Second Blood (1)

MOON

Zina had a great suspicion that the second blood would belong to none other than the so-called son of the Alpha King who conspired with the Arising Rogues.

Was it just a false allegation? A terrible set up in a game where she was a mere pawn? Zina could hardly deny the limits of her knowledge. In the Arctic North, she was just as out of place as she had been back at home.

But then, she remembered the second vision she had of Daemon. The one where he was no longer clad in rags but in gold. But where her first vision of him had been confusing, the second one clearly spelt his doom.

"Blood." Zina muttered wearily, acting the role of the mysterious one.

The old woman by her left glanced at the girl furiously, as if trying to chide Zina for interrupting the very interesting drama that was playing.

"I know you're blind, but believe when I say that there is a lot of blood here right now." She chided Zina, her voice fraught with tension.

Zina thought that for someone who was eager to climb a very high rank at a very old age, she was afraid to face the cost of such rising.

"A bloodied room, a throne, and a regal man wearing a golden crown dying. What could it mean?" Zina whispered, still acting mysterious. The middle aged woman by her right tilted her head up, observing the seemingly blind girl with an expression of interest.

The Epsilon's dragged the body of the rogue out, not bothering to clean up the blood. It made no sense to go through such a hassle when more blood could be possibly spilled. Almost at the same time, another man was dragged into the room.

The old woman, eager to prove her worth as the mother of interpreting visions haughtily said, "is the regal man young or old?"

"Young." Zina simply said.

"A throne…" the middle aged woman mused on the words, deep in thought.

"A rebellion." The old woman answered casually as if she had just discovered the cure to the most insignificant disease.

"You're wise indeed." Zina said, tilting her head to the woman in what could have come off as respect.

The old woman shrugged as if she was highly offended she was getting Zina's respect only when she interpreted something painfully insignificant. Zina on the other hand scoffed.

Mother of interpretations? As if. Mother of bluffing nonsense was more fitting.

Even to Zina, the vision was painfully clear. Just like how she saw the Deformed child in the Luna of Savage pack's womb.

The vision showed that Daemon was going to die. But there was a condition; death would only come to him if he took to the throne.

"In the vision, was the blood still flowing?" the middle aged woman asked, her face scrunched in thought. Zina tilted her head in her direction.

"I never said it was a vision, and yes the blood was still flowing."

The woman regarded her with eyes veiled with suspicions, "It is a revertable fate then."

"You're wise indeed." Zina said in the same manner. The old woman regarded them with eyes filled with disgust. Or perhaps she was just offended that her opinion on such a seemingly insignificant matter was grossly ignored.

Daemon watched the exchange from across the Seers with veiled amusement, and curiosity. Yaren glared at him from where he was seated, it would seem as though his half-brother was not happy with his newly acquired form of amusement.

Much to his disappointment, Daemon was forced to pry his eyes from the blind girl to the new subject of his father's infectious rage. And as he expected, it was an Epsilon. And not just any Epsilon but one that was certainly not from the Arctic North if his tanned features were anything to go by.

The play unfurling before him was getting even more interesting. Just the night his uncle sent Epsilons to aid his non-existent rebellion, Moorim had managed to capture one of said Epsilon.

Coincidence? Luck? Or Hard Work? Which was it? The long drawn out play between father and son was finally coming to an end. A play that had been most tiring for twenty-two years of Daemon's existence. Daemon supposed in one way or the other, he had been waiting for that day to come. But he never imagined his head would roll for its fulfilment.

But he had no intention of dying just yet.

"This man," his father who had sat down staggered up, pointing his fingers at the Epsilon, "is Alpha DireWolf's man, and he was caught while trying to rebel!"

Whispers erupted as more than a hundred pairs of eyes shifted from the captured man and rested on Daemon who simply sipped his drink. Was it so wrong that while all eyes were on him, his eyes were on the white woman who had her staff in a death grip. Really, was it so wrong that he was curious to find out her part in the play?

"Daemon, stand up and answer your KING!"

Everyone gasped, as all eyes turned to him. The shield Daemon originally had over his hearing slipped, and the words all whispered filtered through his hearing… threatening to drive him insane.

A son trying to kill his father?

A rebellion?!

He killed his mother, killing his father is certainly not too much of a burden for him.

He has been carefree and nonchalant despite the blood that runs in his veins, I should have known it was all an act.

Like a terrible chant, the words wouldn't stop. And his ears didn't relent on hearing them. Daemon stood, facing his father, the very picture of meekness.

"Father."

"I am not your father, I am your King and your Alpha!"

"Alpha King then," Daemon said carefreely, eliciting gasps of astonishment from the guests at his untoward rudeness.

"You see it, even now he disrespects me!" his father billowed, sending the wares on the table crashing to the floor.

Daemon quirked an eyebrow, finding it hard to rein in the rage that was pent up in him. He watched as his father's claws and fangs formed while he approached Daemon menacingly. His Arctic Wolf was in his eyes, begging for the blood of his son.

"Your Majesty, you simply can't attack him like that without proof. He is afterall the son of the late Luna Queen. Attempting to kill you, conspiring with rogues and attempting to rebel are no small crimes." Alpha BloodMoon tried to reason, and the other alpha's nodded in agreement.

"There is proof." the Alpha King growled, prowling closer to Daemon and circling him like a prey. Daemon simply stared at him, his stance relaxed.

He was fully aware of the extent of his strength, and his simple grey wolf could not do a thing against the almighty Arctic Wolf of the North.

"And what is your proof… Alpha King?" Daemon asked as hatred simmered in his father's eyes.

"Let the Seers come!"

Ahh, finally, the white woman would play her role.