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“You’re so fucking stupid.”
Zam’s hands dug into the ceramic, nails trying so hard to tear the sink apart. He was going to hurt himself like this, but what was one more drop in the overflowing bucket? Tears painted rivers down his face, slipping down to his chin and hitting the sink with a tap every time one fell. And still, he tried to make them stop. It only helped to make him choke on sobs, and his face and chest hurt with the effort it took.
“So- so fucking stupid,” he hissed out through gritted teeth. There was something so wrong with him.
His own eyes were staring back at him in the bathroom mirror, glaring at himself and his brilliantly golden crown gleaming in the light, which sat askew on his head. Who would ever be so stupid as to trust Wemmbu of all people? A hiccup tore its way through his body and he just dug his nails deeper into the sides of the sink — he really was going to break it at this point.
Wemmbu was going to betray him. He was, at some point, going to betray the Empire. He was going to betray Zam. Because he would always be Wemmbu, and he would always do what was in his own best interest. He only had to ask himself when, not if.
The words said played over and over in Zam’s head like a broken disc, telling him Wemmbu would betray him the second he got the chance. Did that moment already come? What was he plotting now, behind his back? His eyes flicked away from his own reflection to check behind his back, but only found the hardly decorated wall of his bathroom.
A part of him didn’t want to believe it. It told him to remember the way Wemmbu had laughed with him, protected him, nearly gave his life for him.
“He’s going to destroy your empire, everything you worked so hard for, and he’s going to make you watch. Then he’s going to kill you and you know it.”
He shot his attention back to himself in the mirror. Had he just said that out loud? His eyes flicked all over his own face as he breathed out shakily, hair falling in from underneath the crown as it slipped an inch more down.
Slowly, his reflection started to grin — something manic, desperate, heartbroken in a way. But- but he was sure his own lips didn’t move.
“You know I’m right, Zam.”
He shoved himself away from the mirror. That voice had come from the mirror itself, not from him. His foot slipped on the golden and quartz tiles and he fell backwards with a startled shout, landing on the small of his back with a pained grunt as the last of his air was forced from his lungs. For a second, static flashed in front of his vision. When he blinked past it in his panic and shoved himself away further, he looked back up at the mirror.
His own face was staring back at him. Tears still streamed down his face, but he was still standing there, while the real him laid there on the floor like an idiot. The grin was still plastered on his face too, now something amused. “You should’ve known. He was always going to betray you.” Their eyes met, and a shiver ran down Zam’s back.
“What- what are you talking about?” he sputtered out. When he stood back up, his own legs wobbled underneath him. Hesitantly, he moved back in front of the mirror.
“Oh Zam, you should know, you know Wemmbu so well. He was never going to be loyal to you, he doesn’t actually care about you.”
He couldn’t deny that, could he? Everything Wemmbu had done was out of necessity. They weren’t allies, they weren’t … friends. Gods, he was so stupid.
“You heard what he said; the second he gets the chance, he will betray you. It’s going to hurt. It’s going to kill you and your entire empire. Everything you’ve worked so goddamn hard for, gone. It will all be gone.”
“Shut up.” His hands dug themselves into his hair and threw the crown onto the floor with a harsh sound he hardly heard — he couldn’t pay attention to the way his reflection still didn’t follow his movements either. He pulled at the strands in between his fingers like it would ground him and make the truth any less bitter in his throat.
“You know I’m right. He’s going to destroy it all, it’s inevitable.”
The worst part was that he was right. There was no controlling Wemmbu. If he decided he wanted to destroy Zam’s Empire, he would have the means and it would happen. Hearing it out loud made it sound so much worse. Why did he still want to cling onto that small voice that reminded him of the shared laughs in the trial chamber?
“Shut up! Just- just shut up!”
This time, he slipped a hand from his hair and rammed it into the mirror. Instantly, cracks like starlight-coloured spiderwebs divided the glass into a million pieces, some of which fell into the sink. He glared at his reflection, which simply stared at his hand as blood welled up from a couple cuts and stained the mirror. When he pulled it back, the reflection laughed, a broken sound, and raised his own hand to press his palm flat against the surface.
“Don’t trust him. Whatever you do, don’t trust him.” He moved closer to the mirror, and the real Zam mimicked, almost instinctively. “There’s only one thing you can do.”
He sniffed. His hands fell to the sink, grabbing onto it shakily as he leaned in close to the broken glass to the point it fogged up ever so slightly with each breath out. “What? What should I do?” He couldn’t do this himself. If Wemmbu really was out to get him, he needed a plan.
The hand breached the mirror. Zam’s eyes followed it, his mind fighting between looking at the hand and his reflection’s face as another laugh echoed through the bathroom. A terror froze him to the spot, made him want to grab some kind of weapon as the hairs on his arms and neck stood on end — his red and black robes or the fluff of his fur collar did nothing to provide him with any warmth as the chill of fear settled in his bones.
But it … didn’t lash out. Instead, his thumb carefully wiped a tear when it fell onto his cheek. “Oh, Zam. You don’t have to be scared. All you need to do is keep him occupied and scared of you.”
A frown pulled his eyebrows together and he moved his attention away from the hand magically coming through the mirror. “Scared? Wemmbu doesn’t get scared. How- how do I make him scared?”
Fingers grabbed him by the chin and pulled him even closer to the mirror until his head nearly knocked into it. Now, he and his reflection nearly seemed synchronised again.
“He’s nothing.”
“He’s nothing?” But wasn’t that the opposite of everything they just said?
“You will make him nothing. You’re going to take everything from him before he has a chance to have it. Defeat him, drain him, scare him off. Make him too scared to set foot in this beautiful empire you built from the ground up. He won’t get a chance to destroy anything.”
A lump stuck in his throat. He swallowed it down as he tasted the words, tongue darting out to lick his lips. That … sounded reasonable. “I can do that.” He could push Wemmbu down with a foot on his back, beat him at his own game before it even started.
Zam was good at mind games. He was going to make him suffer, make him regret ever crossing his empire in the first place. Wemmbu wasn’t going to get that chance to betray him.
A knock on the door yanked him from his thoughts. He stumbled back, hand dropping to his side, and whipped his head towards the sound so fast he almost heard his neck pop. “Yeah?” he asked, wincing at the slight crack in his voice. Hurrying to wipe the tears from his face, he cleared his throat and set foot towards the door. But he didn’t want to open it, surely no one was allowed to see him like this. No friends, no guards, no enemies. Gods, what if it was Wemmbu himself?
“Uh, Zam?”
Oh, it was just Mane. He sighed softly, impatience instantly bubbling up in his stomach. “What is it?”
“The kitchen finished dinner, we’re just waiting for you and then they’ll serve the table. Are you still coming?” In typical Mane fashion, he sounded hungry, maybe eager for a ‘no’.
Rolling his eyes, he glanced at the mirror. His reflections followed his movements perfectly. No more grins, no more desynced moves, no words that didn’t come from himself. His shoulders sagged — whether it was relief or disappointment, he didn’t know. He shook his head to clear it. “Yeah- yes, I’m coming. Give me five minutes.”
As Mane walked off, Zam moved to wipe the remaining tears from his face and rub the confusion and panic away. He had an idea now. Wemmbu wouldn’t catch him off-guard.
With a gapple in hand to heal the stinging cuts on his hand, he marched to the door. He’d come up with a proper plan later, maybe discussed over dinner when he had his strongest subjects right there. Anticipation made his steps quicker as he made his way to his closet to change into something more fit for dinner.
Wemmbu wasn’t going to get to him — not again. It was Zam’s turn to terrify him.