The Severed Exile

Location: Northeastern San Palamino Desert
Time: Mid-noon

"That..fool..." Kaffir huffed out he padded over the scorching, sandy earth, the evening sun beaming heavily down upon him, searing into his off-white, striped coat as he walked along. "Why did he sacrifice himself so...what purpose does it serve? We were all that was left..." he gritted his teeth, his eyes welling up with tears as memories began to play through his mind. "Why Allambee...why him...why not me!?" Kaffir stomped a fore-hoof into the sandy earth in frustration, causing it to drive itself into it a good depth, effectively causing Kaffir to trip mid-stride and fall forward onto his chest. He rolled helplessly onto his side, groaning but feeling otherwise too weak to pick himself back up, the unforgiving desert heat sapping what little energy he had left from him.

"Why...couldn't they...have taken me instead..." Kaffir huffed out weakly, tears blurring his vision as he closed them, the desert heat finally getting to him as he let himself drift off...

"Ready stance...hup!" the zebra trainer called out, all the colts raising up onto their hind-hooves, brandishing their wooden spears as they balanced themselves with practiced ease. "Forwaaard thrust!"

"HAH!" the colts all shouted as they took their spears and jabbed straight forward with them before pulling them back and readying themselves once more.

"Good! Now...block!" the instructor called out as he paced, watched the colts carefully. They all positioned their spears in a downward position in front of themselves, holding up the haft before themselves, blocking. "Good! Now....sweep and recover!" he calls out, the zebra colts spinning about on their hind-hooves, their spears sweeping low before themselves before they stomp down, readying themselves once more. "Alright, colts! Thrust, block, sweep, recover. Ready!"

"Hah!" the colts called out, gripping their spears, determination etched on all their faces.

"Thrust! Block! Sweep! Recover!" the instructor called out, the colts performing the combination of moves flawlessly, sounding off loudly with each practiced maneuver as they did them. The instructor kept shouting, working the colts vigorously. Kaffir was toward the middle of the pack of colts, pushing himself along with the other colts, at least until the 6th succession, he mistepping mid-sweep, causing him to trip and fall to his side with a loud thud.

"Stop!" the instructor called out as he saw Kaffir fall. "Kaffir! Why are you on the ground!?"

"I...I lost my balance and tripped. I'm sorry..." the young Kaffir said as he scrambled back up onto his hind hooves.

"You lost your balance and died, that's what you did!" the instructor barked back. "You can't afford to have any mishaps! The lions prey on the weakest of the pack! Do you want to be the weakest!?"

"N-no instructor." Kaffir responded.

"I said do you want to be the weakest!?"

"No instructor!" Kaffir shouted back with a little more vigor.

"You're not convincing me!" the zebra instructor scoffed and shook his head. "In my group, we will not have any weak zebras! None! Now, you start galloping laps until I tell you to stop, and don't you dare let me catch you slowing down! You slow down, you die!" he called out, stomping a hoof as Kaffir groaned to himself, leaving them formation of colts and began to run around the training ring.

Hours as the instructor continued to train his pupils, the whole time Kaffir galloped around the circle, he huffing and groaning since he'd been doing so without even so much as a break or slowing down, keeping his pace the best he could but just barely. Eventually the shouting stopped and the colts began to disperse, the instructor finally turning around as he watched Kaffir run another pass. "You can stop. Go home. If I see you falter again, I'll have you thrown in the arena." the instructor said before walking off, Kaffir finally slowing down and slumping, his legs and lungs burning from the rigorous running.

"He be too tough on ya, bruddah..." Allambee said as he walks over to Kaffir. "We still young, ya know. We got time ta train."

"Maybe...but I doubt...the lions would care...how old you were..." Kaffir shook his head as he panted.

"Trust me, da day ya get caught by a lion otha den one of da village warriors is da day all discord breaks loose." Allambee shook his head. "Dhey take what dhey can get, and we be tossin' warrior at dhem like candy, so dhey be pretty preoccupied."

"You say this, but what of the day that we both become the village warriors and we're thrown at them?"

"Dun ya worry ya mane 'bout tat, pon. I'll be da best warrior dhis village eva seen." Allambee announced proudly.

"And ya be gettin' no closah to bein' dat 'best warrior' if ya don' get home and do ya chores." came a deep, firm voice from behind Allambee, the colts' fathers padding up behind him.

"Doh, ya fahdah. Ya take care, Kaffir!" Allambee waved a hoof as he scampered off.

"Seems like ya son be messin' up again in da class." Allambee's father shook his head as he looked at Olwenyo. "Ya should be keepin' a bettah eye on 'im, 'lest he become foddah for da lions..." he casted a sideways glance at Kaffir as he turned to follow Allambee back to their home.

"Father I'm...I'm sorry." Kaffir sighed as he bowed his head dejectedly at the comment made toward him.

"Pay him no mind, my son." Olwenyo shook his head as he looked at Kaffir. "I know you are capable. I believe in you."

"This would be the third day in a row that I messed up..." Kaffir sighed again. "If I mess up again, I'll be thrown in the arena..."

"Perhaps. But remember this, son..." Olwenyo walked over to sit beside his son. "No matter how slowly you may come to perfect things, make sure you never stop. You may be discouraged by how others treat you, but do not let it bother you. In order to be strong, you must be strong to yourself. We live in harsh times, as it should be, but you cannot falter. Believe in yourself."

"Yes father.." Kaffir looked up to his father and nodded before looking down again. "Father? Do you think one day I will be thrown at the lions to fight and die?"

"You will not be thrown at the lions, son..." Olwenyo shook his head, chuckling to himself at the thought. "When the time is right, you will face them, and they will know fear. They will face your determination firsthand and falter to your resilience." he said as he ruffled Kaffir's dreaded mane. "Come. Let us return home."

Kaffir shook awake, nightfall having enveloped the desert, the temperature having dropped dramatically to a bitter cold in contrast to the unforgiving heat of the day. He rose to his feet slowly, shaking off the last of his sleep before huffing and beginning his trek forward, moving in a brisk gallop toward the horizon. "...make sure you never stop." The words played through his mind again and again as he began to gallop faster and faster, determined now to escape the desert.