"Of course I do," Elara answered almost instantly. "Why are you asking? Have accidents been befalling you, Asuriel?"
Asuriel blinked in confusion, "…How did you know? I could have been asking for a bunch of other reasons."
"Mother's intuition. I told you last month that the stars aren't aligned in our favor! You've witnessed it and have been experiencing dangerous situations," the older woman affirmed aloud. "Burn the incense I sent you, child; I know you haven't done it. It will help you."
Asuriel sighed and ran a hand through her mess of curly black hair. Elara had always quickly caught onto Asuriel's bluffs.
"Did you hear me? Burn the incense," Elara repeated after a prolonged silence, bringing Asuriel back from her thoughts. "If you had listened to me when I first sent it, these things wouldn't have happened to you."
"Mom…" Asuriel groaned. "The incense makes me dizzy and nauseous; I dislike burning it."
"Would you rather be a little dizzy for half an hour or potentially be the victim of a freak accident?" her mother answered sharply but softened her tone before continuing. "It's for your safety, my love. I'm not asking you to do it just for fun."
"…Alright," Asuriel agreed. "I'll do it right now while you're on the phone so I don't forget."
"Good girl."
With her mother's company, Asuriel went into her closet to pull out the box of incense she had received in the mail. She reluctantly opened it, and a thick herbal scent permeated the air, nearly making her gag.
"Oh, mom, it's so awful," Asuriel said. "I can hardly breathe."
"I know," Elara agreed, much to Asuriel's surprise. "I'm sorry; if I could have made them smell better, I would have. The herbs used in its creation are hard to come by, and diluting them with other components is unwise. It may reduce the efficacy."
Asuriel filled her incense burner with ash and looked in the box. "Should I burn just one like last time?"
"No, burn one purple and one red stick together," Elara explained. "It's a stronger ward that way. The situation is worse since you haven't been using them like I told you."
"Alright," the girl agreed. As instructed, she lit one of each color and let them burn briefly before blowing them out. She crinkled her nose with distaste and waved them a few times to spread the smoke, then gingerly placed them into the burner.
Clinking sounds, presumably the sounds of cooking, came through Asuriel's phone speaker. Elara hummed quietly and asked, "Did you do it?"
"Yeah," Asuriel said, falling backward onto the couch. She closed her eyes and listened to the sounds of stirring and pouring. "What are you making?"
"Fettuccine alfredo with shrimp," Elara answered smugly. "One of your favorites."
"Did you call just to torment me?" Asuriel's mouth started to water just thinking about it. "Now, I'm starving."
"Nope, tormenting you is just a bonus," the woman answered. "I actually called to ask you to come home for your birthday. I'll make any food you want!"
Asuriel hummed, growing more tired with each passing moment. "I'll do my best. I miss you and your cooking."
"Don't just 'do your best.' You have to come home," Elara implored, her voice slightly desperate. "It's a Draelith family tradition! Your twenty-fifth needs to be spent with your mother."
"Relax," Asuriel said, barely managing to stay awake. "Don't worry, I'll come home. Mom, I'm getting sleepy. I think I'm going to take a nap before work."
Elara was quiet for a brief spell but gave a hum of acknowledgment. "The incense can make you tired, so that's normal. Get some rest and work hard. I'm proud of you."
"Thanks for everything. Love you, Mom."
"I love you, Asuriel."
Click.
Asuriel slipped into a deep and comfortable sleep just as the call ended.
—
The unmistakable metallic scent of blood flooded Asuriel's senses. When she opened her eyes, she found herself standing in what could only be described as a hellscape. A wasteland with black dirt and hills sprawled throughout.
It was barren save for the mountains of bodies that lay at her feet. They were demons, from what she could tell, and despite not recognizing any of them, she felt a deep pain and sense of loss in her chest.
Their faces were either mangled or distorted by a strange mirage-like effect that inoculated their identities.
She tried to look around, but it seemed she was only a spectator in this dream… or nightmare. Asuriel could tell it wasn't her body that she was in; it was the body of a man.
Whoever she was occupying started to walk forward, dragging a massive blade by his side. Its tip left a deep imprint on the ground as he moved.
"My Lord!" a voice called from behind him.
"We've won," said another. "You did it, My Lord. You've led us to victory once again."
Asuriel, or rather the 'Lord' she was in, turned to face the individuals addressing him. Despite directly facing them, Asuriel couldn't make out their facial features; they were once again blocked by the weird visual distortion she had when looking at the deceased demons.
"Yes. We've won."
The Lord's voice was deep and frightening, and despite the words of affirmation, he spoke with nothing but a harrowing hollowness.
It all faded to black.
—
Asuriel blinked awake, shaking off the disorienting dream. "What the hell?"
She sat up and glared at the incense, which seemed to have only burnt out a few minutes prior. Her mother hadn't elaborated on the kind of herbs they were made from, and Asuriel couldn't pinpoint anything familiar in the scent.
"Not only does it make me feel sick, it gives me weird dreams, too," she murmured angrily. Asuriel glanced down at her smartwatch and realized it was nearly time for her to head back to the Lounge.
"Well, I guess this will be a test to see how effective the 'ward' mom was talking about is. If I can go to work and come home again tonight unscathed, I'll never doubt her again," she decided.
Asuriel changed into her nighttime uniform, consisting of a midnight-blue waistcoat with subtle burnished gold rune-like motifs incorporated into the design and high-waisted slacks.
She wore a charcoal-gray button-up with sleeves rolled up to her elbows and fingerless leather gloves to complete the ensemble.
Asuriel stood in front of her mirror and smiled, appreciating the elegant vibe of her uniform. She had worked at the Lounge for a long time but would be forever grateful to have something tasteful to wear.
After working in fast food for a couple of years as a teenager and having boring school uniforms, it was a great privilege to look polished and effortlessly cool while working.
She tied her long hair into a high ponytail with loose fringe to frame her face, as always. Her makeup look was somewhat lackluster compared to what she usually wore during the night shift, but she was short on time and had to make do with a tasteful, natural look.
Asuriel grabbed her things, slipped on her dress shoes, and stepped out the door.
It was time to find out if she would survive another commute.