The Beginning of The Lie

ZINA

"Besides, I can see that one of them is an Aberrant!"

Zina stiffened as yet again, she was forced to take in condescending stares.

"An Aberrant?" The Alpha King said in a low voice like he was just coming about the information for the first time which only made Zina wish for the ground to open and swallow her whole.

"Indeed she is an Aberrant," the man Moorim spoke with a confidence that said that Zina's lowly status wasn't remotely a problem. "However this Aberrant you see is the very Seer that foresaw Luna Savage's outrageous pregnancy."

The attention on her was renewed with a different vigor. The whispers were lower now, and even if Zina tried to catch up with them, her muddled thoughts did not allow her hearing to function properly.

Much to Zina's horror, it was his voice that broke the elongating silence,

"An Aberrant with such a powerful sight," Daemon all but declared to all in the room, "and two equally powerful Seers by her side. With the water of life here, I am sure the truth would have no choice but to surface."

The way those last words were spoken… no, the heavy dose of sarcasm laden to his last words caused Zina great discomfort. Zina didn't know whether her feelings were true or false, but Daemon's searing gaze at her told her that the prince knew more about the current play unfolding before them than he was letting on.

Did he know about the lie she would tell? If he did, why didn't he swipe at her neck and killed her for good when they encountered at the corridors? Why was she still roaming alive with such guilt and the heavy weight of a lie yet to be told?

"Bring the water of life!" Moorim commanded, and heavy footsteps exited the room. Those same footsteps reentered back shortly, and the weight to their footsteps showed they were carrying something as they came back.

The feminine voice of the Theta spoke in a voice so low that anyone would have mistaken her to be sick,

"We shall now start the Mondem ritual. The full moon is not out, but its crescent shall be just enough."

So it was the crescent moon that night. The same moon that reminded her of the day she was abandoned.

Strong beat of a cultural drum started reverberating to a strong beat that threatened to inspire Zina. Against her wishes, Zina felt the strong urge to twirl and dance even though she was blind. It was like something was gnawing at her heart, causing her blood to pump faster from adrenaline despite the fact that she had all but done nothing to prompt such an outburst of energy.

The Theta's voice morphed from soft to something strong as she muttered strange words that could only be the ancient language of the mountain wolves. Her voice took an otherworldly eeriness to it as she spoke to the beating of the drums.

"You foresaw the birth of a deformed?" The old woman said as if just realising the extent of what it was that Zina had been accused of doing.

Zina said nothing to her as she instead concentrated on the feeling that the atmosphere had put her in. The Mondem ritual was supposed to force a specific vision out of a Theta, or anyone with a spiritual sight from what Zina understood.

And yet, she saw nothing of who intended to poison the king. The only vision that assaulted her senses was instead that of the current young Daemon, sprawled on the floor before his throne, bleeding to his death.

And no matter how much Zina thought of that vision, only one interpretation stood out to her.

Justification was such a terrible thing, but Zina now had one… no matter how hypocritical of her it was. Zina finally had a reason beyond the safety of her pack to tell this lie, but one thing stood in her way….

….the Water of Life.

Did her captors not take it into account? That there was such a huge stumbling block to their plans.

The drums still being sound, the Theta spoke in the common language. "We shall start from the oldest. Come forward!" She beckoned at the old woman, and Zina felt the woman who aimed for the position of the Theta gleefully leave her side.

For the first time in Zina's entire life, she had never found her lack of sight unbearably irritating. She could only rely on her senses to track their movements and interpret what was happening which was quite maddening.

"Drink!"

Zina, with strained hearing, heard the unmistakable sound of the old woman gulping down liquid. 

Like deja-vu, the Alpha King asked the exact same question that her captors had spelt,

"Who shall kill me, and who shall inherit my throne?"

Not a word was missing. The exact same thing that her captors had recited to her the king would ask was the exact same thing that was asked to the woman.

Zina found it terrifying.

The old woman stuttered. Like she wanted to say something but couldn't quite muster the words but couldn't quite find her footing.

Every single ear in the room stretched to hear her, but no words formed in her lips. Next thing, she started gasping loudly like something was clogging to her throat, the act throwing the room into commotion .

She gasped, clawed, struggled, the sounds deeply triggering and signifying an impending death. And after some time, she stopped gasping and only stillness permeated the room.

Together with the stench of death.

"I forgot to say one thing," Moorim's clear voice rang in the room. "The Mondem Ritual brings death to anyone who pretends to be blessed with the sight. The water of life serves to bring such impending death a bit closer."

The middle aged woman besides Zina sucked in a deep breath, while Zina stood like a lost thing, unsure of what path she was taking, and if it was worth it.

Death? Pride? Abandonment? Justification? Those were all excuses that Zina hid behind to cover her generally pathetic self. And somehow, all her armour was falling off one by one revealing her for what she truly was….

….A coward incapable of facing their world.