Quote:
Angie has failed to provide further IC explanation for why Maji's been demoted. So I'm making a lot of assumptions. I'll edit if needed.
A pair of cerulean eyes narrowed towards the caves opposite to his own. Rage wasn’t a new emotion for him, hardly. Ever since his mane began to emerge the land had endured one blow after another, and he along with it. There was no explanation for it. For years he had believed, as a cub, that he was the last of his kind. Slowly more and more had trickled in with claims that only grew less and less logical over time. Ciyari had been the first to break the mold…
She had been the first to come into the lands, declaring herself the queen. She had even had a bodyguard padding at her heels and bowing to her every whim. Out of respect, at the time Maji had bowed himself to her claims. Back then he’d been foolish, trusting… he still wanted to believe that there were noble souls still lingering within the valley walls. Those who had honor still beating in their breasts and only truth on their tongues but his wishes and what was were two very different things.
Once more the land was subjected to a queen. True as her blood was, her claim was as false as Ciyari’s had been. A brute and a moron. Unable to even read the writings on the wall, the history passed down from her own bloodline. She too came with support at her back, but her support far outweighed and outnumbered his. Only Obi, his adopted son, and Kisulisuli remained loyal to him in face of the brutish lioness. Then there was the Anansi… rather the former Anansi.
He couldn’t entirely say he trusted them either. The small band’s leader, Taban, was sly and while he had never knowingly lied to him, he had a snake’s tongue. While he spoke the truth, he spoke it with a hidden agenda at all times. The cheetah delighted in obtaining knowledge, rumors, secrets, and stories. What he learned was in far greater supply than what he was willing to divulge.
However, the prince of the mists and the tactition of the freelands could at least agree on one thing…
“You were tricked out of your throne here.” The cheetah said casually, following Maji’s glare towards the opposite caves.
“I suspected as much.” Was Maji’s quiet, growling reply.
“I did tell you before, and often… you turned your back far too often on those that would put their claws in it. You allowed them into these lands unchecked, gave them a benefit of a doubt, and in time they grew in number, removed you from your post.” He chuckled, narrowing is bright eyes, “Not bad for brutes.”
“Brutes indeed.” Maji spat, “Nothing more… as savage, barbaric, and uncultured as the breeding filth that had run off our prey.”
“One in the same.” Taban waved a paw a bit, “But you did allow yourself to their trickery quite easily.”
The lion growled a warning to the cheetah, flashing him a look that was normally quite unlike him, but considering the current situation, it was more than expected.
“Now now.” Taban glanced over, obviously uninitiated by the dangerous look, “Keep your wit about you… I did agree to do what I could.”
“For a price.”
“All great minds have a price on them, milord.” The cheetah smirked a bit, “Otherwise it would be a waste of my talent. I owe you no loyalty, I am not a member of these lands or any. I don’t believe I’ll ever settle myself.”
“Hmph…”, Maji turned his eyes away once more, “What do you have in mind?”
“Well I do find myself fascinated with your talent for keeping written records.” He glanced over a shoulder towards one of the walls, the paint still wet on the walls with the recent turn of events. “Such a skill would be invaluable to me and worth quite a bit of my loyalty in fact… to keep record of all I’ve seen, all the stories I have to tell, and perhaps even learn to make records of all the movements of the outside prides. Why, it’s a tactition’s dream.”
“You wish for our knowledge.” Maji glanced over, earning a sharp nod from the cheetah.
“Indeed… and as a complementary suggestion on my part… that knowledge is best kept to yourself and those you can trust.”
“How do you mean?”
“Well they say knowledge is power.” He tapped on his head with a claw, “And you have knowledge, they have physical power. As time goes, the body grows weaker and the mind stronger. By the time you and your sister dearest are aged, it will be you with the advantage rather than her… as you said yourself she has the education of a barbarian.”
“What of cubs?”
“What of them? I’ve seen no mate stand beside her.”
“True enough, but she has plenty of her entourage to choose from.” He snorted.
“True enough.” Taban shrugged, “But any offspring that rogue produces will be as their mother… strong but uneducated. She doesn’t know the depths of the cave, the maze to her is an open hallway to you.” He smirked, “The underground paths and the passages through the cliffs…”
Maji glanced over, “You’re already working on something…”
“Of course.” The cheetah smirked, “It seems to me that they have put you in quite the position. You love this pride, yes?”
“It’s all I have.” Maji admitted quietly, his eyes falling to the ground. “I’ve watched over these lands since I was a cub…”
“And they’re fully aware of that.”
“Your point?”
“Well they know you want this place to survive no matter what, even if it costs you personally. The culture, religion, and knowledge of a pride are the backbones of it. However, none of them know half as much about the pride as they should since they’ve been absent.”
Maji frowned, “They expect me to educate them.”
“More or less, that‘s what it seems like. I cannot say for sure, I know little of them and I doubt they‘d lower themselves to have an audience with a cheetah. Especially-no offense-if he‘s in association with you. But from what I‘ve been told by you and your aggravated cousin… it‘s the conclusion I‘ve come to.”
Maji snarled a bit. He was fully aware the at this rate the knowledge of how to read and write could very well die with him. He’d been teaching Obi but the young lion’s skills couldn’t hold a candle to what a true Mistweaver was capable of. If that knowledge died then the Mistweavers would be no better than the wild prides that festered the rest of the land. “Over my dead body.”
“More or less.” The cheetah repeated with a smirk.
