“This,” his sister took another breath. He counted it as longer than the first. “This is not the time for this argument. Not while you straddle a woman’s corpse.”
“Molash sister.” The power granted to their ancestors and inherited by their line was useful in moments like these. Lightly, he touched the forehead of his conquest with his index and middle fingers and slowly trailed it down.
“All things flee death but to it, all things return, for death is the household of man and life is his Visitor. Embrace the Visitor, accept the visitor, but remember the Visitor is a visitor – and soon,” He stopped his fingers over her heart.
“The visitation will end.”
Piece by piece, inch, by inch, her body faded into light. Sparkles of dust, sprinkles of brilliant glitter, all of it rushing forth into Wukari, absorbing itself into his nostrils. Once the process was done, there was nothing left of the woman, and Wukari’s muscles pulsed. His face smoothed, his hair regained luster and a brilliant sheen, his eyes sparkled brighter, and his physique thinned.
Wukari gestured to the empty bed. “Now, sit.”
“No, brother,” said Kwana. “While you have been busy, I have been gathering information. As there are no Kings of any sort in Alhamis, the prophecy cannot be speaking of this country. The Holy Empire of Maris to the West, possesses an Emperor, the Gaban Kingdom to the East possesses a dynasty, and the Saba’in Raiders far north have a Chief. I believe we will find him in one of these three places.”
“So you say, sister.”
Kwana crossed her arms. “Bana’s prophecies have never been wrong.”
Wukari’s lips curled. “Nor have I ever believed otherwise. Yet, she has never been so vague.”
“It is due to powers beyond her. Seeing this prophecy was as attempting to find one grain of wheat in the Zing Fields.”
“So she says.”
Kwana’s lips thinned. “You have no qualms believing in her prophecies when it comes to ensuring that you have no bastard children who will one day rise to destroy the Kingdom, but now that the prophecy hints at your dethronement, you refuse to believe it?”
“Little sister, how can I? From birth, I was told my destiny was to become King of Takum. The stars aligned, Seven Sages came from the Beyonds and whispered to father’s ears that I would be the King of Kings, He Who Shall Rule Supreme. Now, an old, senile woman with one eye narrates that the Sages were wrong – destiny has been shifted, and a new King has arisen from oblivion to displace me. To displace, all.”
Wukari laughed. “Perhaps it is time to end Bana’s visitation before she spouts more nonsense. The old woman has outstayed her welcome.”
Something struck him. Wukari realized that his face was turned to the side. Only slowly did the stinging occur, and only then did he notice his sister’s outstretched palm.
“Do not speak ill of our Seer, Wukari. I will not stand for it.”
A low growl rumbled from his throat. The sound was animalistic, primal. Kwana did not flinch. She stared straight at him, never flinching. He restrained his growl. He lulled the beast within him to sleep. He commanded it to heel. He chained it to the grounds of his thought and stomped on its jaws dribbling with venom. Within his mind, he recited his mantra. He remembered his purpose.
I am the Prince of Takum. I am a just and fair ruler. I shall be the King all Kings will hold in respect. I am the Lion that stands at the hill on the Savannah. I will guard my Pride and oversee my Kingdom. I will slay my enemies and protect my lioness. I will curb my hunger and fight to conquer. I am the Prince. I am the Lion. I am the heart of Takum.
He controlled his breathing. Curbed the beast lingering to be released at the slight. Sedated it, stroking its chin until it lulled itself to sleep. The sting from his sister’s slap meant nothing to him. Yet, he was to be King. A King that would let an insult go without punishment was not proper.
“Look at you – so courageous, sister. I miss the days when all I had to do to make you scared was touch you.”
His hand moved to her. She flinched. He could not hear her breathing. Her chest stopped moving. Wukari allowed his lips the smile of a King. “The little girl who would whimper when I guided my fingers up her thighs has grown into such a fine, beautiful woman.”
Kwana didn’t respond. Wukari could feel the heat lingering behind her gaze. The sensation of burning that dawdled and confronted him, every single inch of him almost completely engulfed in fire, burning and begging for a quenching droplet of water. Still defiant. Still ablaze. Even aware that all he needed to do was touch her to reduce her to specks of stardust and end her visitation, she would mask her fear with a cowl of loathing.
Wukari brought his hand down, smiling. “Such a beautiful woman you are, little sister.”
Her chest moved again. Her breath resumed. Her gaze did not quench. Words would not leave her lips. Backward was the only direction her steps could echo. Until they echoed no more.
The door slammed shut. Wukari could still feel the heat in the room. He could still feel the loitering warmth and sensation of burning, all of which had accumulated on a single spot, throbbing with renewed warmth.
Sleep would not be coming for him this night. Wukari reached for his robes and began to dress, his tongue running slowly across his upper lips. A King’s wrath and his passion were two sides of the same coin. Kwana had sent the coin into the air. It
