Zephyra Point of View

"You caused all my bad luck?" He gasped loudly and exclaimed a little dramatically.

It's too difficult!

It has been too difficult for me these days.

I nodded my head with a sigh and looked at him with hints of responsibility and pride sparkling in my eyes.

"You really did this to me? To your own husband? To the father of our soon-to-come child? You, for good few weeks, have been the person behind the bad luck I was facing?" Yiyaa! How come my grrrgal seems to become a lot more theatrical than in the past?

"Yes. Mom said it is better I do it myself."

He stared at me in confusion for a moment, "What do you mean by that? Mom knows about it? Mom encouraged you to give me a bowl of bad luck every day? Are you people out of your mind?" Grrrgal, who has always been short tempered, started to yell in anxiety.

Oh dear stars!
He was doing theatrics.
And here I thought I was the dramatic one in the relationship.

I gave him a tired nod, my sigh long and deep enough to qualify as a monsoon breeze. "Yes."

His eyes widened. His jaw dropped. He stood up like the bed was on fire and took two long, exaggerated steps away from me. "Yes? That's it? No explanation? No remorse? Just yes, like you accidentally stepped on my foot, not rearranged my karma with a bad luck smoothie!"

I resisted the urge to rub my temples.
It was too difficult.

It has been too difficult these days.

"Listen, grrrgal," I began carefully, patting the bed next to me, "You're making this sound a lot more evil than it is. I didn't do it because I hate you. I did it because I love you."

His expression said, I've heard some wild things in my life, but this one is going to need subtitles and a pie chart.

"You LOVE me... so you turned me into a magnet for every glass of water, public humiliation, and falling elevator panel in the city?! What next, a piano dropping from the sky?"

I clicked my tongue and narrowed my eyes. "Don't give the universe ideas."

He groaned and flopped onto the armchair; face buried in his hands. "Why? Just—why?!"

I sighed and sat on the bed, patting the spot next to me like I was inviting him into a courtroom where I was both judge and public defender. "Sit. Let me explain."

"I don't want to sit—" he began, but still sat.

"Look, I didn't do it for fun. I didn't do it out of spite. And I most definitely didn't do it alone."

He blinked. "Wait. Who else is involved in my downfall? Don't tell me Owen helped. I knew he looked too pleased when my pants fell off."

I rolled my eyes. "Mom."

That shut him up like someone hit the mute button on his soul.

"Your... mother?"

"Of course not, silly. It's our mom, your mother." He definely cheated on his exams and graduated.

"My mother?"

"Yes. Your mother." I nodded, slowly and solemnly, like I was delivering a sermon made of inconvenient truths. "Let me tell you what happened, and don't interrupt me until I'm done. Okay?"

He nodded stiffly, though his eyes screamed 'internal monologue chaos.'

I took a sip of my tea, let the steam rise like a curtain before a performance, then looked at him with what I hoped was a wise, ancient expression.
It was time for the tale.

"Well... it all started three Thursdays ago."
I raised a finger like a fable was about to begin.
"That strange evening when the wind howled like it was gossiping and the tea leaves in my cup shaped themselves into a skull and a middle finger—"

"Can we skip the horror podcast intro and go to the part where you explain what the heck happened?" he interjected, only half-sarcastic.

I ignored him.

I ignored him. Because obviously, he doesn't understand the importance of atmosphere. You don't just rush a tale like this. You let it steep—like drama-flavoured tea.

"So," I said, folding one leg over the other and adjusting my scarf like a fortune-teller at the height of a political scandal, "that evening, someone walked into my counselling room. Not floated, not wandered—walked. Like they had purpose. Like they were dragging shadows behind them."

He narrowed his eyes. "Let me guess. Shadowbane."

I nodded solemnly. "Mr. Shadowbane. With a voice like cold coffee in a glass jar and cheekbones that could cut emotional boundaries. He didn't smile. He didn't blink. He just... evaluated."

"I knew instantly that he was trouble wrapped in a trench coat," I continued. "He looked around at the candles, the charms, the glitter-infused wisdom, and he said: 'I need a solution that doesn't ask questions.'"

Idris blinked. "You didn't kick him out then?"

"Excuse me, I am a professional. Also, your mother was in the back room organizing jars by moon phase."

At this, he tilted his head with disbelief. "My mother was there?"

I nodded. "Yes. Your mother. And she heard everything."

I paused dramatically, sipping my tea with all the suspense of a Netflix cliff-hanger. Then I continued, voice lowered.

"He said there was a rival. Someone smarter, better, more... beloved. Someone whose name echoed louder than his in rooms that mattered."

Idris looked puzzled. "Wait, is that about me? I'm beloved? How did I not know something so big?"

"You're very beloved," I said firmly.

He blinked as if I'm lying to him.

"Anyway," I continued, "he told me he wanted this person to fail. Not suffer. Not perish. Just... slip. Stumble. Falter in public. Lose the shine. Be a little humiliated. Not destroyed—diminished."

Idris was staring now, halfway between horror and awe. "And you said yes? Just like that?"

"Do I look like such an unprofessional wife? Of course, I told him that I need to calculate the fate by using stars and then tell him my decision. I let him wait while I went to the backroom and had a secret discussion with her."

Idris narrowed his eyes. "With my mom?"

"Yes, your mom," I said, adjusting the throw pillow like it helped prove my point. "She was in there organizing jars by weird categories again—this time by vibe. I told her what this man wanted, and she nearly choked on her mint leaves."

"She didn't tell him to buzz off?"

"Nope. And neither did I. Because we had this sudden terrifying realization: if we said no, he'd just go find someone else. Someone... less emotionally stable. Someone who wouldn't just give you bad luck, but like, 'accidentally set your briefcase on fire' kind of bad luck."

Idris tilted his head. "You are saying this was... what? The gentler option?"

"Exactly," I said, hands in the air like I'd just revealed the twist in a cooking show. "I mean, think about it—we knew he didn't recognize me. He thought I was just a charmingly chaotic consultant with an Etsy addiction. And your mom? He didn't even know she was in the backroom."

He blinked. "Okay but you still chose to make my life an obstacle course. You chose to make my pen explode mid-contract signing. You chose to—"

"That wasn't me, actually. That's the nature acting after you are infused with some small bad luck vibes. It's all heavens and nature." I shrugged.

"Also, I keep profession and personal separate. So, I gave him a charm that will cause the person he is targeting to have a series of unlucky events." I said, a little proudly.

He looked at me with narrowed eyes as if he is doubtful about something. "You gave him the charm – you gave him the right charm? How is it possible for you to handout the right amulet? Wouldn't it break you record of giving out the wrong amulets?"

Hey, hey, hey; come on, it only happens every now and then.

"Actually - " I started but was cut off by a muffled curse.

"I knew it. I knew it. Tell me, what charm did you give him exactly?" Grrrgal demanded with googly eyes.

I laughed awkwardly for a second, "It is a bad luck charm."

"But?"

"But it is a mirroring bad luck charm."

"Which means?"

"Which means, if a person with this charm in hand have thoughts of harming someone innocent, then the other person would definitely get a little unlucky but he himself will be the prey to his own vicious thoughts."

"Wait—you gave Mr. Shadowbane a self-sabotaging bad luck charm?"

"Technically, yes," I said, trying not to sound too proud but also kind of failing.

He blinked again, slower this time. "So all this time, I was only mildly unlucky, and he was the one spiraling?"

"Exactly. You got the comedic bloopers. He got the full deleted scenes package with director's commentary."

He stared at me for good ten minutes before calling me a genius reluctantly. "You - are a genius."

"I was called so all my life." I complained shyly.

"Now I would like to know who this Shadowbane exactly is." He pondered with a critical look. "I don't know anyone with this name and obviously it's just an alias name. So, who exactly is this person?"

He fell in deep thoughts. I too fell in deep thoughts, just that, not in the same thoughts as him.

"Ah right, although he looks handsome, his face looks like a camel getting a plastic surgery to become a horse but instead it went wrong and became something that looks like camel but with a flat face." I hope this description helps him to find that Shadowbane.

"Wow, that helps a lot." He exclaimed but somehow, I felt that he did not mean it at all.

Haiya... such clear description should be very easy to get the mental image of the face.

~*~*~*~*~*~

Hello Sweeties,

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Zephyra caused the bad luck? How could she?

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Lady Prim