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 Posted: Wed Feb 27, 2008 9:56 pm
A black and orange adolescent male could be seen slinking away from the scene of a battle, his blood boiling and burning within him like all of those who fought for each side, everyone one of them fighting for what was right in their hearts. Wakia knew only one thing in his heart, He loved his mother and would die if it came down to protecting her, but he did not think he could dispatch a fellow lion into the jaws of death. They were just like him, blood coursed through their veins just as it pounded through his, they had claws, four legs, paws, just as he did. The black lion knew he could never attacked, only if provoked by the other side.
Ripuka, the great mother that she was asked him while he was still so young, still so afraid of the sand around him, to stay away from those that opposed the great goddess Finar-si. Asked to inform her of anyone from the other side trying to recruit or speak with him.
He slid down he side of a dune trying not to look back as two lions tore one another apart in anger, passions so strong that he felt it resonate inside his inner cave, a place were he 'filed' all memories for later use. The storyteller to be would not look back at this fight, no matter the educational value of seeing it, of being able to relay it to new life in the pride, one he did not know was falling around him.
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Posted: Thu Feb 28, 2008 12:48 am
Azarax was not the most battle-prone of lions. He held no grudge for any of the Firekin, though he stood with the rebels. For his was a fight for change and, paradoxically, for love. For he knew he loved his home on the sands and even those Firekin who enslaved others of their own kind - they were his family. Yet, he had not been brought up as they had, and he could see the flaws in their beliefs as clear as day. And this, he knew, had to change. Their blind faith in Finar-si, their determination to keep life as it had always been. They embraced Change, and yet when it came to actually doing it, they turned a blind eye and walked the other way.
Yet for the burly creme lion, battle was wrought into his blood, generations of bloodthirsty Firekin bred into his muscular body. And though he, unlike them, took perfect camouflage in the sandy backdrop, he was still like a classic Firekin in spirit, and when the language of blood called, he could do little to resist it.
The sounds of battle raged on all around him, and Azarax found himself tensing with each clash and roar of the war, until he broke out of a walk and jogged spiritedly along the sand, even managing to half trot down the sand dune instead of simply riding the slide down. There was much tension in the air and everywhere out on the sands, and he could not quite say that he was not affected by it.
And then he saw. A splash of black against the sand. The lion was not too far away, and Azarax did not recognize him from the lines of the rebels. Usually the young lion could tell a Firekin by how brightly he saw their coat colors, and though it was harder to tell in wartime, he could see that this lion was a Firekin.
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Posted: Fri Feb 29, 2008 1:35 pm
Wakia was largely built like most of his pride was, and his black pelt with a blazing orange mane that was slowly begging to form were a key indicators that he was indeed a firekin. The battle around him mad him on edge and a familiar roar in the background forced him to turn and look. But he did not see who he expected to, there was a cream colored lion there, one he took to be around his own age based on the build, but he could not tell. The cream set him off as a slave, and although the black lion himself did not have one, he had seen many of them, but none that had the build.
The muscles beneath his pelt tensed in anticipation, readying for what could possibly result in his involvment in this war, he may not go looking for a fight, but he would not stand down as someone brought it to him. His yellow eyes watched the male descend the slope and he noted that the others had the starting of an orange mane..odd but it wasn't like he'd never seen a slave that looked exactly like any other firekin expect in size.
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Posted: Sat Mar 01, 2008 12:44 am
Even far away as he was, Azarax could tell that the black lion was about the same age as him, built just about the same way and most probably just as big. The creme lion's inability to see colors well, save for certain shades of flaming red or orange, had meant that he had had to hone his eyesight a different way. To being able to gauge distance in a glance, to notice details that most would be blind to. He could detect shapes moving out the very corners of his eyes and somehow, he could always tell whether or not there was need to whirl around and attack them.
Which lion had roared and caught the black lion's attention had most probably saved his life, for long before Wakia had turned, Azarax had already sprang into a full out run, covering ground effortlessly as he made a beeline straight for the Firekin. The sand slid from his paws, the gentle murmur of the desert as he ran. One only needed to see the young lion run to realize he knew the land as well as any traditionally raised Firekin.
Azarax knew his body well. He knew how far he could leap using just how much energy and no more. He was unskilled in the ways of battle, but in the ways of life, he was wise enough though he was but young. Even as he ran, he tested the ground beneath him. His head down, he watched the distance, and just as he sprang from three, perhaps four, strides away, Wakia turned his head.
The tan lion's yellows eyes widened as he jerked his head up. "What..." The word trailed off into a snarl as he hesitated, and then before he knew he, his front end unraveled, paws aimed at Wakia's neck. Too far up, but in that moment Azarax was glad he had, for once, overestimated.
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Posted: Sat Mar 08, 2008 11:00 am
Wakia's tensed muscles took the lead before his brain could catch up, pulling up to his hind legs, bracing himself he pushed forward with his paws, claws not extended and coming in contact with the other male's chest, causing him to topple backward. (sorry for slight godmode?)
"This is not my war!" he snarled, his mind catching up finally, "Slave, attacking me wont save you from Finar-si's wrath." He growled and fell to all fours his body language clearly angry, he had struck another, perhaps this fighting thing did come naturally.
He resisted the urge to pace, his nervous habit that helped him think things through. "Only those who believe, truly believe will be spared, don't you understand that?" He spat. What would mother say, what would she have him do, he stalled hoping the other would get spooked off by his intimidation tactic.
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Posted: Mon Mar 10, 2008 2:57 am
((No worries x3))
He stumbled back a step before taking hold of the sand and regaining his footing. He cast his gaze down to find his paws again, and then glanced up, his face half covered by the red mane that had of late began to look more like an adult's.
"Finar-si's wrath?" He echoed, in spite of himself. "None of you faithful believers have ever in your lives seen her before, and you tell me to beware of her wrath?" He fought to keep the contempt out of his voice, yet it was this way of thinking that had drawn Azarax into the war in the first place. It had to change.
He shook his head. "You think I'm a slave," He added. "And for good reason. It isn't your fault you see coat color as what determines rank. It's them." He hissed vehemently. "It's the way you were brought up. It's what they taught you.
"And yet if you were to step outside your box for just a single moment, my brother, you would see - as I see - just how much your beliefs are riddled with flaws."
The young lion lifted his head then, feeling something akin to pride within him at the mention of the cause for which he fought. For there was an inner voice that kept telling him, they would win if they tried hard enough. They would overthrow these ancient beliefs and for once, some change would come about. Change that their Finar-si was goddess of.
"You. You're Wakia, aren't you." It wasn't a question, for there was nothing that the black lion could say that wouldn't answer it. They looked alike, Azarax knew. It was how Jua had recognized him. And it was why Savitri had told him he looked like a Firekin's brother.
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Posted: Tue Mar 11, 2008 10:54 am
The black lion seethed how did this slave have the right to say any of these things! He was a heretic a nonbeliever how could he know anything! My mother taught me, that's how I know, he thought and then spoke it out loud, "My mother, she told me, why shouldn't I believe the only lion who has ever given me a care? My sister, my mother they are the only ones I can trust." Aren't they? He questioned. He had never seen Finar-si, but she was as close to him as any mother could be. His yellow eyes blazed with the fire beneath them, his mind reeling. "They do not tell lies, they are family, we are all family, our beliefs are strong, the stories too detailed to be lies."
How cou-his train of thought was thrown off as the strange slave spoke his name, "I am..I am Wakia, who are you?" He took a step back tensely.
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Posted: Wed Mar 12, 2008 2:18 am
"It is not her lie," Azarax shook his head. Why wouldn't they see? Why wouldn't they just open their eyes and see? "If she believes it and thinks it the truth, then she must be telling the truth. The only lie is the one that lies within. So buried that it takes a nonbeliever to see."
How he wished sometimes that he knew what it was like when others spoke of family. The unconditional love that existed, simply because the other was there. The tan lion knew that what he had for Mpaji was close, but it would never truly replace the love that could only fester within a happy family. Mpaji was as close a father figure as the lion had ever had, and yet he knew that it was not quite the same.
For a moment, he said nothing as he saw in Wakia the same spirit as he knew resided in Ripuka. Where Jua had inherited most obviously Ripuka's looks, Wakia had been blessed with the flame colored lioness's steadfast belief in Finar-si. Whether or not it was a good thing, Azarax could not tell. He saw in both his siblings parts of their mother that was so painfully obvious. And yet, what about him?
He was nothing like Ripuka. He didn't know of his father, but apart from the flame colored mane and tail, he was completely unlike her. He didn't believe as she did, he did not look much like her. So for a moment the little thought crept back into his mind again. What if she was lying...?
But no, she wasn't.
He glanced back to Wakia, shaking the mane away from his eyes. They were alike. Yes, they did look alike, and they were about the same size, although perhaps Azarax's frame was slightly more muscular. But it had only been how he had grown up, padding here and there, and although he knew that if Uzulu had gone ahead and treated him like any other slave, he would have grown even a little bit larger, he also knew that if he had had the same upbringing as Wakia, they would stand together and look exactly the same, save for their color.
"Me?" He half smiled and shook his head again. Oh, what Finar-si did to these poor lions. "I am your brother."
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Posted: Wed Mar 12, 2008 9:02 pm
Anger rose in him again at the other's silence, no it was not Ripuka's lie, it was this male's blindness to the great Goddess that loved him and all other Firekin so.
"Yes you," Wakia's jaw dropped at the other's last words his yellow eyes moving up the tan lions pelt seeing the mane and the markings around his eyes, it could not be so.
"Lies! Blasphemer, and now you lie to me? What is to stop me from killing you? My mother has only had two children, myself and Jua, you are not Jua." a deep gutural growl rose in his throat he felt sick, and now he saw that perhaps he was the blind one, but no matter what, this male if...no it wasn't possible, but if it were, than perhaps the great goddess watched over him as well, he just had not seen it.
"You..the s-son of Ripuka?" for the first time in his short life the young story teller was completely speechless.
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Posted: Thu Mar 13, 2008 2:13 am
"What is to stop you from killing me?" Azarax shrugged, for really he did not know. He did not know his brother in the least, so who was he to be answering questions? "I wouldn't know, but as you said. This is not your war."
He did not see in Wakia the same murderous tendencies as those that resided deep within himself. Those that could surface really quite easily, should the young lion be seriously provoked. The thought chilled him a bit, but he had little choice other than to accept it as a fact. Yet how was he to judge his dark pelted brother? From a meeting that had thus far lasted only a few moments? But when it came down to it, Azarax did could not imagine Wakia killing another simply because he thought they were a blasphemer, much less one who had only just told him they were related.
Yet what he knew of what faith could do seemed to tell him otherwise. Still, the tan lion regarded Wakia only with an air of something akin to indifference. He had told him the truth, and now it was up to Wakia to accept it or not. Azarax knew what such news meant. He had experienced it before, and he knew that acceptance did not always come in the blink of an eye, as it had with Jua.
"Yes, I am." He said finally, in reply to the other's stunned question. He felt tempted to say more, but he held back. Perhaps in a time like this, more words would do worse than less.
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Posted: Thu Mar 13, 2008 5:38 pm
"Your name, what is your name," He stammered ignoring the thoughts of killing him, a brother..one he never knew of. His mind reeled a mixture of hatred and confusion, she had told him to stay away from the rebels, but one of his own flesh and blood, one that looked as he looked, even if he had cream colored fur.
"I cannot..you..he.." the storyteller just stood their speechless babbling incoherently, "Brother."
"We both have four paws, two eyes, and a heart, and that is all I need to know. I am assuming you were cast off because of your pelt?" Wakia shook his orange growing mane away from his face and looked closer at this lion, his brother.
Taking a breath he leaned forward and pressed his cheek against the other male's, an act that would either help heal his mind, or scar his body depending on his brother's reacted, "Brothers," he whispered, "I am no fighter."
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Posted: Fri Mar 14, 2008 2:58 am
"I am Azarax," He said in reply to Wakia's question. He could see in the dark lion mirrored the same confusion as he had felt the day he had met Ripuka and she had told him everything.
Yet he could see, too, that the dark lion seemed to be coming around far quicker than he had. Inwardly he allowed himself to be amused by the thought that he perhaps was far more stubborn than any of his family. But perhaps that, too, was just testament to how he had grown up.
He glanced back as Wakia's words drew him back. "That's what I was told," He returned, glancing down at his paws to catch a glimpse of the coat in question in spite of himself. "But Ripuka could tell you more about it than I," He added dryly, and he realized then that he still harbored some small grudge within him. That he hadn't yet fully come to terms with his abandonment where he thought he had long ago.
But perhaps there was no way for him to ever truly accept what had happened until he could understand what true, unconditional love was - be it for family, or even for a goddess. Though he knew of its existence, he did not believe in it as others did. For him, it was nothing much more than a myth. He did know know what it really meant, nor did he know what it could manifest itself as.
So he was completely taken aback as his brother leaned forward and pressed his cheek against his. He stiffened, and for a moment he had an overwhelming urge to leap back and lash out. For he had grown up always associating touch to punishment and pain. Uzulu had never treated him like the slaves and so had never had him beaten for anything, but he had seen it often enough. That was enough to drive the thought into his head.
Yet he held himself there, and gradually he felt the maddening urge to move away dim, and fade. "Nor I," He said finally. "At least not by choice. I would not fight if I could help it."
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Posted: Fri Mar 14, 2008 5:08 pm
Wakia could not explain his urge to feel the brother he never knew,he felt a complete self loathing having pushed his own brother, but it was in defense he had to justify that to himself, he was saving himself that's all. "I...do not know what to believe anymore, this..this is hard, and how will I look at her the same?" Wakia murmured refusing to pull away too quickly he did not know the next time he would see this brother, would he be able to come live with them? Of course not, he was raised a slave..and still was.
He withdrew slowly taking in a deep breath and kept his eyes focused on Azarax's face. "I wish you...well I can't make heads or tails of this really, All this time you have been out their and...and Jua was right! She had felt another body so many moons ago, you, you were there!" he exclaimed loudly his voice echoing in the dunes, his ears peeled back a mixture of confusion and excitement. There was no way he would ever be welcomed in Wakia's home openly, not without letting the secret slip..but what would they do? He could not go back to a life of knowing this male was out there, and that he was never informed, Wakia lived for information and this was the biggest misdeed of all to him.
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Posted: Sat Mar 15, 2008 4:16 am
Azarax knew that, in a way, his brother's faith had been destroyed. He felt guilt threading its way into his conscience - who was he to simply barge in and take away everything Wakia had ever known? - and yet, was that not what he had set out to do in the first place? It was not necessarily faith in Finar-si, nor was his goal to ruin happy lives, but change. Change was what he wanted, any change at all, and though he wished that somehow this could all have happened without Ripuka surfacing as the bad guy, he knew that as long as there was some change, more change would come.
But there was no stopping the guilt, because he knew that he had just made the lives of three other lions infinitely more difficult. They would all have to somehow figure out how to cope with all this that was happening. And they would do it all differently, he knew that. For with Azarax, his survival depended most on his strength, his blind anger. He could already tell that Wakia, at least, was not like him in that aspect. His brother was not a fighter, he could see that too.
"It will come," He said softly, nodding slightly. He did not know how to deal with confusion, be it in somebody else or himself. He could only tell Wakia what he knew - that acceptance would come sooner or later. But it was up to him whether or not he really wanted to believe.
"Sooner or later, it will come. And when it happens, you'll be able to ask her about it and what she tells you won't confuse you," He was still waiting for that time to come.
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Posted: Sun Mar 16, 2008 12:41 pm
"I am bound by my words to her to harm any rebel, but how can I harm a brother, or even trust that binding pact, when she has not trusted me with the information of you.." he looked over Azzie's pelt and mane, they looked so much alike that it was uncanny no one had ever noticed before, but then again firekins were blind to color alone and that was it.
"I should leave my brother..be well and safe, if you need anything...I can try to provide it for you, I know that is not much and I know that you probably are more capable than I to get it for you, but it's what I have." In a way he was slowly realizing that his brother was far more free than he was, that his brother was free of the religious oppression that pulled down upon him in every action of his life.
You are free, and I wish that I was as well, it will take so long to make sense of this, make a space for this in my mind.
"I will go, I don't want to betray my pact with our mother, but I do not want to harm you either, take care if you can, and stay safe so that my heart can be at some type of ease."
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