'Something is not right'
Zaba's snow-white fingers tapped on the surface of the wooden desk, the quill in her hand shaking with an unsteady rhythm. Through the nearby window, she watched the gray stone gate of the castle, while stacks of historical manuscripts piled up on the desk. She was searching for any clue that matched the description of the rat, but her focus kept slipping as anxiety grew—Hamim still hadn't returned.
The Furious Night had passed, and the sun rose like a dim lamp over the mountain peaks, as if its rays had forgotten their primary purpose of providing warmth. Zaba could no longer bear the wait. She set the quill aside, stood up, and carefully adjusted her veil, leaving only gray eyes exposed.
Her hurried footsteps echoed through the cold stone hallways, but the biting chill did not affect her, as if it wasn't even there. Everyone she passed greeted her, yet she knew their courtesy was insincere.
Leaving her residence, made her way to a nearby building. Its entrance led directly to a narrow spiral staircase. With each step she ascended, a glowing orb on the wall lit up, then dimmed as soon as she passed, handing its task to the next in line.
Zaba paused for a moment at the door at the top.
'Don't lose your temper. Don't try to make sense of her nonsense. Just get what you need and leave quickly,' she reminded herself. Taking a deep, calming breath, she knocked.
"Knock, knock."
"Enter, child," came the voice of an old woman from inside.
Zaba entered the room, which wasn't exactly a room—it was the rooftop of the building, open to the sky, the ground covered with snow from the previous night. An old woman sat there, her robe indicating a status no less than the Uncle's.
To the side, near the railing, stood towering metal cages, each holding owls of black and white.
Zaba stepped forward with her head slightly bowed. The old woman remained absorbed in a manuscript, a vintage monocle pressed against one eye.
"This child greets the Aunt," Zaba said, removing the face veil.
The Aunt responded with a slight nod and continued reading. Zaba forced herself to wait in silence, yet as the seconds stretched into minutes, her patience wore thin. The woman showed no sign of finishing anytime soon.
"I wanted to ask if there's a chance you forgot to send a word order for my husband's return?" Zaba asked, her voice carefully measured.
The Aunt set the manuscript down, glancing at Zaba with a scornful smile.
"Child, are you suggesting that I might have forgotten, and not that your husband might be ignoring the order?"
"I didn't mean—"
"Or did you mean it?" the Aunt interrupted. "Either way, I sent it, and he did not respond. Anything else?"
'She's too calm,' Zaba thought. 'What's going through her mind? No, this doesn't make sense.'
"Maybe he didn't receive it…"
"Or maybe he did," the Aunt cut in sharply. "That's the least of my concerns."
Zaba failed to hide the scowl that formed.
"What are you doing now?" she asked, trying to keep the tone steady, but a sharp edge slipped into her words. She immediately regretted and almost apologized, but the Aunt's sudden response threw her off.
"I was reading before you walked in, child. Can't you see?" the Aunt said with a cryptic smile.
'A plan… a trap… Is someone setting a trap for the husband?' Zaba's thoughts raced.
"Aunt, he's of superior lineage," Zaba insisted.
"We're all poor souls," the Aunt replied mockingly, turning her gaze back to the manuscript. "Nothing matters, except the Mahdi."
"He is the Mahdi—" Zaba shouted, but her voice was cut off by the Aunt's sharp slap on the desk.
"Your voice, child!" the Aunt scolded, her eyes blazing. Zaba's hands trembled, and she hid them behind her, clasping them together to stop their shaking.
"I—I apologize," she muttered, but neither her voice nor her face showed any true regret.
The Aunt noticed. She studied Zaba for a moment, then shook her head in disappointment.
"Look at yourself. You've let yourself get carried away too far."
"Mother, please…" Zaba suddenly stopped when she saw the glow in the Aunt's eyes intensify. "Aunt, please be honest with me. Is there some kind of trap?"
The Aunt sighed, leaning back in the chair, eyes filled with frustration.
"Trap or not, it seems you won't be convinced, stubborn child." She tapped her finger, and with a loud creak, one of the cage doors opened. A black owl understood and flew out, landing on the desk.
The Aunt pulled a letter from the drawer and tossed it toward Zaba, who caught it and read its contents. The letter was indeed harsh in tone—Hamim couldn't ignore it if he read it. Zaba nodded and was about to return it, but the Aunt gestured for her to keep it.
"Send it yourself so you don't accuse me later."
"I never accused—"
"Keep your words brief, child."
Zaba swallowed the rest of the sentence, then tied the letter to the owl's leg. A transparent bubble formed in her palm, shrinking until it rested on her fingertip. She pushed it toward the owl's forehead, and the bird took off, knowing its destination.
"Did you see something?" Zaba asked sharply. She hadn't missed the fact that the Aunt had already prepared the letter.
"Child, I am not a mirror so that everyone who stands in front of me can find what they want to see," the Aunt replied, focused on her work and unwilling to continue the conversation.
Zaba sighed and turned toward the exit, but Aunt's voice stopped her.
"If he truly is the Mahdi, then worrying is pointless. And if he isn't…then empty your heart of nonsense and prepare it for what it will enter into later."
Zaba spun around, no longer able to hold back her anger.
"Easy for you to say! A person isn't an empty container to be filled and emptied at someone else's will!"
"A person is whatever they choose to be, child. Everything else is just an excuse."
"What excuses? He's my husband!"
"You never completed the rituals."
"..."
A heavy silence filled the space, and for the first time since their conversation began, a hint of emotion crossed the old woman's face—a frown.
"Cat got your tongue, child?" the Aunt said sharply. "Did you do something—"
"I wouldn't dare." Zaba's quick response made the Aunt go completely still.
"Good," the Aunt sighed. "A pure person doesn't touch the filth of others. Don't become filth."
"Just… just for once in your life, say something clear," Zaba took a deep breath, an ominous feeling creeping into her chest. "Is someone working behind the —"
"You don't understand," the Aunt interrupted. "Reading all day won't teach you the things that can't be learned. A trap or bad luck, effort or a stroke of luck—they're all points on tangled lines that cross and separate but always meet in one place: the end. Just as they all started from one place: the beginning."
"Enough of this nonsense!" Zaba shouted, losing control so suddenly that the snow around them lifted into the air.
The Aunt scoffed, and in an instant, Zaba's power faded as if it had never been, and the snow fell back to the ground.
"You're even starting to lose control of yourself. Looks like I need to retrain you from the beginning," the Aunt said firmly.
New training meant stopping her studies—and that was the last thing Zaba wanted.
"I apologize, I lost myself because of the situation…"
"Don't lose yourself. Not now, not ever. Losing yourself means losing your path, and those who lose their path lose everything. Don't forget—you will be the mother."
"One of the mothers," Zaba muttered under her breath.
"In any case. Haven't we already finished discussing these foolish emotions? Leave them to humans." The Aunt's voice grew sharper.
"I wish I were human," Zaba whispered, shifting her gaze to the metal cages. "At least then nothing would be forced on me."
One of the Aunt's eyebrows arched.
"Child, who forced you into anything? Didn't you come on your own, declaring your choice of the son of a slut woman? Did I stop you then?"
"Watch your words! You're talking about my husband!" Zaba snapped.
"You watch your words and remember who you're talking to!" The Aunt's voice echoed through the space, pressing down on Zaba's chest, making it hard to breathe. After a moment, the pressure faded.
Zaba coughed several times before steadying herself.
"Tell me honestly—what do you feel?" the Aunt asked, her eyes narrowing.
"Nothing."
"You wouldn't have come to me then. But whatever you're feeling, it will happen. Ease your mind."
'Why did I come here? I never learn.'
Came seeking comfort, only for the sense of foreboding in her heart to grow.
She turned quickly toward the exit, but before the door shut, the Aunt made sure her last words reached Zaba's ears.
"You want and I want, and God does what He wants."
The Aunt's voice echoed in Zaba's mind, staying with her for the rest of the day. There was nothing left to do but wait.
At that moment, Vio finally reached the last village in the mountain.
[Village discovered]
[Evaluation completed: 12%]
"And now… what's their problem?" Vio muttered, scanning the crowds before him.