Ligi.
He was to be a Ligi now.
The young lion had, of course, agreed with his mother’s decision. He would to anything she asked, everything she wanted of him he would struggle until it was fulfilled. Anything. No matter what it was, no matter how he felt about it. Even this he would do…but this was the one thing he had ever tried to protest. All the training she had given him, the lessons he’d fought to learn and practiced over and over until he could respond to her instructions with the closest to perfection anyone could have ever come. His cubhood had been filled with hard work, with preparations, and his ears had been filled with the whispers of the Chosen One. He knew it would become true, he’d hoped it would be something he could help bring about. Sahen frightened him, the rule of the Shatkona a terrifying tyranny that held the pride in a tight grip of bloodied claws. Whose blood? Anyone’s.
And the Ligi enforced it. Now…now he would be expected to as well.
Kayin, with bowed head and the adoration in his voice replaced with quiet respect alone had excused himself from the den. He’d wandered down from the face of the weeping lion, avoiding the mouth as much as possible. Sahen he’d never truly met, shyness the only excuse ever offered when they had seen one another, whether it was a visit to or by his mother, or just in passing. How someone could be so cruel…Kay didn’t understand. Suffering wailed all around them, grief and fear and pain etched into the features of what should have been a flourishing world. And he did nothing to help. Nothing at all but drive his fangs deeper and deeper into the life of his people.
Now Kay was to be an extension of that? Was he to be the fangs bared and the claws bloodied?
Or would he get lucky and become a mere bodyguard? He’d heard the Shatkona had acquired heirs of his own now, though Kayin had practically gone out of his way to avoid them. Would they be just the same as their ancestor? Harsh and unforgiving of even the slightest transgression? His paws trembled slightly as the young lion allowed himself to give in to his emotions. What was he going to do? How was he going to fufil his mother’s wishes when everything within him screamed and cried, begging for release, pleading that this not be his lot.
He’d dreamed, quietly, of aiding the Chosen One or even, when he was feeling particularly bold, being the brave lion’s right-paw warrior. A friend of the Chosen One, the one who watched his back and guarded his life with his own. Now that was never going to happen, no one would speak to him of that now, save perhaps his brothers. Not that he’d had many friends at all, oh no. He’d been far too busy with his work for that, clawing out a destiny that he’d always dreamed would be on the side of peace and kindness under the watchful eyes of his beloved mother. As the son of the Mwanasheria he’d never experienced first-hand what could happen to a cub in this pride. His stomach had never been cramped and tight with hunger, he’d never seen a sibling or parent killed by a Ligi or spent a night in terror wondering if he would ever see the sun rise again. When he’d been a little cub, he had hardly even known these things were possible. The warnings to be careful had been heeded, of course, as was everything that Indira had said to him. It wasn’t until his mane had begun to come in that he’d learned, from his few furtive ventures from the Eye, what the world could be.
It frightened him, though still no harm had come to him from it. No Ligi ever mauled him, no starvation ever dogged his paws. But he knew too clearly now what it could be like, he’d seen it with his own two eyes. As something near to First Blood, he’d never feel the claws of the Ligi like that, never quiver under the tyranny of Sahen. But he had seen it. He knew how wrong it was.
How was he supposed to enforce it?
The young lion’s breath caught in his throat, a soft whimper spilling from his lips instead of the sigh he’d expected. What was he going to do? No, that wasn’t the question. He knew what he would do. He would follow his mother’s wishes, whatever she asked of him he would preform to the best of his ability. But this hurt. It frightened him more than he wanted to admit, and he felt like falling apart knowing what it would mean to serve the Shatkona as a Ligi.
What would Kafele think?
Kayin settled back onto his haunches, his breathing thicker than he wanted it to be as he looked around himself. Somehow his paws had carried him back to where he’d first met the Atmaja cub. There was the rock pile Kafe had pounced onto him from. Over there was the tree they’d raced to climb. Abruptly his eyes burned, his throat going tight. Kafe…he would hate him, wouldn’t he. His family did not like Sahen, and the red cub had once let this slip to him, purely by accident but it had happened nonetheless. And Kayin had sworn never to tell. Sworn in blood, for they had become brothers that day.
Slowly he lifted a paw to touch the spot on his chin. Beneath the dark stripe of brown on his pale tan fur was a small scar, the remains of a scrape he’d acquired the first day they played together. Kafe had been laughing and joking and the truth had slipped out before he realized. When he’d snarled it had startled Kayin, but now that he knew what the Shatkona could do he understood. If his family had been in danger, surely he would have done the same? If anyone found out their true heritage…if it became known that they were the children of a rogue lioness and not Indira’s true sons at all… it was her name alone that protected them. Her words that they were her own flesh and blood.
“I promise Kafe…” the young lion whispered softly, the white mane that fell over his soft blue eyes when he bowed his head reminding him strongly of his best friend. His only friend. Kafe had said they looked like when first they’d met, with their eyes and manes matching so closely, and the brown of his fur like the other cub’s sister. They could almost have been related before they became blood brothers. Would Kafele be glad of their similar appearences now?
Probably not. Kafe and his family hated the Shatkona. That Kay was a Ligi… he could never tell Kafele the reason why his mother asked this of him. He couldn’t betray the secrets that weren’t his to share. But…maybe…maybe someday Kafele would understand. Maybe, when the Chosen One had come and Sahen been banished…maybe his friend would give him the chance to explain. Please, please let him understand…
“…I will never betray you. Never.”
(word count, 1,209)
