Issue #93 (August 2018) Written by Jake Hawkins Featuring:
T'Challa
"Journey of a Prince"
FIFTEEN YEARS AGO BIRNIN ZANA, WAKANDA THE ROYAL PALACE
King S'Yan sifted through his thoughts in the throne room, watching as the golden city lit up the night as only it could. The view from where he stood never ceased to mesmerize him, no matter how many times he was in the exact same spot. It reminded him of what he had to fight for, of why he was profoundly fortunate to be born Wakandan. So often he had heard people speak of the elegance and unmatched beauty of cities such as Paris, New York, or Los Angeles. If only those very same people could see the sight in front of him now.
"King S'Yan, you seem to be at a loss." S'Yan turned to see his chief advisor, Zuri walking into the room and joining the King at the window.
"Why would you assume such a thing?" S'Yan breathed with a heavy sigh, his many troubles at the moment seemingly etched into his face.
"I see the conflict you struggle with. It is clear to anyone with your heart. You wonder if now is the proper time to honor your brother's wishes." Zuri closed his eyes and said a quick prayer to Bast in honor of T'Chaka before raising his eyes back to the city. "You assume I see weakness in you for this struggle. Please know my King, that I do not see an ounce of it."
"There is just far too much turbulence to be sending him out there. What would become of Wakanda's future should we lose the Prince?" S'Yan roared, the war raging within him finally being released. "How could I face my brother in the Djalia knowing his sacrifice would be for nothing?"
S'Yan hangs his head as his hands turn to fists, his frustrations at the trials he had been through coming to a head.
"You need to have some trust in not only yourself, but your brother and me as well. All of us, even Hunter, though we forced him from time to time, have been preparing them since they could walk for this moment. For T'Challas journey to become who this country will need to continue its way of existence. You stand here feeling the very weight your forefather's bore, you know that we cannot deny the Prince this passage, no matter how unique the circumstances surrounding him may be." Zuri's words rang throughout the throne room, and S'Yan felt a pain in his heart as he realized his course was becoming clearer.
"Where is the Prince now?" S'Yan asked, finally raising his head once again.
Hunter and T'Challa stood in the holographic forest generated around them, circling each other as they both breathed heavily. Bruises adorned both their bodies from the vibranium bo staffs they had been sparring with, each refusing to relent no matter what blow they took from the other. T'Challa looked ready to drop yet maintained his defensive stance as they circled each other, refusing to take his eyes off his brother.
"You have improved quite a bit while I've been away." Hunter goaded T'Challa as he prepared for another attack. "I see you've also made quite a few adjustments to the palace training facility. I wonder if that whooping I gave you before my last mission has had you overexerting yourself?"
T'Challa was sick of the talk. It was what Hunter did best to get your mind off the fight and give him the mental edge. He had done too much in the last sixteen months since he last saw his brother to prepare for this moment. The hours of wind sprints through Alkama fields, the tireless training sessions in this very room with W'kabi. How many times had Zuri scolded them for sparring under twice the earth's normal gravity? How many times had he vomited after running for miles through the mountains near Birnin Azzuri? He would not let his efforts be in vain. He would win this battle, and then the next.
T'Challa lunged forward throwing a sweep kick that Hunter leaped over effortlessly. The Prince didn't cease his attack there, spinning and smacking Hunter across the jaw with his staff. Hunter spat a wad of blood from the attack but almost instantly returned the favor, nailing T'Challa in the chest with a standing dropkick that sent him backwards tumbling across the artificial ground. Hunter rushed at his brother, smacking him in the throat with a chop before driving his foot into his chest and pinning him on the ground with a forceful stomp maneuver.
"Yield." Hunter instructed his brother with a smirk, his staff on T'Challas throat. Suddenly the jungle around them began to disappear and was replaced with the massive training room. The doors to the room slid open as King S'Yan and Zuri entered.
Hunter quickly took his foot off the prince and stood at attention as his adopted uncle approached the pair of them. T'Challa got to his feet, fuming at the results of the battle.
"T'Challa, you are supposed to be packing. I suggest you go do as you were told!" Zuri barked, and the absolutely seething at this point Prince marched out of the room without another word. The doors sliding closed behind him.
"How did he do?" S'Yan asked Hunter as he watched his nephew go.
"His combat skills have grown faster than any warrior I've seen come through the war dogs program in quite some time. The boy has earned three PhD's already, so at this point is just a matter of melding his natural instincts and unrivaled intelligence together. He will be quite the force, King S'Yan." Hunter admitted begrudgingly as he grabbed a towel from one of the palace assistants.
"He is ready for his journey?" S'Yan questioned as the three of them headed out of the room and towards the central briefing station utilized by the Hatut Zeraze before receiving assignments.
"I suppose." Hunter answered coyly as they entered through another set of doors and paused in the back. The nineteen-year old Okoye led a novice class of future Dora Milaje in the room usually reserved for the war dogs.
"What do you mean, you suppose?" The rather annoyed Zuri asked Hunter in a hushed whisper.
"T'Challa spends too much time worrying about the connotations of his next move instead of the effectiveness. This sort of weakness of the mind could end up costing him his life or the lives of others."
“And you see this as a weakness, a hinderance?” Zuri questioned with a raised eye.
“You don’t? The two of you are awfully eager to send my brother to his grave it would seem.” Hunter spat back, annoyed at their line of questioning distracting him.
"Watch your tongue Hunter." S'Yan said as he took control of the situation. "The boy has his mother's heart. How much does this realm owe N'Yami due to her own compassion and steady patience? We will not hold such a thing against him."
They all turned their attention back to the class and its instructor as Okoye was wrapping up her lecture.
"Throughout the history of our nation and the crown, the women of Wakanda have always been its pillars. No position, no honor exemplifies this more than the post of adored one. We are the backbone of our country. Never forget this when you find yourself considering the magnitude of your duties." With a wave Okoye dismissed the group of girls gathered from the various villages of Wakanda to be the next line of Doras.
S'Yan and Zuri approached Okoye as Hunter slid back out the way they came. "Intomba, the wisdom of Bast grows within you. Have you finished your preparations?" The proud King asked after embracing his daughter.
"Yes Baba, I finished packing this morning." Okoye told her father, much to his delight as he beamed brightly at his only child.
"Beloved, the future of our way of life will be under your protection, your watchful gaze. I remind you of this not to intimidate or burden you, but so that you know just how much faith our nation places in you on this day. You have earned this honor Okoye." Zuri said as he opened a small, velvet case with a newly forged badge inside. The badge's design was elegant yet timeless, the Wakandan Flag itself reflected in its color scheme and the mark of the panther's claw indicated Okoye's newly assigned rank.
"Okoye, Daughter of S'Yan and Zania, you are hereby granted the position General of the Dora Milaje." Zuri pinned the badge to the standard adored one uniform that she wore as Okoye did everything she could to hold back her tears. She knew that a warrior was not supposed to shed a tear, especially in a moment such as this one.
"You have spent hours studying, training, and most importantly of all teaching to get you to this point. You have earned this, intomba." S'Yan said as he embraced his daughter, and finally Okoye gave up the effort as tears streamed down her face and soaked into her father's dashiki. They broke apart as Okoye quickly wiped away her tears, a look of fierce determination now upon her face.
Elsewhere in the palace, T'Challa sat at his workbench as he programmed his latest invention on a rather unique laptop. The doors to his private workshop slid open and his uncle entered silently.
"Your knack for forging your own path grows by the day." S'Yan said as he took a seat behind where T'Challa was working. He gazed around the room, marveling at the endless number of projects the Prince had in various stages of development. Finally, he turned his eyes to the bruises T'Challa had picked up during his earlier sparring session with his brother. "Are you so determined to best your brother that you would punish yourself just to achieve your goals?"
T'Challa finally stopped typing on the computer and turned around to face his uncle. "I don't punish myself to pass him. I don't see my actions through the lens that you do."
"You rarely sleep, you barely have time for meals unless I force you to stay in one place long enough to eat. If your head isn't in a book than you're either here or training with W'kabi for hours on end. What will you do when your body has finally had enough?" The King reasoned with his nephew as he stood up and crossed the room to where he sat.
"If my body and mind aren't strong enough to endure the burdens I place on them now, what kind of King would I be in the future? Would I even be worthy of the crown?" T'Challa asked himself moreso than the King before returning to his work.
King S'Yan watched his nephew closely, amazed at the young man he had become. He hadn't had the pleasure of meeting the wonderful woman his mother was, yet he had seen the very same diligence and perseverance in N'Yami. His time with his father was cut short, but the boy's sense of duty was something past King's would be proud to see budding inside of the realm's future.
"I know how badly you want to take this journey. However-"
"You don't want me to leave. I understand." T'Challa interrupted his uncle without taking his eyes off the computer.
"How did you know that?" S'Yan asked, a note of amusement in his voice.
"Hunter told me. He said I was too soft-hearted for the world outside Wakanda." T'Challa answered, his anger at Hunter's word's festering inside him.
"Your brother, for all the good he does for the realm, can be a very short-sighted man. You mustn't let his inability to see the broader strokes deter you from the path you are on. You must not let anger or pride drive you. Let your duty and the love you have for your people be what propels you through anything that may be in your path." S'Yan said as he placed a hand on his nephew's shoulder.
T'Challa stopped working again and looked up at his uncle. "Malume, I know you fear for me leaving from under your gaze. But I want you to know that I am ready. I have done everything I can to reflect you and Zuri's teachings in the way I live my life. But one cannot grow without the experiences necessary to. Those were the very same words I once heard you tell Hunter. I am now asking you allow me that same room to grow."
S'Yan couldn't help but beam proudly as he saw the man his nephew was on the road to becoming, and in that moment all his reservations seemed to float away. "You, W'Kabi, and the newly appointed General of the Dora's will depart from here tomorrow. Do you have any idea where you will go first?"
THE VERY NEXT DAY T'CHALLA'S QUINJET SOMEWHERE OVER AFRICA
W'kabi steered the jet while monitoring the scanners for any signs of trouble, the beauty of the sunrise keeping him company. Behind him Okoye watched over the Prince's shoulder as he viewed various clips of footage taken by Wakandan spies from their current destination.
"Why there of all places, my Prince? I figured you would want to go as far from home as possible." Okoye asked, confused by T'Challas choice.
"There will be plenty of time for that cousin, and since when did you call me Prince?" T'Challa teased as she punched him in the shoulder. "I want to visit places where the immense resources at our disposal can better the lives of people in need. For too long Wakanda has refused to lend a hand to those who share our skin. How can we carry ourselves with any sort of pride if we turn our backs on our brothers and sisters, regardless of what borders they may have been born in?” The Prince explained as he was lost deep in thought.
Okoye studied her cousin as he jotted down notes on his kimoyo card. She never knew he had such conflicting notions about the way of life they had learned from infancy. But what truly troubled her is that she couldn’t find any fault in what he was preaching. She wondered what her father would think if he heard such notions from the future King.
“Prince T’Challa, we have reached the base.” W’Kabi informed the pair of them as he sat the Quinjet down on the Kenyan Air Force base. They were approached by a pair of soldiers being led forward by an older man who struggled to keep pace ahead of his subordinates as they stepped off the jet.
"Prince T'Challa, my name is General Natori Okello. It is my honor to welcome you to Nairobi." The young Prince shakes hands with General Okello before they begin to tour the base.
"I appreciate the generosity you have shown by allowing us to leave our aircraft here General Okello. It would be far more prudent for any potential enemies of Wakanda to be unaware of my presence in your country." T'Challa explained as he scanned the base curiously.
"We have waited a long time to find out if the rumors that you and your people even existed were true. We had heard the gripes and complaints from the Nigandans for decades about the great Alkama fields seizure, but of course it isn't very wise to trust anything that comes out of M'butus mouth." Natori joked as they reached the limousine awaiting the three Wakandans.
"If there is anything you may need while you are here, please do not hesitate to contact us." Natori told T'Challa as he shook hands with all three of them just before a private rushed over to where he stood.
"General Natori, there's been another attack near Uhuru Park!" The private told the General as he gasped for breath.
"If you'll excuse me." Natori rushed off as fast as his body would allow as his guest got into their limo and pulled away.
"What do you suppose that could have been about?" W'kabi wondered aloud as he took in the sights of the Kenyan capital during their ride.
"Let us see if we can find out." T'Challa answered as he pulled his kimoyo card from the breast pocket of his button-down shirt. After a moment of searching, T'Challa transferred the footage from the news broadcast he had hacked to his kimoyo band, which in turn emitted the video for his companions to view as well.
(*Translated from Swahili)
*"There has been another bombing, this time in Uhuru Park that is said to have destroyed a large chunk of the area as well as the surrounding neighborhood. Emergency services are currently doing everything they can to evacuate any survivors that may have been caught in the blast as they await assistance from the National Defense force. " The new's anchor continued as W'kabi looked out the window of their limousine and saw smoke filling the air in the distance.
"Apparently this is the twelfth attack like this in the last three months. The number of victims has risen drastically from case to case." Okoye said as she studied the reports T'Challa had pulled up with his kimoyo band.
"And no one has any idea why these attacks are happening? Not a single idea?" W'kabi asked with a look of incredulous shock, unable to comprehend how such terror could be flooding a country with no inkling who the perpetrators could be.
"Let us table this discussion for now, we have arrived." T'Challa informed his companions as the limo reached their destination. Okoye stepped out first, taking in the sight of what could only be described as the very home of despair itself.
KIBERIA, NAIROBI SLUMS
T'Challa tipped the limo driver extremely generously before leaning closer to the driver side window. "There is a motel just a few minutes down the road that I have already made arrangements with. If you could please drop our belongings there it would be appreciated." The driver nodded before pulling off as T'Challa, Okoye, and W'kabi began to tour the slum.
They walked through the village known as Makina, passing the depleted and derelict hovels the citizens of Kiberia were forced to live in. W'kabi's eyes drifted to the ground, ashamed that he'd never truly fathomed the conditions some were unfortunate enough to be rooted in. He couldn't find solace there either however, as even the very ground the residents were forced to walk on was riddled with refuse and waste.
"How can people know children are living in a place like this and do nothing?" Okoye asked in utter disbelief as she watched an older woman bathing herself in absolute filthy water.
"Now you see why we came here. Could you imagine if Aneka was forced to grow up in these sorts of conditions? We have never truly fathomed how blessed we are to not suffer the struggles many who share our skin undergo day in and day out. We will be planting our roots here for the foreseeable future.
"You've been planning this for months, haven't you?" Okoye asked with a raised eye at her cousin.
"The better part of a year, yes. I've arranged for me to begin teaching at a few of the schools in the area. After classes are over we will begin working on rebuilding the facilities these children are learning in." T'Challas kimoyo band began to emit a hologram of his blueprints for the improvements he had in mind for the schools.
As W'kabi and Okoye studied the plans, T'Challa had become distracted by the sight of what he was sure had to be the most beautiful women he had ever laid eyes on. Her skin was the softest shade of cocoa brown, and as she gleamed and glistened under the beaming sun T'Challa was forced to fight the urge he was feeling to cross the village just to be next to this person. Her snow-white hair made her standout amongst the children who lived in the village as they rushed to greet her, all of them shouting "Mungu wa kike" excitedly as she waded through the crowd gathering around her.
It was then that the girl they all referred to as goddess locked eyes with the young Prince, and T'Challa felt foolish as he was caught staring. She made her way towards him, her curiosity at why he seemed so interested in her enough to spark a conversation in her mind.
"I don't believe I've ever seen you here." She asked as she handed a young girl a piece of candy from the Gucci purse she was carrying on her shoulder. T'Challa found this particularly interesting, as the rest of her outfit didn't match what he was sure was a lengthy price tag for the designer purse she was using as an accessory.
"I'm new to town. I'm staying at the Kanann." T'Challa responded as Okoye and W'kabi turned their attention to the conversation between the young woman and the Prince.
"Oh really? And what is royalty doing staying at a bed bug ridden pit like that?" The young woman asked as the sky began to turn gray. Villagers saw the signs of rain and began to offer their thanks to the young woman as they passed her with various instruments to collect the soon to come rainwater.
"How did you-"
"Know you were a somebody in a place filled with the forgotten? Everything from your posture to the way you are dressed. That dashiki is made of fabrics that are expensive enough to buy this entire slum. You're a fish out of water in these parts." She teased as the rain finally began to fall.
"And what may I ask, are you?" T'Challa replied, his attention held completely captive by everything this girl radiated. Okoye stood under a small roof to avoid the rain, watching the Prince as he interacted with the mysterious young woman. She was seeing all sorts of different sides to her cousin, who she had thought by now she knew inside and out. She wondered to herself how many more hidden facets she would discover T'Challa had been hiding during his long hours at his workbench or in the Wakanda design group main lab.
"A boy as important as you shouldn't have any interest in me." The girl warned T'Challa, who brushed aside the notion she presented as quickly as it had been raised.
"And yet here I am, still very much interested. My name is T'Challa." The Prince offered his hand. The girl looked at it reluctantly when she caught a glimpse in to the deep hazel of his eyes. There was something there that reassured her, comforting her with a warmth she hadn't felt in years. Finally, she took his hand.
"Ororo." She responded with her name as well. Before the conversation could carry on further, the sounds of bullets scattering against the sides of the poorly constructed homes in the slum signaled the worst kind of trouble. Five jeeps clearly stolen from the military roared through the filthy streets of Kiberia, each loaded with men armed to the teeth.
They began to file out of the vehicles, chanting the phrase "A new tyranny" over and over again in swahili. They imposed their will on any resident that was unfortunate enough to cross their path, rounding up men, women, and children in the village of Makina. A massive member of the group hopped out of the driver's seat of the lead vehicle, a lit cigar poking out of his mouth. The members of his troupe began to line up every villager they had managed to get their hands on, placing them on their knees with their hands behind their heads. The man puffing the cigar reached back into the vehicle and pulled out a severed head before he began to approach the captive villagers. As he drew closer, the terrified villagers noticed the man's body was covered in horrible, painful looking pustules that were almost too much to glance at.
"My name is Salamander K'ruel. You heard of me, yeah?" He began as he paced in front of his captives. T'Challa watched from where he had dragged Ororo, locking eyes with W'kabi as they both realized the trouble that had crept upon them. "I am here to bring a new order to the misery you inhabit. As of this very day, Makina is under the strict jurisdiction of King Achebe. A title that through the labors of us who he has liberated, shall be respected and revered by every village in this miserable place. I know many of you are hard headed, stubborn people. You will not take to this change in your society lightly. It is this kind of thinking that has placed you in the hell you currently call your home. Examples must be illustrated to you in order to usher in this new era as smoothly as possible."
Rifles began to cock as the men under K'ruel's command took aim at the cowering villagers. T'Challa's heart was beating so fast it felt as if it may burst from his chest as he was flushed with a variety of different ways this particular scenario could pan out should he move from where he and Ororo were hidden. He looked over to where his cousin and W'kabi were crouched down once again, and the look Okoye flashed him told the Prince exactly what he thought she would. To her, his protection had to take precedence over any and everything. It was how she had been trained all her life, and she wasn't going to turn her back on the position she had given everything she had to earn.
"Let the lives of these people serve as the gateway to a new age." K'ruel boasted proudly as some of the villagers screamed in protest as some watched as their loved ones were about to be executed in front of their eyes.