Ch 5 The Cursed Ones

      The Cursed One



  The two warriors advanced confidently toward the shadowy figures looming before them, unafraid to confront them directly. Beneath the dark canopy of the tree, two figures remained still, attempting to blend into the surroundings. As Slash and Razor approached, the shapes of their adversaries became increasingly distinct. Suddenly, Slash stopped in his tracks. He recognized who awaited him, and he knew this encounter would not end well. With a low growl, he bared his teeth and lowered his head. Razor, recognizing who it was, shouted a warning to his leader, mentally notifying the King.

"My King, it is King Jarvius of the Black mane Tribe," he said reportedly.

King Ezekiel wasted no time. He leaped down from the rock and sprinted ahead, his loyal band of warriors following closely behind. King Jarvius, aware of his defeat, stepped into the moonlight, revealing himself. His eyes glowed a deep brown, bordering on a red undertone.  His mane was black as the night sky. He may not have been as large as King Ezekiel, but he was still a formidable presence for his kind. The King let out a growl so powerful that it reverberated through everyone's very being. For the first time, Zarda found himself trembling; his heart raced as his paws rhythmically pressed into the ground. The cubs' eyes were wide with fear, attentive to the terrifying sounds that echoed from outside. Mara and Dimvi tried their best to soothe the frightened little ones, but they too felt a deep sense of unease, aware that something was amiss.

King Ezekiel wasted no time with pleasantries. He lunged straight into an assault, his formidable paw slicing through the air towards King Jarvius's face. They tumbled to the ground, locked in a fierce struggle. The two colossal lions clashed with brutal intensity. Their contrasting natures—Ying and Yang—swirled around them, but harmony was nowhere to be found. The onlookers watched in terror as the Kings tore into each other's flesh. The night was filled with screams and guttural roars of pain. It wouldn't be long before the tribes would have unwelcome visitors; they would come to investigate the source of the chaos. The King knew he had to resolve the situation swiftly. He targeted a long-standing injury of King Jarvius and pressed the attack relentlessly until his adversary was sprawled on the ground, pleading for mercy. Releasing his grip, Ezekiel glared down at the defeated opponent. His breath came in ragged gasps, drawing in air as rapidly as it escaped his lungs. Fueled by adrenaline, he embraced his hard-fought victory.

In his thoughts, he started addressing King Jarvius. "Leave my kingdom at once, you serpent! Your kind is neither welcome here nor were you invited. It was foolish of you to enter another pride's territory without any soldiers to support you. What kind of King behaves like that? You and your dark companion must depart immediately, or I will be forced to kill you." King Ezekiel commanded.

He communicated his intentions clearly to everyone present. King Jarvius had been incredibly foolish in his decision. His Tribe was in dire need of sustenance, and the enticing aroma of fresh meat had tragically lured him into enemy lands. He had hoped to find a solitary leopard's kill and was not intending to take food from the White mane Pride.

"An easy score," he reassured himself. Unfortunately, tonight, luck was not on his side.

His shoulder was torn open, revealing the raw, pink flesh beneath his skin. Blood flowed relentlessly from the wound. The broken king struggled to rise to his feet, but it proved more difficult than it appeared, with his old injury now reopened. Just then, his concealed ally appeared: the Queen, who stepped forward to reveal her identity. She glared at King Ezekiel, responding cautiously to his malevolent demand. Ezekiel was completely unaware that it was the witch queen herself, concealed in the shadows the whole time.

The Queen hissed with malice, "Take heed, oh King. Your realm is destined to crumble, and I will revel in the chaos from afar. I cast a curse upon you and your kingdom: may confusion and turmoil surround you, to the point that you must rediscover the very essence of life."

With her last words, she glared at him and stepped back into the shadows, her mortally wounded king in tow. King Ezekiel couldn't shake her dark visage from his mind, nor could he forget her words. A wave of dizziness washed over him, and a sense of lethargy settled in. He dismissed it, attributing it to his blood loss. King Jarvius had landed several deep strikes, and blood was pouring from his injuries, soaking his fur and transforming its once-white hue to a deep crimson.

Queen Saharrah gazed in horror as she hurriedly guided her King back to the rock, taking great care not to attract the cub's gaze. She tended to his injuries and ordered her warriors to pursue the intruders from out their territory. Meanwhile, she dispatched others to search for the elusive mother's herb. This was the sole herb she knew capable of healing a wound overnight. Time was slipping away, and the universe seemed to be accelerating unnaturally. Something terrible was unfolding in the world.

King Ezekiel's breath grew shallow, and his eyes raced back and forth in panic. He winced in agony, a sight that was tormenting to behold. His once white fur, stained red, was now fading to a dull gray. Queen Saharrah began to scream for help, this time with her own voice. Fear and confusion washed over her and everyone nearby who witnessed the distressing scene. They had never heard her actual voice, only her thoughts. Despite their fear, they rushed to help her. When they approached to inquire what she needed from them, they found themselves unable to comprehend her speech. Although they watched her speak, the words that escaped her lips were in a language they could not recognize. Filled with anger and frustration, she seized the paws of the closest lioness and pressed them against the King's wounds. Without uttering another word, she dashed away in search of additional medicine.                           

"Witchcraft! It's all witchcraft! That queen cursed my king for no reason at all," she exclaimed, filled with anger. She couldn't fathom why they had entered their territory, but then a realization struck her. A gentle voice whispered in her mind.

"It was the reward of your conquest. They were starving and in need of sustenance. The scent of the meal beckoned them toward you." The voice vanished as swiftly as it had come.

A sense of unease settled in her stomach, a gnawing discomfort that filled her empty gut. It was her own doing—bringing back the leftovers for her cubs. She had lured them in, and with them, others followed. It felt as if war was destined to be the tale of the night. Shaking her head to dispel those thoughts, she left the kings side in search for king's tongue, a type of mushroom known for its ability to extract poison from wounds inflicted by spells. Saharrah called for Anola, a fierce lioness warrior, to keep watch over his body. The Queen believed that if the King ate a little, it might lift the curse. While she held onto hope, frustration simmered within her. She struggled to locate what she so urgently needed. Time was slipping away quickly. Just then, Anola, burst into the makeshift infirmary beneath an Acacia tree. Her face was marked with dire news. The queen, however, remained oblivious as she continued her search in the medicine hut.

"My Queen, do you hear me? Hello, my Queen, can you hear me? I have some terrible news. It's about the King... he is dead." She spoke, her voice heavy with sorrow.

The Queen initially did not hear her. She was too consumed on searching for King's tongue. When the words finally registered, her heart seemed to freeze. The lioness stood patiently, awaiting her Queen's response and orders. Suddenly, she turned sharply on her paws and gazed blankly at the young warrior, shaking her head vigorously. Wordlessly, the Queen dashed toward her King with all her might. It was indeed King Ezekiel, her former beautiful and strong love now lifeless and cold. His spirit had departed from his body, leaving her to feel the overwhelming void surrounding her.

"What happens now?" she wondered. "Prince Zarda isn't mature enough to take the throne. Can I really assume control in the King's absence? I'm too apprehensive for that. What will happen to us?" Dread began to consume her thoughts.

The Queen needed to clear her mind, which was rapidly slipping away from her. Her scout soon returned, holding the mother's herb. Unfortunately, it was too late for the King, but not for her own use. She needed it to maintain her sanity, and Saharrah was determined to utilize the herb. The warrior released it from his tightly clenched teeth and let it fall at the feet of Queen Saharrah. She swallowed the contents eagerly, without hesitation. Her mind started to spin; the lights intensified, transforming the dark sky into daylight. Queen Saharrah surveyed the vast expanse around her, carefully scaling the King's rock to gaze upon the Savannah. It felt as if a light switch had been flipped. She had a clear view of her warriors driving out the intruders from the Black mane Tribe. In addition, she spotted a pack of hyenas sprinting toward their den, which was just an hour's distance away.

Saharrah summoned her pride, urging them to prepare for the impending attack. Only two understood her—her sister Raya and her friend Keeku. Unlike the Queen, they were capable of communicating with the others. They relayed her command to the lions. She felt a mix of gratitude and amazement that they could comprehend her at all; not everyone had been so fortunate. Each warrior took their position, preparing themselves for the oncoming assault. The Queen was anxious; if they let the hyenas get this close to their territory, there was a very real threat to their pride's cubs. Saharrah altered her commands, compelling her warriors to advance against their adversary. Queen Saharrah instructed Raya to ensure that lionesses Mara and Dimvi remained with the cubs, vowing to protect them at any cost. In the event of a worst-case scenario where the hyenas breached their camp, she ordered them to prioritize Zarda's safety. Deep down, she understood this would likely mean sacrificing her own cubs, as well as those of the other lionesses. She felt there was no other option.

They grasped their orders and braced for the worst; in case the camp was compromised. Mara tucked Prince Zarda underneath her, gently urging him to follow her to a concealed hiding place among the underbrush. It was a good distance from the cave but still close enough to spot any approaching threats. Nestled in the foliage, she had a quick escape route ready to retreat into a nearby warthog burrow, if necessary. Mara offered a silent prayer to the Creator Above, asking for their protection from any danger. Zarda was utterly bewildered, unable to grasp the situation. His eyes scanned the darkness, where he discerned still, shadowy forms scattered throughout the cave, though he couldn't quite identify them. Mara felt a sense of relief in the enveloping gloom. Ahead of them lay the lifeless body of King Ezekiel, shrouded in the shadows of the night. Mara understood the gravity of what had occurred, but she refrained from revealing the grim truth to Zarda.

The night stretched on endlessly. The warriors appeared to run without cease. The mocking laughter of the hyenas grew increasingly louder, drawing nearer and nearer. Now face to face, it was a fight to the death: lion against hyena. This night promised to be long and agonizing. The yips and growls filled the darkness, splashing the sky with sound like vibrant colors. For Queen Saharrah, however to her advantage, her vision remained bright as daylight. The queen unleashed her wrath upon every vile creature that crossed her path. One victim, overwhelmed by the torment she inflicted, turned and raced back to his distant lands. Driven by an adrenaline surge, she became an unstoppable force. In an unyielding battle, her troops clashed fiercely with their adversaries. Injuries were plentiful, with wounds marking both sides of the conflict.

The Queen was so preoccupied chasing after a scruffy hyena that she failed to notice another one slipping away into the night toward the lions' den. The creature leisurely strolled through the darkness. Meanwhile, inside the cave, an eerie silence prevailed. Meeku was frustrated that his brother had been singled out by Mara to leave. Overcome with curiosity, he quietly slipped past Dimvi and moved into the shadows. He hurried over to the hiding spot where Mara and Zarda sat motionless like statues.

"Meeku! What are you doing outside the cave? Go back immediately and stay safe inside," Mara said, her voice filled with fear.

He was uninterested in her words; all he desired was to be beside his brother. Yet, an inner voice pushed him to remain. Zarda sensed that same impulse.

"Mara, let him go. I want my brother by our side. I'm starting to have a bad feeling," Zarda said.

Mara didn't doubt her future King. Despite his youth, he commanded such authority. She gently pulled Meeku in with her paw, concealing him beneath her chest beside Zarda.

"Stay quiet. No crying or screaming. Do you understand?" Mara said firmly.

Both cubs shook their heads yes. From the shadows, Mara spotted a sinister shape drawing closer. It was the very thing she had feared—it wasn't a lion, but a hyena. The creature swiftly approached the cave. Dimvi hissed while deep growls resonated from inside, mingling with the soft cries and whimpers of the cubs. The hyena savored the scent of the lion cubs' fear, and it felt enticing. The cacophony of noises filled Zarda with a crippling fear. Mara lowered herself closer to the cubs, her eyes locking onto the hyena, which had pulled Demvi out and was shaking her fiercely by the neck. The cubs scattered from the cave in every direction. It was as though they were part of a twisted game of whack-a-mole, with the hyena launching its deadly hunt. One by one, small bodies were torn in half, necks snapped, bones shattered, and blood sprayed everywhere. The sight was utterly gruesome. Before any revealed their hiding places, Mara nudged the two beside her, urging them to follow quickly. Without hesitation, they sprang to their feet and followed her. They ran for a considerable distance until they stumbled upon an ideal warthog burrow.

Mara searched desperately for the hidden den. "Quick, get down into the hole," she urged. "You'll be safe there. Don't come out until morning. I'll return shortly," she added with uncertainty.

Zarda shouted, "NO! You can't abandon us. You'll die. Please, stay with us!"

Mara ignored the warning this time; she needed to return to the other cubs. She felt reassured that Zarda and Meeku were out of harm's way. Without hesitation, Mara raced towards the dreadful sounds of despair. The sky blazed crimson in the eyes of Queen Saharrah before her vision was swallowed by darkness. The faint cries from the lions' den pierced the air. With a heavy heart filled with dread, she understood the gravity of the situation and hurried off to rescue her little ones. The warriors not involved in the battle took off, quickly chasing after their Queen. Meanwhile, the others finished off the few hyenas that were still alive—no more than one or two; the rest lay still in their own blood. Although the pack had emerged victorious in battle, their triumph would be short-lived.