SHE IS NOT THE ONE
Emma watched as the woman who could be around thirty years of age, approached her steadily.( well, she couldn’t be sure since Zipfarah who seemed to be middle aged, was already a grandmother)
Already she could hear Prescott’s ‘what is the woman up to?’ in her mind. She couldn’t help but reason in the same way too.
With her face scrunched in scrutiny, she drew back on her chair a bit, as the woman came to stand right beside her, staring down at her with dark brown eyes.
“What are you doing?” She shrieked the next second, as she felt the woman’s hand at the helm of her top.
She instantly held down the woman’s hand, before turning to stare at Zipfarah who wasn’t looking at her, but at the woman, her smile gone.
“What are you doing, Shitta?” Zipfarah asked.
“The symbol. The symbol that marks out the prophecy should be etched on her back.” The woman, Shitta, replied.
“And you didn’t think it wise to tell me first, before touching her without her will or my permission?” Zipfara inquired, annoyed at the sheer rudeness of her council. Had they forgotten their place so soon? Was she becoming too lenient?
” I’m sorry, my Queen. I had let my curiosity hold the reins of me. It wouldn’t happen again.” Shitta apologized, freeing Emma’s top immediately. But she still stood beside her.
“It better not.” Zipfarah ordered, making sure that the rest of the elders know that she wouldn’t be taking any form of misconduct again.Content protected by Nôv/el(D)rama.Org.
“Go back to your seat.” She commanded Shitta who hesitated a bit for turning around and walking back to her seat.
“But my Queen …” An elder was saying, when she instantly held up her left hand.
“I know.” She said, before shifting her gaze from the elder to Emma. Of course she knows. She had just been waiting for the right time to broach the topic.
“Emma, we have to confirm if you’re the one. Is that okay by you?” She asked gently, aware that the redhead hadn’t any idea of what was going on, and what would be going on soon. Somehow, she pitied her ignorance. It would have been better if her mother had told her about who she really was.
Sadly, she didn’t even know where her old friend was. They haven’t spoken or seen each other since their pack war seven years ago.
Emma nodded, not trusting the advocacy of her lips.
“Okay, thank you. Is it okay if Lily checks it out?” She asked.
“Yes…” Emma replied, terribly nervous at what the outcome might be. She hadn’t seen her back… well, since forever.
Who stares at their back? She thought, as she felt Lily who had been sitting beside her all this while, lift up her top, up to her chest region.
She held the frontal of the top, so that it wouldn’t rid up and show off her breast. She wasn’t wearing a brassiere. She had washed the one she had worn earlier while bathing.
Her cheeks colored in embarrassment as she felt Daniel’s stare.
Damn him! She thought.
“Uhmm…” Lily stuttered, still holding the hem of the top, creating another bout of thick tension in the room.
“What is it?”
“Is she the one?”
“Say something little one…”
The elders spoke out aloud, obviously curious and nervous too about the outcome.
“She is not the one.” Lily muttered, her voice laced with disappointment, before letting go the top.
***
Derek looked at the painting he had just drawn, and sighed tiredly. He would have laughed boisterously if not for his foul mood. There was no strength or will to even smile.
What was there to smile about? He had lost everything but for his family, whom he was sure to lose if his little witch didn’t come to his birthday party which he knew his mother and his cousin were already running around with other females of the pack to set up. Everything had to be in order. It was possible that members from other packs would be coming.
It was inevitable actually. The party was also supposed to be his coronation party after all.
Only that it might not happen. It might turn out to be a farewell party. He might be banished, especially if the beast rears his ugly head during the party session tonight.
He needed Emma. She was his only hope now.
He sighed again as he stared at the drawing. He had drawn Emma’s happy face, or rather a caricature of that.
He was not good in drawing, had never been.
During his earlier years, when he had been an over ambitious six-year-old, he had tried learning the art from Clem who had seemed to be a wizard in that area, still was, but he had stopped when Maya had left.
He had actually taken interest in it because of her.
He had wanted the artistic branch of her attention, had sought after it, since she had always been smitten by Clem’s drawings.
A soft knock landed on his door, snapping him out of his thoughts.
He almost ignored it but for the voice that called out to him from behind the door, the perpetrator of the knock.
“Derek. It’s me.”
The voice said, and he sighed again, feeling guilty all over again.
Why was she here?
He grunted as he stood up from his squatting position-he had been squatting and drawing on a piece of a large rectangular paper which he had retrived from underneath his bed. He had done so to pass time, not wanting to leave his room till it was time for the party.
Opening the door, he let out a sigh for the third time, as his little sister encircled his thighs with her hands. She was hugging him in her own way, since she was small.
“Happy Birthday Derek.” She said, before disengaging from the mini hug and looking up at him with tear-filled eyes.