Chapter 38: Beasts in the Royal Plains

Dreams. Dreams were infinitely more….. dreamy, when you were tied to magic. They say all dreams are for a reason. A product of an experience, a worry… maybe even a desire. Bronte's dreams were still a mystery to him.

Just him, waking up on a stone walkway as cold as the North Pole. Storms over an endless turbulent sea. And then the beast of many skins and varied forms, hunting.

Was it a purpose, an experience, or a desire?

Or was it none?

He had that question often. But not this time.

This time the creature at the end of the stone walkway never moved. He waited on one knee like a knight standing before royalty, as the clouds shifted and melded.

A beautiful face made of clouds watched him. Electrical accents lined her eyes like makeup, rainwater fell around her like translucent locks of hair.

Beautifully horrifying.

His bloodline's bestower of power. One of many apparently.

One that went by many names. But he knew her as Oshtur.

"Hello, Child."

"Yo…"

"Your home is near. But you cannot be directly taken to their stronghold. You need to follow the storm. She is waiting…—"

The beast at the end of the walk path jolted, Bronte did the same in response and moved to defend himself.

***

"—onte!!"

Bronte's vision returned. His senses readjusted themselves, the interior of the Quinjet welcomed him.

His siblings surrounded him, eyes alert and hands raised. Behind Daken and Laura at the cockpit entrance, Agent Coulson and the pilots had pistols aimed at the ready.

"You with us?" Laura questioned.

Brontë looked down at his hands, noticing his claws extended. Sparks of lightning danced along the bio-metal surface.

The sweat leaking down his hulking arms and chest froze, spiking like fur.

For the first time, Bronte exhaled. The sweat fell. His claws sunk back into his skin, and he relaxed.

"My bad….my bad." Was all he managed.

Everyone else in the Quinjet calmed shortly after.

After a few seconds, Gabbie walked over and punched him in his side.

He looked down at her in response. These days that wasn't much. She was only a few inches shorter than him and almost identical to Laura these days.

"Why do you always have these violent nightmares when I'm next to you?! If you wanna fight just say that." She made a pouty face while handing him a blanket, reminding him that she wasn't Laura even if they looked like twins split by time.

Bronte rubbed her head after wrapping the blanket around him, causing her thick brown hair to shake around her face.

"You know it's not like that. I just need some weighted blankets at this point." Bronte replied

"I'll put a pick up truck on you before bed, brother." Raze said, despite it sounding like a joke he was probably very serious.

Agent Coulson finally holstered his weapon.

"Well…. Now that everyone's awake, I guess it's time I tell you how things go from here." He started.

"From where?" Laura questioned.

"We're not in Wakanda. He can't enter, we have to find our way from here on foot." Bronte explained as he stretched his tight muscles.

Agent Coulson looked at him, his usually expressionless face twitched momentarily as he adjusted his tie.

"That is true. Wakanda doesn't allow outsiders so this is as far as we go. The rest is up to you. The Queen says you'll know your way from here."

"How the fuck—" Daken started before looking at Bronte, "Nevermind."

"Ok. So where are we?" Laura questioned.

Agent Coulson shrugged, "We were instructed to turn off our gps."

"Since when did SHIELD respect others rules this much?" Laura pressed.

"When we have a lucrative deal….. at least that's what we thought we had." Agent Coulson explained.

"What deal…..Victor Creed?" Laura questioned.

Bronte's insides twisted at the mention of his name. He suddenly remembered Agent Coulson questioning him about the man at the start of their flight.

He must've traded information with Wakandan Royalty in hopes of being allowed to pull information on Sabretooth from the last people he fought.

"He has government resources running through his veins. We were hoping you've seen him in the last three years so we can triangulate a general area. But….. nothing. He tends to do that."

"And now you'll keep eyes and ears in Africa in hopes of running into him. Since he'll be after us." Bronte guessed.

Agent Coulson smiled, "Our directives and deployment regions are confidential. And our services to you have just been completed. So please, have a safe journey and we hope to see you under better circumstances in the future. Maybe Wakanda and SHIELD can become a team of sorts. The world needs it with the absence of the the Avengers."

The back of the Quinjet opened up, allowing the steady pitter patter of rain to fill Bronte's ears.

He headed for the door, "Yea…. Right."

They all headed out into the unknown of Africa. Searching for home. Searching for Wakanda.

The moment Bronte's feet touched the natural wet soil, he felt an energy run through him. It felt like a breath, one taken from everywhere instead of just his lungs. It filled him entirely and made him dizzy.

As if the world that welcomed him wasn't doing that already.

So different from New York. In every way.

They were in a village— only a few hundred feet away. The flat ground allowed Bronte and his siblings to see for miles. But they focused on what was closet. A collection of homes, not the stereotypical and usually inaccurate mud huts but a naturally advanced and beautiful encampment. The homes looked grown from the world instead of placed on it.

And the rain. It tasted so…..

His train of thought was frayed as people began to pour from the village homes, dancing and shouting under the rain as they wet their course hair and dark skin.

"It seems your anger has benefits beyond murder, young traveler…" Raze said, morphing his vocal chords to sound old…. And British?

Brontë looked back at him, his face made longer and more slim to look like the classic mentor in a fantasy novel.

"Gabbie reads too much lord of the rings, huh?"

"Never too much." Gabbie stated.

"Voldemort is my spirit animal…" Raze said confidently.

"That's Harry Potter, dumbass." Daken interjected as the last to leave the Quinjet.

"What do you know, emo boy?" Raze snarled playfully and flicked his forehead.

They all fell silent as footsteps behind them came to a stop, followed by a startled shriek after watching Raze's arm extend far beyond human limits.

Brontë turned around at the front of the group.

They found themselves facing an adult woman and a child. They were clothing similar to the other village people. Colorful wrappings with detailed embroidery and design.

On the adult woman's head she held a container full of water. It shook from her unsteady breathing.

The younger child shivered.

Bronte took off the blanket Gabbie gave him. He took a step forward, slowly, with his hands raised and open.

Once he was close enough, he handed the blanket to the younger child. Silence was all that remained. He stepped out of the way with his siblings and let them head home.

Soon enough the village people took note of them, beginning to stare while others began arming themselves.

"Looks like it's time to go." Daken said.

"Yep." Bronte agreed and they headed further from the village.

***

They ran. Running was something they all loved. Something you had to love if the intensity of human fatigue wasn't a limiter.

They cleared miles upon miles in hours, passing through big cities reminding him of home and smaller ones full of all the uniqueness he would've guessed he'd find. Along their way, they burst through plains, running beside Cheetah's and sluggish prides of Lions. When they stopped to eat, Bronte would share his meals with the Wild Dogs that were never far. It was nice. The sun was bright.

He felt like he could've stayed out in the thick of it all day.

"Ok, genius. You don't know where you're going." Daken growled finally after they all came to a stop following another twenty mile run.

They just left Sudan. A country of sand and beautiful architecture. The last time they stopped was when they ran into the pyramids of Meroē. Brontë was surprised to see them, he thought pyramids were only in Egypt. But then again, he was a highschool drop out.

"I know where I'm going." Bronte replied, "Sort of…. Just let me work."

"We've let you work for a hundred miles at this point. I'm not running off every meal just to be starved and irritated in a desert at midnight." Daken explained.

"I don't know…. Being in a jungle like this at night could be fun….heheheh.." Raze said as him and the others looked around the rainforest.

Kenya had beautiful wildlife. The forest felt thicker than anything he'd ever seen. And the sun couldn't breach the thick fog covering the canopy when it was at its fullest.

Fullest….

Brontë looked back up at the fog above the trees.

There were spots a few miles back where it wasn't thick. As if it had a shape.

"Follow the storm….."

"What?" Daken questioned before Laura slapped his arm.

"Be patie—" Her words were cut off as Bronte flew straight up and out of the forest in a burst of wind.

The fog split like the opening of clouded tendrils as he rose towards the sky. The wind ruffled his dreaded braids and dried the sweat on his muscles.

He hovered, looking down at the fog over the forest. It was shaped as an arrow spanning across all of Sudan and ending in Kenya. A few dozen miles further ahead a single streak of lightning fell from the sky. He couldn't see it, but he felt it. As if an invisible wall—

"CoME HERE YOU SNEAKY FUCK!" Raze roared loud enough to shake the clouds followed by a ruffling from combat below.

Brontë divebombed for the floor, landing back on solid ground with his siblings in a burst of dirt.

He looked around to find Raze shaking on the floor as electrical currents ran through his body shifting in and out of blue.

The others had their claws and fangs exposed as they faced the combatants.

Men and women wearing blue and silver cloth integrated into both medieval and advanced looking armor. They all had spears drawn, a gleaming silver weapon of expert craftsmanship.

Snorting sounds in the distance told Bronte Rhino's we're somewhere behind them. He assumed they rode them based on the human smells mixed in with the Rhino.

Despite the adult men and woman with their weapons drawn at them, he was more moved by the younger male standing ahead of them.

He looked down at them from his spot atop a small cliffs edge. He didn't have a spear like the others. He had a sword, but it was sheathed. And he didn't wear blue and silver. He wore black. Molded over the contours of his lean and slim muscle. Under the sun it glimmered a purple and blue in technological wavelengths.

"You must be the guests….." His voice was young. But there was no softness. Even his face matched. Young, but no softness.

It was hard. Fit with a wide nose, slim uninterested blue eyes and lips that reminded Bronte of Ororo Munroe. His hair was short, shaved in sharp unnatural designs to the point that it looked less like hair and more like claw marks.

Bronte placed a hand on Raze and absorbed the electricity. It almost stunned him. It's potency far from natural. Magical even, much like his own. Different, but familiar.

"And you must be…. What's his name?"

"Bronte is what the Americans are calling him." One of the spear holders said.

"Aye I think we're having a misunderstanding." Bronte started, "My brother can be a little jumpy— we all can. But we mean no harm where there is none. We're here at the request of Ororo Munroe." Bronte explained. Wakanda was only a few miles away he had to assume this was a border patrol of some sort.

"So are we." The teen replied. He looked as uninterested as ever. Face harder than stone. It didn't look right on someone so young.

"Ok so what's up with the weapons?" Bronte questioned.

"The Border Tribe must keep themselves protected. Your….. brother attacked. I defended myself."

Brontë nodded, "No doubt…. But nobody else is attacking. And ya'll still defending. So do we have problems?"

Storm clouds began to collect, darkening the light in the forest.

The Border Tribe members began to look up at the sky nervously.

The teen leading them finally showed emotions. Unlike the others he just looked angry. So angry….

The Border Tribe member closest to him suddenly walked over to him. "Prince Azari, your Mother won't appreciate you causing trouble with our guests. Royal blood is among them. Let us bring them into, Wakanda. They are waiting."

Azari took a deep breath before speaking to them all, "Follow."

And then he turned and walked away, disappearing behind a wall of invisibility.

"What the hell was that?" Bronte thought aloud.

Laura sighed, "I think that was your brother…."

"Seems like a dick." Daken muttered as he walked past him.

And with that, they all ventured into Wakanda. Not the best start, but a start nonetheless. A start that Romulus would have trouble contending with if all they'd heard was true..