She died years ago. Julieta lost her mind. Her sisters grieved. The familia grieved. How is this possible?
Alma walked back to her bed and sat at the corner of it, holding onto the right corner bedpost. She clutched onto the wood, leaving scratch marks from her nails. The anguish. The realization. The guilt. Oh goodness, the guilt. Alma gathered all her strength and sl0wly walked to the door. By the time her hand cradled the oval knob, four whole minutes had passed.
It was time for her to see Mirabel.
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The Lost Miracle
قصص الهواةIt's been 10 years since the fall of Casita. 10 years since the Madrigal Family lost their Encanto, their home, their Miracles. But, unknown to them, one of the miracles remained safe, yet hidden. • • • Encanto AU inspired by @despairful.encounter...
