Heart Asunder (Dear Dahlia Season 2)

Chapter 21

CONTENT WARNING: Depiction of death and mention of racism

Wadi walked out of the woods. It was quiet. The morning sun shone through the trees.

She wanted to talk to Naima and tell her that she and Rahim were married. At first, Rahim had been worried.
"What if she hurts you?" he'd asked. "I need to be there in case-"
"Rahim, please. It's one conversation. Then we'll leave."
Rahim had sighed, then nodded. Now, Wadi steeled her nerves and approached the house. She'd run through what she was going to say to her mother: that Rahim and her were married, and they'd never come back now that Wadi was out of her reach.

But she never got to say it.

In the distance, Wadi saw Naima falling backwards. She sprinted across the grounds and caught her in her arms.

"Naima?" She asked. "Naima, wake up."
Naima didn't answer. Her eyes were wide open. Wadi shook her, trying to get a response as dread started to creep in. "Naima. Naima."

Still no answer. That was when Wadi heard footsteps. She looked up and saw a flash of black and red of the heartrender kefta as the culprit sprinted away. Wadi's eyes widened, and she looked back at her mother.
"Mama?" she asked, eyes welling up with tears. Rahim approached her now, alarmed, and kneeled down beside her. "Wadi-" he started gently.

Wadi didn't listen. She carefully placed Naima down on the ground and began to pump her hands on her chest, but she had a feeling that something had gone horribly wrong. That feeling only increased when she realised Naima wasn't breathing.

Wadi stared down at her mother. She noticed a flash of purple, and saw the hairclip Rahim had made for her sitting in Naima's hand. She hung her head, and her shoulder shook with sobs.

"MAMA! MAMA!"

The eighteen-year-old's screams echoed across the street. She collapsed into Rahim, who held her tightly.

Rahim's parents came rushing back from the market on hearing the screams. Rahim's mother kneeled beside Wadi and comforted her. His father ran to the mosque to inform the imam. Wadi cried into Rahim's shirt.

Once Naima's body had been carried to the mosque and laid on the table, two alkemi created a cleaning solution and took out handmade soaps. "Would you like to clean her?" one of them asked gently. Wadi nodded silently.

The inferni helped clean Naima's body and hair. She thought of the water brooch that Naima had given her the year before and for the first time, wished she'd been able to summon water instead of fire.

"How old are you?"
"Eighteen," Wadi managed.
"I'm sorry."
Wadi remembered Naima grabbing her wrist, and she felt it faintly throb. "It's okay," she said. Her voice was a bit stronger now.

The second alkemi gave her scented oil. "We rub this on the prayer spots. The parts that touch the prayer mat," the first explained. She was quite tall and her hair was tucked neatly behind her hijab. Wadi adjusted her own before putting the scented oil on her gloves. Then, she placed oil on Naima's forehead, the palms of her hands, her knees and feet. They then wrapped Naima in white sheets and placed her in the coffin.

"Would you like to say anything?" the second alkemi asked.
Wadi wanted to say, 'I'm sorry'. But she held her tongue as memories of how her mother had treated her reared up again. "No," she said softly.
"Alright."

Wadi showered. Then, she dressed and joined the others in the mosque.

Flowers had been placed in front of Naima's coffin. Rahim made his way over to Wadi.
"Some men are trying to come in," Rahim's mother, Adena, said quietly.
"Only men who are part of the family are allowed." Rahim's father, Jamil, approached the men outside the room where the coffin had been placed. Rahim squeezed Wadi's hand. Wadi felt a whirlwind of emotions as she stared at the top of Naima's face, which had been left uncovered by the sheets.

The most confusing thing she felt was love. It felt like a betrayal. After all Naima had put her through, she still loved her?

That question persisted, even when they walked to the Muslim section in the cemetery, past the field of the Sainted's graves and the crosses that accompanied them.

The reciting of Surah Al Fatihah was quick. Wadi watched as all the men were called forward first, as men Naima hadn't even known were allowed to throw in the first bits of earth that would cover her coffin. When Rahim came back, he murmured an apology. Wadi merely took his hand in hers, tears coming to her eyes. Her husband wiped her tears away with a tissue and pressed a kiss to her forehead. Everyone else looked on, shocked, but Wadi was grateful.

"Sisters!" the imam called. "Come forward."

Wadi went first. She took three lumps of earth and carefully placed them in. Isfa placed a hand on her back. Wadi watched her cousin bend down and follow her lead. Slowly, the grave was filled. Rahim took some flowers and gave them to Wadi to lay them on the grave.
"Dahlias," she whispered, tears filling her eyes once more.
"Yes," Rahim replied quietly.

"From Allah we come, and to Allah we return, and to, Insha'Allah, Jannah Alfirdaus," the imam spoke.

At the end of the funeral, when walking back with Isfa, Rahim and the others, Wadi pieced it together.

"That heartrender came looking," Wadi whispered, "because he realised I was grisha. Which means..."
"...she died protecting you," Isfa finished, then added bitterly, "She died because a grisha believed some stupid rumours and tried to drag you away to the Little Palace."
"There were rumours?" Rahim asked quietly.
Isfa nodded. "Heard them once. Some Ravkans were claiming they saw a Suli with fire in her palms." She shook her head. "They always suspect us. I should've realised they were talking about you."
"You weren't to know," Wadi said, but words felt empty. How long ago had Isfa heard this? Why had she not told Wadi and Naima about it?

Wadi shook her head. It didn't matter now. Naima was gone.

That night, Wadi dreamed of Naima grabbing her wrist and her fire flaring so bright that it encompassed everything - even that heartrender murderer and the palace he belonged to, until there was nothing but ash left in her wake.