The HaRT Knight Decaverse

Heir of Magic

Chapter 23

The Twin Chieftains

Alexander sat on the edge of the cliff of the mesa that served as the walls of the Palace of the Pride. He stared out over the grasslands where a herd of gazelle loped in front of the setting sun that painted the sky shades of pink and orange.
“Beautiful, isn’t it?” said Dante from behind him.
“Dante!” Alexander exclaimed as he leaped to his feet. “What are you doing up? You should still be in bed.”
“I’m fine, My Prince,” Dante said. He kicked out with one leg. “The crick in my right knee is even better. I believe I have you to thank.”
“I used the phoenix tears. Here Dante, take a seat at least,” Alexander said.
“My Prince, I told you, I’m fine,” Dante said, laughing but still allowing Alexander to force him to take a seat.
“Dante, I—” Alexander cut off. He wanted to say it had been his fault the wizard was hurt. He wanted to say how frustrated he was, that had didn’t know how he was supposed to defeat Cain and save all of Primoris when he couldn’t even defeat a few oversized arachnids to save his friends. He felt so unbelievably frustrated, so much was expected of him and he wasn’t sure he could live up to those expectations. Alexander wanted to say all of this, but he didn’t want the wizard to think he was whining. So, instead, he said, “I don’t know what I would have done if I lost you.”
“But you haven’t. I’m still here and alive, thanks to you.” Dante gave him a bright smile that caused the wrinkles at the corners of his eyes to crinkle. “You did well, My Prince.”
Alexander gave the wizard a grateful smile but didn’t know what else he could say. Instead, he just enjoyed the peaceful moment with his mentor as the two of them sat and watched the sunset.
When the last bit of light was swallowed by the horizon, Alexander said, “I suppose it’s time.”
Dante nodded and the two of them made their way back into the heart of the Palace of the Pride. Laughter and applause filled the air as they approached the village square where the people of the pride had gathered around a gigantic fire. Two female pride warriors performed a battle dance that involved some intricate and complicated pyroturgy to the rhythmic beat of the tribal drums. The flames the two women were magically manipulating took the shape of a dragon and phoenix, and as the two of them danced, the fiery beasts flew at one another in a simulation of combat.
“You will sit there next to Temba and Mosi,” Chaka said to them and gesturing to where Merrick was waiting, fidgeting nervously.
“Aren’t you going to sit with us?” Alexander asked.
Chaka smiled at Alexander and shook his head. “Sorry, no. I’m required to sit with my father.”
As Chaka strode off, Alexander shrugged and moved to sit next to Merrick, who jumped nervously and snapped, “Where the bloody Tartos have you been?”
“Dante and I were talking,” Alexander explained.
At first, it looked like Merrick wanted to say something in retort, but he was cut off by the roar of fire that flew over their heads as the phoenix and dragon went at it again. The phoenix clawed viciously at the dragon’s head as it attacked, but the dragon got a strike in with its deadly tail that sent the bird flying backward. Before the bird could recover itself, the dragon was on top of it sinking its fangs. The phoenix exploded into thousands of embers that rained down to the ground and the dancer sank to her knees, looking ashamed and defeated, but just as the dragon spread its wings and threw back its head in victory, the rain of embers exploded into a blaze and from it flew the phoenix, reformed. The phoenix caught the dragon off-guard and with its deadly talons, killed its foe. The fiery form of the dragon fell to the ground, withering away into smoke.
Alexander, who had been completely captivated by the performance, snapped back to reality as the pride members stood and applauded.
“Thank you, Sheba and Zuberi for that wonderful rendition of the Dance of the Phoenix and Dragon,” Chief Dieba said. He waited for the applause to die down before he said, “Tonight, is a happy occasion. Tonight, we welcome two new members into our family, Alexander Angelus and Merrick the Wolf.” The people of the pride cheered and literally roared their approval. “Before we welcome you as members of the pride, tradition states that we must tell a tale of our past, one that pertains to the individuals in whose honor the nights celebration is held. I had a story picked out years in advance, the tale of when Angelus Primus came to our ancestors as his descendant now comes to us. But recent events have forced me to reconsider. For tonight, we no longer just welcome one new member to the tribe, but two. But also, because of the events that took place earlier today that many of you already know of. The tale I tell tonight is one of the most important to the people of the pride. The tale of the twin chieftains.”
As Dieba said the last word, the fire in the middle of the village square changed and deep in the flames, Alexander could see the image of two pride warriors, one with fur as white as snow, the other as black as night.

Our tale begins in a time long past, a time that has become nothing more than legend to most beings. It was during the time of the first ever chief of the pride, Chief Chaka. Believed by many as the wisest of all rulers during this era, he loved his people above all else, and frequently proved his willingness to die for them. He had fought in the war of the prime along with our cousins against the Trozian King, Fulmineus; he led our people to battle against Dasmoden’s forces in the war for this world, and he even led the wars against the Jötunn, hunting them into extinction.
However, even the mighty Chief Chaka was not invulnerable to the wear of time. He had grown old and frail and still had no heir. But just as the village elders were fighting over who should take Chief Chaka’s place, a phoenix arrived with a promise of two sons that would be born before the next year. As always, the phoenix prophecy came true. On the last day of that year, the chief’s new wife gave birth to twin sons, one as black as the starless sky and the other as white as freshly fallen snow. The chief named them Ata, the dark brother, and Akwere, the pale brother.
As chief Chaka’s flame of life continued to burn away, the twins grew strong and powerful. They were as different in appearance as they were in personality, but strange enough, their differences are exactly what made them so similar. The people rarely saw the two brothers out of each other’s company, and soon people said they seemed to be two halves of the same person, each completing the other. They got along better than fish and water, approaching everything as a game between them.
This great friendship between his sons pleased Chief Chaka, but it was also a cause of great dismay, for the Chief was growing ill and he would soon need to name his successor. Too often the Chief had seen royal families tear each other apart for the right to the crown, and in the process, destroyed the very kingdom they fought so hard for. Chief Chaka was determined to do what was right for the people of the pride, and so, he came up with a plan: he devised a series of tests to see which of the two boys was better suited to rule.
When Ata and Akwere reached manhood, Chief Chaka declared that there was to be a competition of intellect, for he believed the most important trait of a ruler was intelligence. The two sons were to play a game that chief Chaka had gotten from the god of knowledge, Adagnitio himself. What Adagnitio gave the chief was the game Bellatori. The complex game involved the use of stones, cards, and dice to combine intellect, skill, and luck, and a game between two gifted players could last for months. Even today, only the greatest scholars can play it. And so, the day of the competition came, and the twins faced off against each other in their game of Bellatori. Move after move, hour after hour, they played, each knowing exactly what the other was thinking even before he could think it. It is said that the two brothers played the game for three weeks before it ended in a stalemate. Three more times they played, and three more times no winner emerged. Ata and Akwere were equal in intelligence, and thus, no winner was decided by this competition. So, the Chief was content that, no matter who became chief, the pride would get an intelligent ruler.
The next test Chaka devised was a test in strength of body, will, and character. The chief summoned his sons to the foot of the cliff where they each found a painted boulder waiting for them. The task was simple in directive but difficult in execution. The chief of the pride would be the first to get their boulder up the face of the cliff. The two brothers laughed and treated it as just another one of their games. It was said those present were in complete silence the entire time they saw the amazing sight of the two brothers racing up the cliff with two boulders tied around their waists. To everyone’s great surprise, this test did not take long at all, for the two brothers reached the top of the cliff without difficulty within an hour. But once again, they proved themselves equal as they reached the top at the same time. Once again, the test ended in a stalemate and Chaka still couldn’t make a clear choice for his successor.
But Chief Chaka had one last test for his sons. They were each given a flame to keep alive and told to wander into the desert, Ata to the north, and Akwere to the south. They were to remain in the desert for two months, surviving on their own and keeping their flames alive. In this time of hardship, they also had to develop a new pyroturgy technique that would be of the most use to their people. When they returned, the elders would vote on whose technique was the best and it would decide a new chief.
And so, time passed slowly as the two brothers were gone, and in their absence, their father’s health worsened and many feared he would die before their return. But Chief Chaka survived to see his sons walk back into the Palace of the Pride. Each brother claimed to have learned the true nature of fire, and from that, to have developed the ultimate pyroturgy technique. All the people of the pride gathered for the demonstrations, with the elders ready to judge a clear winner. A flock of phoenixes even arrived as the sun began to set, and the demonstrations were about to start.
First was Ata who raised the flame he had nursed for two months before him and declared his technique the Nero Fire. The flame turned as black as Ata’s fur. With a flick of his wrist, the flame shot forth to a nearby tree, and the instant the black flame touched the surface of the tree, it spread with unnatural speed, engulfing everything it touched and almost instantaneously turning everything; it touched into ash. Nothing could stop it, not stone, water, or even other flames. Only Ata had control over it, and only he could stop it. The first of the twin brothers had returned with the ultimate destructive pyroturgy technique. A weapon that would allow the pride to always protect themselves from its enemies, whoever they may be. All were in awe of the spectacle of the destructive power and the only person to applaud louder than Chief Chaka, was Akwere who stepped forward to take his turn.
Akwere named his technique the Flame’s Embrace. The fire in his hand turned white as snow before covering his entire body. As bright and hot as the white flames were, they brought no harm to Akwere. In fact, they allowed him to move so fast he became a blur. With his fist alone, he could punch through stone, and any projectile launched at him were burnt to ash before it could touch him. The Flame’s Embrace would protect the people of the pride from anything that could bring them harm.
Again, the people cheered, and again, none more so than the twin who watched his brother’s achievement. As Chaka watched the faces of the village elders, he knew, that once again, his sons had proven to be too equally matched. But this time, the twins came to the aid of their father.
They both stepped back into the middle of the village square and declared that they had brought back one more technique. They brought their flames together, and the white and black became one. The Golden Flash, they called it, the true spirit of fire.
They sent the golden flame racing at the wall of the mesa that surrounded the village. With a mighty explosion, The Golden Flash tore through the mesa, leaving behind the cavern of molten gold that remains liquid and retains its shape to this day.
The twin brothers declared that they would rule together, like the dual nature of fire itself, the pride needed two rulers to keep each other in balance. Since that day, there has always been two chiefs of the pride. Chosen by the village elders as the two who most represent the dual nature of fire.
This is where our tale would usually end, for what happened next has never pertained to any who came of age or who joined the pride. It could not, for not until today has it been fulfilled.
Chief Chaka had just accepted his decision of his sons to rule together, when the phoenixes who watched the events took to the air and flew around the village in a spiral. From out the flock, one bird landed between Ata and Akwere. As far as we know, this was the very first and last time ever that two people could hear the same phoenix prophecy. Both of the brothers heard the final song of that phoenix and passed it down in the pride until the day came when the prophecy was fulfilled:

Listen to my song, you brothers great,
for it tells of your people’s fate.
What you’ve learned you must now hide away
Until the Heir of Magic comes one day.
He will be the balance of the light;
with your techniques, he will be the next to fight.
He will have feathers and tears, just like mine.
This will come to pass in the Phoenix King’s time.