An Inevitable Trial

**Shaira's POV**

I felt on the verge of collapse, yet still, I forced myself to keep my head high. Owan's words echoed distantly in my ears, and I could barely process what was happening. Omawit's gaze, filled with contempt, never left me as he addressed his father.

"Father," he began, his voice loud and clear so that everyone present could hear him. "I have brought this woman to face the trial she should have had months ago. She is not who she claims to be; she is an eteri warrior, an enemy of our people. From the very beginning, she deceived everyone with her false story, mocking our trust."

Every word was like a lash against me, but I couldn't let it break me. I stood as firmly as I could, breathing heavily but looking at Owan with eyes full of defiance.

The chief watched me for a long moment, his dark eyes reflecting a seriousness that seemed unshakable. Then he turned to Omawit, who was impatiently awaiting a response. "If Omawit has evidence to support his accusation," Owan finally said, his voice grave, "then we will proceed with a trial. The truth must come to light, and the council of elders will decide her fate."

The murmurs in the crowd intensified, and I could feel eyes fixed on me from all directions. Some faces showed doubt, others curiosity, and there were those who seemed to have already condemned me. Owan's words offered no comfort; deep down, I knew that a trial would be just another stage where Omawit would try to destroy me.

"The truth is obvious!" Omawit exclaimed, not taking his eyes off me. "From the first day she appeared in Zuwua, her story was full of lies. She pretended to be a lost outsider when she is, in fact, an eteri soldier. All you need to do is look at the insignia on her uniform for proof!"

The indignation in his voice sounded almost convincing, but what hurt me the most was the cold indifference with which he described me. To him, I was nothing more than a piece in a game he sought to win at all costs, regardless of how much he twisted the facts to achieve his goal.

Owan raised a hand to silence his son, and his gaze fell on me once more. "You have the right to defend yourself, Shaira," he said, his voice lower, almost like a warning. "The council will listen to what you have to say, but you must be honest. If you have lied to our people, the consequences will be severe."

My throat dried up at the thought of what I needed to say. Every word I spoke would be judged by this crowd, by the council, and especially by Angro's family. The family of the man I loved, who at that moment, I didn’t know if he was alive or fighting to find me. But I couldn’t let Omawit control the narrative. I couldn’t give him the power to define my fate without even presenting my version.

I took a deep breath and prepared to speak, knowing that each phrase had to be measured carefully. "I am not who Omawit says I am," I began, my voice trembling but firm. "It is true that I came from far away, and it is true that my past is confusing. But I have never been an enemy of yours, nor of the people of Zuwua. Everything I have done has been to survive, to protect myself from those who sought to harm me."

The crowd listened attentively, and some faces softened while others kept the same expression of doubt. Omawit, however, only seemed angrier. He stepped forward and interrupted me, his tone dripping with venom. "Protect yourself? Is that what you call hiding your true identity and approaching us with lies? Your loyalty has never been with the opranchi!"

I clenched my teeth to contain the frustration. I knew this battle would be long and difficult, but I couldn’t let Omawit defeat me so easily. I had to show everyone that, although my story was full of uncertainties, I never intended to harm them. But now, with the trial looming and the eyes of all Zuwua upon me, the chances of them believing me seemed ever slimmer.

As they dragged me towards a makeshift cell at the edge of the village, I saw Omawit and Amari exchange a look that said it all. The satisfaction on their faces was evident, as if they had already won the game. They were sure everything was under their control, and the complicity in their eyes showed it. I felt a knot of anger tighten in my stomach as I saw them, knowing they were the architects of my misfortune.

As I passed by Amari, she took a step towards me, coming close enough for her words to reach only my ears. "This is just the beginning," she whispered, her tone filled with contempt. A cruel smile curled on her lips as she looked at me with a coldness that chilled my blood. "There will be no salvation for you."

I clenched my jaw to stop myself from responding. I could feel the anger and despair burning inside me, but I knew I couldn’t let them take over. Amari wanted to see me broken, to hear me beg for mercy or show any sign of fear. But I wasn’t willing to give her that satisfaction. So instead of lowering my gaze, I faced her with a defiant expression. I locked eyes with her, unblinking, sending her a clear message: I wouldn’t be defeated so easily.

Amari raised an eyebrow, surprised by my silent response, but the disdainful smile didn’t leave her face. She walked away with a slight shake of her head, as if I weren’t worth her time. But I knew my message had gotten through. No matter how much they tried to manipulate the situation, I didn’t intend to surrender without a fight.

Finally, they locked me in the cell, a crude construction of wood and mud barely standing upright, nothing like the Tahuri where I had been taken the first time. The ground was covered with damp dirt, and the air was dense, hard to breathe. I collapsed onto the floor, feeling the weight of exhaustion in every part of my body. The ropes binding my hands and feet were so tight I could barely move. The sharp pain in my injured leg reminded me of the brutality of the capture and the long march to Zuwua.

I closed my eyes for a moment, forcing myself to focus on my breathing. I knew I had to stay calm, that losing control would only make me more vulnerable. The trial was imminent, and although the situation seemed bleak, I couldn’t give up. I couldn’t let Omawit and Amari have their way so easily.

As the darkness of the cell enveloped me, I began to prepare my mind for what was to come. I knew my words would be scrutinized with skepticism, that I would have to face Omawit's lies and endure Amari's accusing gaze. But I also knew that, somewhere out there, Angro was still fighting for me. That certainty gave me strength. I repeated to myself that I had to stay strong, that I wouldn’t let my fate be decided without putting up a fight.

Lying on the cold ground, I let my anger transform into determination. Even though my enemies were about to drag me into an unjust trial, even though the people of Zuwua might decide my doom, I would keep fighting. They wouldn’t break me, not as long as there was a glimmer of hope left.

“I’m going to get out of here,” I promised myself in a whisper, clenching my fists despite the bindings. “One way or another, I’ll get through this.”