LAST OF THE IMMINENT BEING (The Being Book 1)

C H A P T E R. 3

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          Quiet.

          So quiet.

          Amina thinks she would've gotten used to the silence in her head, but it is at times, deafening. It's been several months since she last felt the gentle beckoning at the back of her mind, always telling her to be strong and to push through. The voice was kind and nurturing... but after Cyrus...

          It's so quiet.

          It must be early in the morning, maybe the breaking of dawn. Amina is unsure. She doesn't have a clock to track time. She listens to the stirring songs of the waking swallows who nest in the tree behind the shed, their soft cooing soothing her grieved spirit. 

          Despite the ache in her body, Amina forces herself to wake up. It's a new day of the end of the week, and as usual, the roster recycles on Friday. She'll most likely be assigned to the main building - kitchen duty alongside Mrs Ryke, and Mrs Ryke is a strict stickler for time. 

          Her bones whine as she props herself up on her elbows, realising now that she slept on the floor. She doesn't feel very rested, but then again, she's never known what good sleep is.

          Amina dusts herself, a futile act given how much blood and yellow sweat stains have dirtied her clothes, but she still feels the need to look somewhat presentable. She refolds her blankets, stretching out her limbs as she does so, then looks through her makeshift wardrobe - a small chest she salvaged from the local dump.

          She has her domestic clothing folded and pressed in a black plastic bag to keep it from turning stale and dirtying. All her other clothes, few enough to fit in their own separate bag, are hand-me-downs from Lilac. Amina takes good care of them. Not because they are amongst the little things she owns, but because they were given to her personally by Lilac. Those memories, those brief interactions, she treasures them.

          She tidies the shed as much as she can while she changes out of her dress and gets into jeans and an old jersey. She makes sure to pack the dress between the folds of her mattress with the intention of going down to the waterfall later to wash it.

          Amina freshens up to her best extent, using a brush to tie her hair up into a tight bun, before grabbing the metal rod she uses to unhook the latch from the outside. As soon as the door swings open, Amina inhales deeply, wincing at the residual pain in her side, admiring how the slow rising sun looks like a backdrop in a mural. She likes this time the most.

          "Peaceful." She murmurs, putting on her shoes.

          Amina sighs slowly and sadly, a deep-rooted longing lodging a hole in her chest as she stares at the house. Then she begins her trek to the main building in the middle of their reservation.

          Thankfully, the pathway she uses is empty at that time of the morning, so she doesn't have to hide her limp. It helps her to try and build resilience to the lingering pain. The last thing she wants is questions to be asked and there's only so many times she can say she tripped and fell.

          The main building where the Clan conducts most of their business is in the dead centre of the reservation, facing eastward towards the forest bordered by the lake. It's the largest infrastructure throughout the territory, being just over twenty storeys high, and the size of two large football fields put together. It functions like an office park, big enough to fit an entire pack of nearly one thousand people at a time.

          The servant's entrance happens to be along the pathway Amina took every morning, cutting her travel time in half compared to the Zetas who take the morning shuttle. It means she's not only always on time, but that she'd be the first to reach the building, giving her enough time to shower and brush her teeth without drawing too much attention to herself.

         By the time Amina has completely changed into her domestic uniform, the other Zetas begin to trickle in, each checking their name on the new rooster. Few barely acknowledge her presence, let alone greet her if they see or sense her.

          Even though they are considered amongst the lower levels in the hierarchy of succession, the Zetas of Silbre Fall Clan are prideful and arrogant. They are part one of the largest— if not the largest —Clans within the Canidae Tribe, descendants of pure-blooded Zetas. And their Pack housed the Alpha family. They are more Butlers and Caregivers than servants. To be associated with Amina is, in their eyes, an insult, which is why they ignore her most of the time, giving her the harder and dirtier labours that they could've handled.

          Amina can't help but diminish in their presence. She ducks behind a locker set before rushing out, towards the kitchen. The last thing she wants is to be blamed should anything go wrong in their morning routines. If things go missing, or something is misplaced, she will surely get in trouble.

          As soon as she enters the kitchen, Amina is met with a low growl. A thick presence suddenly has her weak in her knees.

          "The Solus?" Mrs Ryke says in deep annoyance. "Of all the perfectly capable Zetas they could've offered, it had to be the Solus."

          Amina bows her head and sticks out her neck in submission. Mrs Ryke holds her dominance over her a little longer before turning away in a huff. She tosses Amina an apron and mutely assigns her to prepare the batter for pancakes. Immediately, Amina gets to work.

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         While the Zetas gather for their morning breakfast, Amina scrubs the kitchen floor. The pack has already been fed so all that's left to do is clean.

          The dishes are plenty, but there are several Zetas who handle the chore, so there is less work. When they finish, the kitchen floor is a mess. Of course they can't clean it, they need to eat the food Mrs Ryke has prepared for them, so Mrs Ryke tells Amina to stay behind on their behalf.

          By the time she's done, breakfast is over and the second quarter of the rooster begins. She doesn't get to eat, but it isn't something new to her, and she already feels full from the leftovers Mavis had brought her.

          "Solus?" The old woman calls for her.

          "Yes, Mrs Ryke?" Amina gets up from the floor and cautiously looks at her.

          "You will be working on the fifteenth floor going up. Edna and Roween have already been assigned basic housekeeping, so you will clean each floor on your own," She says. "And don't look so sullen, its not that much work. Honestly, how lazy can you be?"

          Amina's eyes widen at Mrs Ryke, before lowering them and nodding once, immediately heading to the servant's lift. Her face doesn't mean to reveal any emotions, she tries to keep in the sudden sadness at her added labour... has Mrs Ryke sensed it? Amina shudders in fear. What if she tells him later that she had a look of disapproval? He'll punish her for losing face. Amina swallows her worry, hoping that her body language won't show anything other than obedience.

          The other Zetas haven't returned yet, even though their break is over. They're slow and leisurely in their movements, knowing full well someone will pick up the slack—that someone is always Amina. She'd rather start now than have Edna and Roween pick a fight with her for leaving them with a lot of work. The last time this happened, she was punished with kneeling on salt grains for three hours.

          Amina decides to work from floor twenty, knowing that the twentieth floor in the East wing is usually empty at that time. She schedules herself fifteen minutes to each room, office and cubicle, so that hopefully by the time lunch needs to be prepared, she's ready and working in the kitchen.

          Amina pushes out the cleaning trolley in front of her, pausing to hear for any movements before getting to work. By the time she finishes the eighteenth floor, Edna and Roween, as well as several other girls on housekeeping, join her. She tries not to pay much attention them, but Amina is hyper aware of the looks she's getting. She quickly finishes the office she's doing so she can move down to the next floor.

          As she hurries away, she doesn't notice the foot obscuring her path. Amina stumbles then falls, landing on her face. She can hear some of the girls snicker amongst themselves as she gets up.

          "I'm sorry." Amina says, her voice so soft it's barely a whisper.

          "You should've told us what floor you're starting on," Roween says, her lips curling in disgust as she pushes her back down. "You made us look incompetent in front of Gamma Mason."

          Amina must have a look of confusion in her eyes because Enda sneers at her. "He asked us why there was only one of us cleaning. He thought we were shucking off our responsibilities—you made us look f*****g lazy."

          Amina whimpers as she quickly gets onto her knees. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I should've—"

          "I don't even know why a mutt like you works with us." Roween says.

          With that, the Zeta women leave, having done nothing and leaving Amina with all the workload. She watches their retreating backs, and once she's sure they have boarded the elevator, she rises to her feet. 

          Amina can't respond, believing they are right. Her existence is an insult to the Zetas who treat servitude as a king would treat a crown: with the utmost respect and privilege. And she's just a sore in their eyes - a hindrance to their perfection. Amina is nothing... she feels like nothing. She thinks to herself that the least she can do is decrease their labour, even if it means she does most of the work. She's okay with it. Because then I have a purpose.

          She blinks several times as her chest swallows itself. Amina then buries those feelings deep inside, deep behind the thick curtain that hides many things, and gets back to cleaning. It's nearing rush hour and she doesn't want to be late.

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