Marvela Mystic | ✔️

Chapter 2 ✨ A Midnight Dreary

The slender witch's green gaze settled on Marvela, who peered out from behind the cauldron. Marvela shivered, paralyzed. Something in those narrowed, green orbs left her feeling like she was facing off against a snake she had stumbled across in the grass.

Asra tapped a fingernail to her chin in thought, a coy smile spreading across her unblemished face. "And is that your little familiar I spy hiding behind Mother's old cauldron?"

Marvela hissed at the green-eyed witch.

"Simply adorable," Asra said, chuckling. "Though I've never been much of a cat person myself—"

"Why are you here, Asra?" Sable interjected, folding her arms in front of her.

Asra held a hand up to her mouth with a tiny gasp. She seemed to be trying to appear hurt at her sister's words, but the way her eyes still gleamed said otherwise. "What do you mean?" Asra asked. "Can't I simply pay my younger sister a visit after all these long years?"

"You know, I've sent letters to you, Asra," Sable said. "Letters that you've never responded to. I've tried to make peace with you for decades. Ever since the last time we saw each other..."

That light in Asra's eyes dimmed at Sable's words. "Yes..." she uttered, falling into the chair by the fireplace as if all her strength had been sucked from her. Her crow croaked and flapped over to her lap. The green-eyed witch ran her fingers through those inky-black feathers, lost in thought. "The last time we saw each other..."

Asra blinked.

And the light returned to her eyes once more. She straightened up in her plush throne. Fire was in her eyes and venom in her voice as she spoke. "The last time we saw each other was through a wall of flames while I was tied to a stake in that little town of Vigilance. Right before I called to the spirit, Slight, to save me many centuries ago." She snarled at her sister, who recoiled at her tone. "Because you didn't."

"You know I tried, sister," Sable said, her voice cracking and her posture falling. "But I have always told you, Asra, that a spirit's favor always comes at a cost. The spirits are not to be trifled with—"

"If you're weak, maybe," Asra snapped, making Marvela and Branwenn flinch. Asra smoothed down her crow's ruffled feathers apologetically. "But, oh, there are benefits," she purred. Her eyes flicked up to meet Sable's. "The years clearly haven't been kind to you, my younger sister."

The kitten watched the two humans stare at each other. Centuries of unspoken history passed between them in the form of Sable's icy glare and Asra's fiery sneer.

But eventually, Sable dropped her gaze to the floor.

Marvela's tiny stomach sank with a flutter.

"No matter," Sable's sister hummed, rising to her feet. She stared out the window at the blind eye of the moon. "You asked me why I'm here, didn't you? I'm here because I have a debt to pay. Since we've parted ways many, many years ago, eight times I have been burned by the ones who lack magic, and eight times I have asked Slight to bring me back."

Asra turned back to her sister. The moonlight was a stark white halo behind her. "As you said, a spirit's favor always comes at a cost. Slight is coming to collect, Sable," she hissed. "In three nights to be precise. On the night of the full moon, he shall rise from the Spirit Realm. And he shall take me back to forever serve him."

Sable's seething expression cooled ever so slightly. Some unspoken emotion—regret? remorse?—made her eyes glassy. "I'm so sorry, Asra. If only you had led a different path—"

"Oh, I won't be going with him at all, dear sister," the green-eyed witch explained, chuckling. Her eyes glowed like a cat's in the dark. Her crow was smiling again. "I have a plan."