Chapter 13: Zhaka's Choice

Every Zebra in the Tribe's Chief tent was silent and dumbstruck, except for two. One was wearing a simple brownish robe while the other was dressed in tribal armor sitting in front of the robed zebra.

"Zezil... I should throw you to the scorpions for uttering those words." The zebra in tribal armor said holding his spear's pole tightly.

"Then do it, Zhaka. It won't change the fact that what I said is true," Zezil countered opening his arms wide.

Several seconds passed in silence until Zezil dropped his arms.

"You know I'm right, Zhaka. Please, listen to reason." Zezil begged.

"Why should I believe you, Zezil. You, who were exiled from your tribe and roam the land preaching those lies about our glorious King."

"Glorious King my flank, Zhaka!" Zezil stomped the ground. "That fucking bastard was going to hand Zebrica to Dainn on a silver platter if it meant keeping the throne, and you know it!" Zezil huffed. "Don't believe me, Zhaka. Believe the warning of Spike during the Trial. If Zebrica goes to war against the Equis Alliance we are going to lose; half the tribes are against it to begin with!"

"..." Zhaka stood up. "You want me to believe the idle threats of a genocidal maniac that drove an entire species into the brink of extinction and killed thousands by his own hands?"

"Zhaka...," Zezil growled. "You know what the Male Superiority Faithfuls do... what they did to your sister---"

"If you dare to talk about her like that, I will rip out your heart where you stand, Zezil," Zhaka said with fury in his eyes.

"Do you think I believe the lies the King spewed about her? No. I know the truth. She was not an agent of those sick fuckers, she was taken... and made to suffer the same countless females and males turned females had to suffer during the Fall, Zhaka."

The fury in Zhaka's eyes diminished. "Is that why you have come here, to my tribe's tent, to ask me to betray my King, whom the Zhulu have served his Royal Bloodline for five hundred years as their greatest and most loyal subjects?"

"Yes," Zezil said firmly. "Do you want your daughters to suffer the same fate as your sister? Because I assure you, they would have and probably even worse at the hands of the caribou if your oh so glorious fucking King had given Zebrica to Dainn," Zezil took a step forward. "I was there, Zhaka. I saw and did countless atrocities in the name of the caribou and of Male Superiority. You have no idea how depraved those fucking assholes were like. I do... Divine Creators, I do know," he then fell to his knees. "Please, Zhaka, you're the only one strong enough to take the crown from that cowardly asshole."

"It would be treason!" Zhaka barked.

"IT WOULD BE SALVATION!" Zezil countered with such force that Zhaka took a step back. "Yes, you would betray everything the Zhulu Tribe have fought for, but you would save Zebrica, too. Half the tribes don't want this war and most of the others aren't too sure about it either; only the Dhurri, Kinmo, Xakala, and the Yorihamu are backing the King in full. Zebrica would be in debt to you, Zhaka," Zezil inched closer. "The Equis Alliance would thank you for dethroning that fucking mule sitting on the Throne. Please, I don't know about the other countries, but if they somehow manage to punch through their borders... do you really think the ponies and the changelings are going to risk another Fall?"

"..." Zhaka sighed sitting on his throne again. "The ponies are weak, Zezil."

"The ponies are strong, Zhaka. They are peace-lovers, that much is true, but now they have been bloodied beyond reason and imagination... that's an entire nation ready to cut the head of whatever dares to think can take their peace away from them again. And you know it," Zezil chuckled. "The Matriarchs of the Sun and the Moon, the Element Bearers, the Changeling Queen, the might of Saddle Arabia, the air dominance of the Griffons, the power of the Yaks, the loyalty of the Buffalo... the God of Chaos himself, that's what you are facing, Zhaka, if you allow that idiot to continue with his delusions of grandeur and blind conquest. Not even our scaled brothers and sisters are thinking to join that fight; they know it is futile. A suicide."

"Please, I beg you, in the name of Zebrica, kill the King and take the throne."

Zhaka closed his eyes and breathed slowly for a few minutes. When he opened his eyes, he turned to see his daughters and his most trusted chancellors and shamans... all of them nodding. He then turned to see the gathered warrior in the lounge, all of them nodded. Lastly, he looked at the servants all around the tent, all of them nodding.

"Very well, Zezil... I, Zhaka the Zulu, shall end this madness before it begins. For Zebrica. For the Zhulu," he then stood up as he chanted something. His eyes turned black, runes appeared all over his body, and his spear began to shine slightly. "Drop the enchantment."

The moment the order was given, the frantic sound of troops preparing and moving all around them was heard. Zhaka moved outside the tent, followed by his loyal warriors, eyes focused on the King's tent a hundred meters in front of him.

"Zhu’l kar-iji, Koptaka zu hawarudo." He muttered increasing the intensity of the marks and runes all over his body and armor, his eyes now two black pearls.

A moment later he sprinted towards the Royal Tent when he saw his King step out of it flanked by two of his guards.

End.

Author's Note

Special thanks to anyone that read this!