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Mystical Saga-The Beginning
39. Agonizing reminiscence

39. Agonizing reminiscence

A/N

This story is unedited so apologies for grammatical and spelling errors if any.

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Fiora (POV)

After bidding our farewells to Samragi and the others, we went to Miss Ziwa's place. Being the Beta, the second most important part of the hierarchy, one might expect her home to reflect her high status. However, her house was quite the opposite. It was a feminine oasis, a stark contrast to her formidable personality.

The walls were adorned with pearly crystals that shimmered in the soft light. One of the most striking decorations was a crescent moon-shaped arrangement of irregular aquamarine crystals. At the centre of this crescent was a circular reflective mirror, surrounded by a mosaic of smaller reflective mirrors, all meticulously arranged to form the shape of a moonflower. The effect was mesmerizing.

"Your home is enchanting. It feels like stepping into another realm," I complimented, admiring the ethereal ambience.

"I'm delighted you think so, Luna," she replied with a graceful bow.

Zack, ever impatient, cut straight to the point. "What did you discover?"

I slapped him lightly on the arm, giving him a pointed look. "At least say hello first."

Miss Ziwa chuckled, clearly amused by our dynamic. "Don't worry, Luna," she said with a smile. "I'm used to his behaviour. Truthfully, He fell on his head as a child and lost his sense of respect for elders."

Zack's eyes narrowed in mock irritation. "And you were born with your brain in your knee," he retorted, clearly less amused than we were.

Miss Ziwa and I exchanged a look of shared amusement before she continued, her tone more serious. "Despite his lack of decorum, Zack's urgency is justified," she acknowledged, then turned to Zack. "Our Delta is on his way."

"Where is he?" Zack inquired.

"En route," she replied.

She turned back to me and said, "Until then, let's sit. It's your first time visiting my home. What can I offer you?"

"Nothing. No need for formalities," I insisted.

"Alright, let me at least get you some water," she said, disappearing into one of the rooms.

While Zack engrossed himself with his phone, I explored her elegant living room. The walls were adorned with numerous photographs of her younger self, often accompanied by what I assumed were her parents.

"Zack," I called out, "why are there no pictures of Miss Ziwa with her parents as an adult?"

Zack joined me, examining the photographs with a hint of nostalgia. "Because they perished in the same accident as my parents," he replied softly.

"What actually happened?" I asked, my curiosity piqued.

"I'd rather not discuss it," he answered curtly.

Just as he finished, Miss Ziwa emerged from the room she had disappeared into. "Pourquoi?" she asked gently, yet probing. "Is it something to be ashamed of?"

"I'm not ashamed. I just don't want to revisit those painful memories," Zack replied, his voice tinged with sorrow.

"But I would like to," Miss Ziwa asserted firmly, as Zack settled back on the couch. She turned to me. "Luna, would you like to hear about it?"

"Only if Zack is comfortable," I responded, casting a concerned glance at him.

"Don't worry about him," Miss Ziwa reassured me. "Once I start, he'll join in himself."

I looked at Zack with concern but nodded, driven by my curiosity

"Zack had a friend, a true 'bosom buddy,' if you will," Miss Ziwa began, her voice tinged wistfully. "He was an exceptionally skilled master of various art forms—literature, painting, and combat. My father used to train Zack, Loban, and me together every day. For a twenty-four-year-old, he was fairly handsome and extremely soft-spoken not, on the training ground though. We were all training for the competition that would decide the next crowned ruler," she continued.

Miss Ziwa paused, her gaze distant as she recalled the past. "This ceremony is a week-long event, held to determine who will be the next ruler of the shapeshifters. It's a massive occasion as shapeshifters gather from all around the world. The King and Queen organize a series of tasks, designed to test the candidates' fitness for the role."

I noticed Zack stiffen slightly at the mention of the ceremony, his eyes clouded with memories. Miss Ziwa continued, her voice now carrying a hint of sadness. "At the end of this ceremony, there is a final, crucial section where all shapeshifters, cast their votes among the two finalists. This vote is sacred and cannot be altered, unlike the other sections that can be modified according to the era and the King's will."

"The day arrived for which we had practised so hard. The tasks were intense, and gruelling, designed to push each participant to their physical, spiritual, and mental limits. But Zack and Loban excelled in every challenge, their bond evident as they supported each other through each trial."

Her eyes met mine, and I could see the weight of history in her expression. "It was during the last round of the ceremony that everything changed. Loban was a remarkable contender, but fate had other plans. He lost to Zack in the people's choice. He was devastated, and so were we. We all thought, including the King, that Loban might win and be crowned next in the lineage. But the people's choice couldn't be altered."

Miss Ziwa sighed deeply, the sound carrying the weight of old wounds. "After that, Loban disappeared without a trace. It was a blow to us all, but especially to Zack. Their bond had been so strong, and his sudden absence left a void that was impossible to fill."

She looked at Zack, who was staring at the floor, lost in thought. "Months later, Loban returned. We were all overjoyed. Zack was ecstatic—he even fought with him, hugged him, and cried," Miss Ziwa said with a bittersweet smile. "Such a baby," she teased gently, her eyes softening.

Zack's cheeks reddened, and he quickly looked away, clearly embarrassed. Miss Ziwa's expression turned sombre, a shadow passing over her features. "Zack, out of friendship, sympathy, or perhaps guilt..."

Zack cut her off, his voice raw with emotion. "He was my friend since I didn't know how to tie my shoelaces. He was more than a friend—he was a brother to me. This wasn't about friendship, sympathy, or compensation. I trusted him," Zack said, his voice breaking, eyes glistening with unshed tears.

I stepped forward, intending to comfort him, but he gently pushed me back, unable to meet my gaze. Miss Ziwa continued her tone grave. "With whatever reasoning, Zack took Loban to a secret chamber designed for emergency evacuations. This information is only shared after passing the crown test. Zack's decision led to our downfall."

"Three nights later, while we celebrated Loban's return, an attack from rogues was launched against us," she said, her voice trembling slightly. "And guess who led them?"

My eyes widened in shock. "Loban," I whispered, barely able to comprehend the betrayal.

Miss Ziwa nodded, her expression pained. "Yes, from the same secret chamber. They blocked all escape routes. We were unprepared, and they quickly overwhelmed us. Our soldiers, the King and Queen, my parents, and even our Delta—Ethan—fought valiantly. In the midst of the chaos, my father linked to me, begging me to get Zack to safety. When I found him, he was frozen, cradling his mother's head in his lap, staring blankly as if he couldn't believe the nightmare unfolding around him."

The room fell silent, the gravity of her words sinking in. The past hung heavy in the air, a painful reminder of betrayal and loss.

"I remember the confusion, the panic," Miss Ziwa continued, her voice barely above a whisper. "The rogues were relentless. Our defences crumbled under their assault. My father and mother fought bravely, but there were too many of them. I barely managed to get Zack out of there, dragging him through secret passages. His eyes were empty, lost."

Zack's face tightened, the memories tormenting him. "I trusted him," he repeated, his voice barely audible. "I thought he was my brother."

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Miss Ziwa placed a gentle hand on Zack's shoulder, her touch both comforting and solemn. "We all trusted him, Zack. We all did. But his betrayal doesn't define you. Your strength and your courage do."

Zack's eyes glistened with a mixture of pain and resolve. "After Zack killed him that same night, everything changed," Miss Ziwa continued, her voice trembling with the weight of the past. "Zack was thrust into the throne at the tender age of sixteen, a burden far too heavy for someone so young. And I was compelled to step into the role of Beta, a position I was unprepared for."

Her gaze softened as she reflected on those harrowing times. "Without the unwavering support of our Ethan our delta, and the steadfast assistance of Mr. and Mrs. Black, we might not have survived. Their strength and loyalty became our anchor amidst the storm."

She glanced at Zack, who was now visibly affected, his jaw clenched with a mix of grief and determination. "The years have been long and fraught with challenges, but we've persevered. And now, as we face this new crisis, we must remember that the past, no matter how painful, shapes us but does not define us."

Her words resonated with a deep, comforting truth. The scars of betrayal and loss were woven into their shared history, but they were also symbols of their remarkable resilience and strength.

The quiet was punctuated by a soft cough. We all turned our attention to find Mr. Ethan standing in the doorway, a solemn box in his hands.

"When did you arrive?" Miss Ziwa asked, her voice a mix of surprise and curiosity.

"Just as Loban returned," Mr. Ethan replied, his tone measured and composed.

"Why didn't you announce yourself?" Miss Ziwa inquired, a hint of frustration creeping into her voice.

"The atmosphere was not conducive to interruptions," Mr Ethan answered with a calm demeanour, his eyes scanning the room with a practised neutrality.

Miss Ziwa's nod was curt, signalling her acceptance of his explanation. The room fell into an uneasy silence once more.

Zack, standing slightly apart, was a picture of inner turmoil. The emotional weight he carried was evident in the tight lines around his eyes and the rigid set of his shoulders. It was clear that the conversation had stirred up a maelstrom of feelings he was struggling to contain.

To break the ice, I asked, "What have you brought, Mr. Ethan?"

"Oh, Arnica was cooking focaccia, so I thought you all might like some," he replied with a warm smile, lifting a box into view.

"Focaccia?" I echoed, my excitement bubbling up like a child's upon hearing about a treat. "With what?"

"Shakshuka and roasted vegetable soup," Mr Ethan answered, a hint of pride in his voice as he mentioned the mouth-watering dishes.

"Shakshuka?" Miss Ziwa's eyes lit up with delight, and she couldn't hide her enthusiasm. Mr. Ethan nodded, confirming her excitement. Without a moment's hesitation, she hurried into the room she had disappeared into earlier, emerging with a collection of cutlery for everyone.

"Let's eat!" she exclaimed, setting the table with the finesse of a seasoned host.

Miss Ziwa and I eagerly opened the pack, our excitement overshadowing any thoughts of proper manners. The aroma of freshly baked focaccia and the rich, savoury scent of shakshuka filled the room, creating a comforting atmosphere. The sight of the golden-brown bread and vibrant shakshuka made my stomach growl with anticipation.

"This smells divine," I said, my mouth watering as I served myself a generous portion.

As we started to dig in, Mr. Ethan placed a comforting hand on Zack's shoulder. "Don't eat it all," he teased gently, his eyes twinkling with warmth, "leave some for us as well."

Zack managed a small smile, the corners of his mouth twitching upward. Slowly but surely, he began to mingle with us, eating and enjoying himself. As the meal progressed, the warmth and camaraderie in the room seemed to work their magic. Gradually, the tension melted away from Zack's face, and his expression became more relaxed, more like his usual self.

He took another bite, savouring the flavours, and then looked up with a twinkle in his eye. "Female Delta should cook for us more often," he said, his voice carrying a lightness that hadn't been there before. "This is delicious—from the aroma to the complex flavours she created. It's truly praise-worthy."

"I told you she's a good cook. You were the one denying it," Mr. Ethan replied with a satisfied smile.

"I apologize," Zack said, raising his hands in a gesture of surrender, accepting his defeat.

After finishing our meal, we gathered around the central table, the atmosphere heavy with anticipation.

"So, what's the new information?" Zack finally asked, his tone turning serious.

Miss Ziwa took a deep breath, her expression grave. "Our murder victims were far from innocent. They all sexually molested human females."

A heavy silence descended upon the room as we absorbed her words. She continued, "Not only that, but they also abused their power to harass their female subordinates."

"Why was this not reported to me?" Zack demanded, irritation clear in his voice.

Miss Ziwa sighed. "Those female subordinates didn't report it out of fear of losing their jobs. Among them were single mothers who couldn't afford to be unemployed. The ones who were molested came from poor backgrounds and were handsomely compensated to keep quiet."

"They should have been protected, not compensated," Zack said, raking his hair in frustration.

"So, can we conclude that the murders are happening because of this? We just need to find the person responsible," Mr. Ethan said, trying to piece everything together.

"We kind of have an idea who's behind this," I interjected, my voice hesitant.

"Who?" Miss Ziwa asked, her curiosity piqued.

"Ahem..." I scratched my neck, feeling the weight of their stares. "A century-old vengeful spirit," I said, watching their reactions closely.

"What? Who?" Miss Ziwa asked, her confusion evident.

"She's right, Ziwa. It's a long story," Zack said, frustration evident in his voice as the pieces began to fall into place. "This spirit, she's been wronged in ways that resonate with what's happening now. Her desire for justice turned her into the Ebon Flux. She was sealed away but managed to free herself, and now she's targeting those who have committed similar atrocities."

Miss Ziwa's eyes widened in understanding. "So, you're saying she's driven by a need for vengeance?"

"Yes, but let me be clear," Zack added, his tone grave. "We're just assuming she could be the one responsible. We aren't certain about it yet."

"How do we confirm it?" Mr. Ethan asked, his voice tinged with urgency.

"Amba and her people will try to communicate with her and see if they can find a solution," Zack explained.

"When?" Ziwa asked, leaning forward.

"Well, they were extremely tired after trying to figure out a solution, so we asked them to take a short break," Zack replied.

"And you didn't think this information was relevant to tell us?" Mr. Ethan asked, his anger barely contained.

"Like I said, we weren't sure about it," Zack responded in an authoritative tone, trying to maintain control over the escalating tension.

Sensing the room becoming a fireball of emotions, I decided to intervene. "Also, I could become your potential queen."

They all glanced at me with bored expressions, clearly ignoring my attempt at lightening the mood. I screamed in mock anger, "What? Is this not news to you all?"

"Why do you think, we call you, Luna?" Miss Ziwa asked, raising an eyebrow.

I gave her an exaggerated expression of innocence. "I don't know," I said, hoping to ease the tension.

"Focus Luna, We have a bigger problem to deal with," Mr Ethan said,

"Sorry!" I said, feeling a pang of sadness. If I were to put it into words, I expected more of a reaction from them. I didn't know why, but their indifference made me feel unexpectedly bad. As they began to discuss the details of the information they had collected, I felt a growing sense of suffocation.

"Excuse me," I murmured, slipping outside. The air was cool and refreshing, a stark contrast to the oppressive atmosphere inside. A small garden was outside, teeming with a rich variety of flora. I wandered around, letting the vibrant colours and delicate scents calm my racing thoughts.

I stopped at a patch of black moon flowers, their dark petals shimmering under the soft light. I didn't know much about them, but I knew they were scarce. There were three of them, standing tall and proud. I shouldn't have plucked one, but I couldn't resist. The allure was too strong. I gently plucked one of the flowers and started walking back inside, the delicate bloom clutched in my hand.

My destination was clear: Zack. But as I took a step forward, I felt a sudden pull, as if I were being drawn into a vortex. The world around me blurred, and in an instant, I found myself standing in a familiar cave—the same cave that had the sword embedded in the stone. All around me were black moonflowers, their dark petals glowing softly. Fear gripped me.

"Fiora," a voice called my name, and I turned towards it. "Glamma!" I breathed a sigh of relief and rushed to hug her. "What are you doing here?" she asked, her voice filled with concern.

"I don't know," I replied, my voice trembling. "I plucked this flower from my friend's garden, and suddenly, I was transported here." I showed her the flower, nearly in tears. She took it from my hand, examining it closely as she rotated it gently in her hands.

"What is it, Glamma?" I asked, my curiosity mingling with fear.

She smiled warmly at me. "Your earth element is getting stronger, my dear. These flora and fauna are trying to connect with you."

"So, why did they bring me here?" My curiosity deepened.

"Did you need someone to talk to?" she asked, her eyes searching mine.

I shook my head. "No, I was with my friends. I agree, I was a little upset, but I wasn't alone."

"The earth doesn't work on logic; it works on emotions," she explained gently. "I wished I had someone to talk to, maybe they brought you here for me."

"What happened? Are you in trouble? And why are you in this cave?" I asked, my worry evident.

"I have nowhere else to go, and everything is fine. I just felt lonely," she assured me. "Let me take you to a waterfall. It's a bit claustrophobic here." I nodded in agreement, feeling the weight of the cave pressing down on me.

Glamma packed a few fruits and some flowers, then waved her hand to create a vortex. We stepped through it and arrived at a beautiful waterfall. The sight was breathtaking. I felt a sense of peace as I chirped around cheerfully, enjoying the serene environment. The cool air, the sound of rustling trees, and the chirping of birds made me forget all my worries for a moment. I wished this moment could last forever.

"I don't want to go back to the world's cacophonic sounds," I said, my voice wistful.

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A/N

Word count:- 3000

Hello, my lovely readers, I hope you all are doing well

Here, is the 39th chapter of my book

I hope you all liked it and have a great day ahead

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bye:)

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Date:- 24/07/2024