Then Suddenly, It All Made Sense

Mozrael went to take a bath at Lynnor's suggestion, leaving Aramith at the dining table alone with Lynnor. There were four empty bottles and three glasses on the table. He never thought of her as the type to drink.

How could she drink all these in that short time?

She poured herself a drink. "You look like hell, kid," she repeated

"And you look drunk." The smell irritated his nose. 

"Come on, sit. Want a drink? I promise it's not poisoned, just good booze. Want a glass or a whole bottle?" She asked as she poured two glasses

Aramith didn't answer.

"You don't want one? Heh, s'pose I'll have all the good stuff to myself then."

She gulped it all down in one gulp, then realizing Aramith wasn't going to take the other glass, she downed it too.

Aramith just eyed her carefully, noticing how far gone she was. Even after five bottles, she could still talk straight—mostly. But her grip on the glass wavered, just slightly, and her smirk held a looseness it hadn't before.

She could still talk well, but her drunkenness would work in his favor, she wouldn't be able to lie so easily in that state.

"Just sit," She pointed her bottle at a chair. He sat down opposite her, in the same position Jade had sat earlier.

"I know you want answers, but I'm wasted right now, so give me a few minutes to clear my mind."

Aramith nodded and stayed in silence, waiting for her to finally start talking.

Mozrael finished her bath and was about to change when she noticed herself in the mirror.

Her slight frame was a testament to her youth, her body still in the midst of transformation. She carried herself with a quiet uncertainty, as though caught between the child she once was and the woman she was becoming. There was a delicate balance to her presence—neither fully confident nor entirely unsure.

Her figure was unassuming, much like the rest of her, yet her expressive eyes spoke volumes, revealing a depth of thought and a heart burdened by worries far beyond her years. Despite her youthful appearance, there was a gravity to her demeanor, a quiet strength that refused to fade even in the face of her shyness.

In truth, Mozrael didn't seem to concern herself much with her own looks, nor did she notice the occasional glance she drew from others. To her, there were more pressing matters—protecting those she loved and making sense of the shifting world around her. She tried hard to hide all her thoughts, to be serious. 

But even with all that control, her mind suddenly wandered to what Lynnor had said earlier. She felt the heat in her face as blood rushed to her cheeks. But she was still a girl after all. Thinking about her appearance would come to her at one time or another.

She groaned softly, shaking her head. No, this wasn't the time to be thinking about something so… pointless. The way Lynnor spoke about her...Do they all see me the same way?  She whimpered in embarrassment, hiding her face in her palms. 

Even as she wore her clothes, her mind kept wandering about, and she couldn't help but wonder if there was something she was forgetting. Ignoring that, she thought of Aramith and Lynnor downstairs. Was she supposed to be there as well, or stay behind? What Lynnor was sharing with Aramith connected with her as well, but she couldn't help but fear she might learn something she wasn't supposed to know, and that scared her.

She hesitated, then found herself drifting toward the door. Her bare feet made no sound as she stepped outside, the cool floor grounding her. One step. Then another. She stopped at the top of the stairs, pressing her back against the wall, holding her breath as voices reached her ears.

"Ahh! My mind's back from... from Cloud 9! Took a lil' detour there hehe"

Lynnor took a slow sip before leaning forward, her tone shifting to something colder, though she still had that unseriousness about her. "I guess it's time you knew."

Aramith looked at her.

"You think you're the only one who needs to know the truth?" Lynnor muttered, taking another sip. "Funny. People tend to learn things when they really want to."

She smiled, but quickly hid it as she glanced at the stairs. "Perfect," she said under her breath.

Mozrael pressed herself tighter against the wall, heart hammering. Had Lynnor just… glanced at the stairs?

"Okay, I'll tell you what I know. Don't ask any questions till I'm done." She took another sip. 

Aramith wanted to tell her to stop drinking but he couldn't bring himself to.

Lynnor took another sip, watching Aramith with mild amusement. He really had no clue. How focused could one kid be? She glanced at the stairs again, just barely, then hid her smirk behind the rim of her glass.

She sighed dramatically, swirling the liquid in her cup. "You think your kingdom is perfect, don't you?" 

Aramith frowned. "What are you—"

"The truth, kid? Jade's family didn't just 'fall apart' one day. You live in the best parts, right? The most visually appealing part of your kingdom, but that is just a mask. Everywhere you go, there will always be people in need- People who find it difficult to make ends meet. Sadly enough, Jade lived in such a place. And yes, she's from the same kingdom you're from."

She paused, eyeing him carefully. "The good thing was...her father wasn't a poor man. He was well-to-do, had more than enough money to live by, and he was a generous idiot too. Wouldn't stop helping the foolish poor ones there."

"You shouldn't be-"

Bam! She slammed her glass on the table. "So...several years ago, some bandits- well most of the people living there were bandits. They attacked their home."

Aramith felt a flame burning within him. Lynnor found his reaction amusing. 

Like he can change something after it has happened. Childish. 

"Her home was raided, all the valuables stolen. Most of the criminals were people he'd helped before, but they didn't give a shit when greed consumed them. They killed her father, right in front of the poor girl. You can imagine the fear and hurt a little girl would feel as she watched her father being mutilated and killed. She almost went mad, but that was what helped her."

She paused and got up.

"We're not done yet," Aramith stood up.

"I know, I know. Just lemme grab another bottle." She staggered forward as she pulled a bottle from a drawer and then came back to sit.

Once again, Aramith felt like telling her to stop, but he couldn't bring himself to.

"Okay, so where were we? Her father got tortured and mutilated in front of her, so she ran out, screaming for help. The chaos got the attention of some soldiers. I remember thirty-three in total. Those pigs went to the house and you know what's worse?" She tapped a finger against the table. "She called for help. Begged for it. But your 'perfect kingdom' didn't lift a damn finger to save her."

A cold chill ran through Aramith's spine.

"What...?"

Lynnor took another sip before continuing. "I was there, you know. I wasn't supposed to be there, but I was there —Lucky coincidence. They just stood there, watching as everything burned. Watching as she cried. Laughing as they called her father an idiot. It was no lie though, that man was stupid to give meat to wolves and expect good from it."

Aramith's hands clenched into fists.

Lynnor exhaled, tilting her head back. "It disgusted me. So I killed them. All thirty."

Silence.

She leaned in, staring directly into his eyes. "Your kingdom isn't as perfect as you think, kid. And remember who rules it."

Aramith said nothing. He couldn't.

Because for the first time in his life, he had doubts.

"So why are we here then? There were people there and according to them, I killed thirty soldiers. That was all they said. A house was on fire and the soldiers couldn't do anything, so I killed them for doing the impossible, abusing my power. Now, I'm banished from that kingdom."

"But why didn't you explain it all to them? I'm sure my father would listen to you."

Lynnor laughed. "Were you even listening? Don't be stupid, I know what I'm saying. I was stripped of my position and cast away because I disobeyed orders. Maybe you don't understand, but doing that is equivalent to me having the potential to attack the king. 

I

Am

A

Threat.

Makes sense now?"

"But still..." Aramith couldn't believe this. "...father couldn't do that."

"Keep dreaming, kid. No one's perfect. But well, your father wasn't the one who made the decision. No need to hate him. Just know that things aren't so beautiful in your home. It's quite shitty if I'll be honest with you." Lynnor glanced upstairs again, quickly averting her eyes before Aramith could notice anything.

Mozrael's expression was dark as she left the place to the room given to her. Her breath was shallow. Her fingers curled, nails digging in. She wanted to move, to run—but she couldn't. The truth wasn't just painful. It was unbearable. Her mind betrayed her, forcing her to imagine—what if it had been her? What if she had been the one watching helplessly as the people she loved were torn away?

Mozrael's breath hitched, sharp, and uneven. She pressed a hand to her mouth as if that could stop the sob rising in her throat. Her chest tightened, shaking with every shallow inhale, every broken exhale. No, no, she couldn't cry. She wouldn't.

But the images wouldn't leave her mind—Jade, small and helpless, screaming for help that never came. A father bleeding out while his daughter watched, powerless. Mozrael's fingers curled into her arms, gripping tight as if holding herself together.

Her vision blurred, and a single tear slipped down her cheek, then another. She heard footsteps, then a muffled Lynnor singing, and finally a door slamming shut. Knowing the truth hurt harder than she expected, and she was more than regretting her decision to eavesdrop. 

 Aramith still sat at the table, unable to move. His teeth and fists were clenched.

It all made sense now, but not in the way he expected. This was terrible.