Chapter Four

Return to the Throne

After all the years he had spent as a shaman, he had seen many twisted things during the course of Ultron's conquest; atrocities against morality, ethics, science, and reality above all else. He had watched his own king being thrown over the falls after being hit with dark sorcery that was forbidden by Wakandan magic practitioners. He had hoped that Ultron would be peaceful with his rule, as he did not have anything done towards the people or their ways of life. He had come close once to be ready to accept that as having come true to some degree.

Then he had seen the sins of his other generals that he had created, and all hope vanished.

He didn't need to fully understand what had happened out there. The healer that came in had already explained the details of the slaughter's nature and the attempted murder report that was being filled out now. Hopefully, Okoye could clarify something when she was permitted more information from Ultron himself. All that mattered now was that another innocent man was dead. Now, he laid out on a stretcher in the Great Hall of Kings, embalmed and being prepared for burial. His father was in a better condition, hidden from the eyes of the generals to be healed and released so he could hide once more.

The generals.

He sighed. Out of all the members of the Black Order, he preferred Vision over the others any day. He was more merciful and understanding, whereas the others would just put to death the outlaws under command without interrogation. Proxima and Corvus put together were cruel and sadistic in their own terms. Cull Obsidian's lack of speech and brute nature made him question why Ultron wanted to create them to begin with. Ebony Maw was charismatic, but still didn't find any value towards humanity. Nova Superior…she was another matter to consider, for she was so very young.

Zuri watched now as one of his fellow shaman draped a white cloth over the dead body before it was whisked away. He bowed his head, praying that this would end one day, knowing that there may never be an end. All hope seemed to have been lost, yet not forgotten.

He was distracted that he did not notice M'Wabu enter the Great Hall of Kings.

"Yintoni engalunganga?" M'Wabu asked. "What is wrong?"

Zuri shook his head, sitting down. "Nothing, young one."

M'Wabu frowned. He came over and sat down by the older man. "Don't tell me something isn't wrong. I know you well enough to know that something is troubling you deeply. Was it the generals again?"

Zuri nodded. "Yes, M'Wabu. Let's not discuss it here, though."

M'Wabu nodded. Both of them stood up, the boy helping up Zuri. They left the room and quickly made their way out of the hall.

"What are we going to do about them?" M'Wabu asked. "We cannot be kept living under them, can we? There are so many questions to consider about them."

"You will always have questions," Zuri said. "Everyone always has many queries they want answered."

"But the generals are becoming a problem," M'Wabu said. "I don't see a reason why they were created to begin with. We should do something about it."

"We cannot do anything unless we know much that can be done," Zuri said.

"But if Ultron gets control of the entire world, no one is safe," M'Wabu argued. "We must find a way to free Wakanda before we all go to our deaths. I mean, you have Ultron's complete trust. Plus, we have many people who want to expose ourselves to the world, so it seems fair we should execute a plan."

"No, it's too dangerous."

M'Wabu stared at him long and hard. "We may not have any other choice in the near future. And when Ultron controls everything, it will be too late to help others. And I thought we were the greatest country in the world right now."

And with that, he left.

Zuri gave an irritated shake of the head. To say M'Wabu could be trusted would be stretching the point, but he could admit to himself that he could always rely on the boy. He had past many of his tests on being a good shaman and, one day, he might pass his title of chieftain to him. It wasn't his will to rise up that bothered him, it was that he could keep secrets. And there were many that made the head shaman think that he was hiding something else. Something that he wanted to tell but couldn't.

"Excuse me?"

Zuri turned around and saw Vision standing behind him. "What do you want?"

"I hear that you were looking for T'Challa the other day."

Zuri glared at this. "What do you know of him?"

"I know where he is hiding."

Drums were struck in a rhythm that let the people know that it was in celebration, not for warfare. People were gathered in the center of the village to celebrate the marriage of two of their residents. They had on their best clothing and painted their faces to commemorate the happy couple. Torches lit the night. The sky illuminated with stars and a full moon. Laughter and talk filled the air. Music rang out in the open. A perfect time and night for all to declare a joyous day.

Three weeks had quickly passed since the trio had been in Amarna, as with the obedience of a clock ticking by signified the hour of a day. Everyone had continued on in life in their own happy little homes, and Scott was once again left to stay with T'Challa and Shuri. No one had spoken about the incident or T'Challa's presence in the city, leaving him feeling relieved that word of him had spread.

As the party continued into the night, Scott had picked up a wooden carving of the panther goddess Bast from a table. "Is this marula?" he asked.

"M'Wabu carved it himself," Nakia said. "It's a hobby some Wakandans cherish since the five tribes settled upon it. It's a natural gift."

Scott raised a brow and set it down. "It's really good," he complimented. "If I could, he might have been able to enter La Noche de los Rábanos down in the Tenochtitlan."

"The what?" Nakia asked.

"The radish night," said Scott. "People in that country come from all over to the capital there to carve, using only radishes. They come in many shapes and sizes. Some are the size of your own arms and legs."

"I never knew of that," Nakia mumbled.

Scott nodded. "It's true."

"While I appreciate your word of advice," M'Wabu said as he passed by, "I like to think carving as a hobby, not a profession."

"We do not have to talk about this," Nakia said. "Mr. Lang, where are you from originally?"

Scott froze. "I don't have any place to call home. Even if I did, I would have no access back into my hometown. I'm not even sure if I still have one, since I don't even remember coming to Nilos."

Nakia stared at him with confusion. T'Challa had a look as if she knew he hadn't come here willingly. He set his plate down. "Do you remember what happened before waking up here?" he asked.

"All I could remember was being asleep in my bed, and then my mouth was covered as something was injected in me," Scott recalled. "Other than that, the rest is a blur."

"Just as I suspected," T'Challa whispered.

"What do you mean?"

"Scott," Nakia spoke slowly. "Can you think of anyone who might have hold a grudge against you? Anyone who might wanted retribution on you?"

Scott frowned, his eyes squinted hard on concentration and lips pulled tight as he found himself deep in thought. The others waited for a while to see what his answer would be. When Scott's eyes widened in shocking anger and his fists clenched together, T'Challa knew they had an answer. "Who is it?" he asked.

"Alfred, that crooked weasel," Scott snarled. "He's the town's idiotic deputy, and my first cousin once removed. I knew he hated me so much, but for him to go as far as to let this happen…" His voice trailed off. "I'm sorry. I don't like to talk about my family."

T'Challa nodded to clarify his understanding before they returned to their fun. He had caught sight of D'Kar, an old friend and captain of the village's guardsmen, having fun himself. T'Challa smiled. It was nice to see the older man being jubilant for once in the last twenty years. So much had happened between then and now.

The day T'Chaka had died, the three had come into this part of Wakanda. Ramonda, at the time, had no idea where they would go, only that she got her children as far from the Golden City as she could to keep them safe. It was not until they reached the clearing that she observed their surroundings to see if it would suit their needs.

"This is perfect," she adjudicated.

They had been living there for a week in a tent, and soon the first citizen of the cities near the capital had appeared with his family. Then many more came. It took less than a month for the place to become a haven. T'Challa was too terrified and shy to even acknowledge it, and his hands were trembling terribly. Shuri was too young to remember what it was that caused his fears, but Ramonda had decided that the first thing to be done was to keep themselves occupied. D'Kar had introduced him in the art of fighting and offered to help him continue his education in case, even though it worried his mother. It turned out to be a natural habit for him to begin with.

He suddenly noticed M'Wabu sitting alone on one of the benches beneath the trees. His head was bowed down and he was muttering something underneath his breath. T'Challa never saw the young boy this greatly upset in his life. He made his way over to the benches. M'Wabu noticed his presence approaching and quickly looked away, but it did not go unnoticed by T'Challa.

"What is wrong?" he asked the boy.

"I am worried for Zuri and to those I have come to know outside of this village," M'Wabu admitted without hesitation. "Every day, I watch them make difficult choices that affect them greatly. I think it is destroying them, T'Challa. Sometimes, I don't know what to do about it."

"Hey, look to me," T'Challa began. "I know exactly what you mean. Every choice is always difficult to make. Some choices, however, will always be harder than others. Which is why you must always surround yourself with the ones that you can trust."

"You do what you believe is always right for your people," M'Wabu said. "You always do. You would make a great king, always reigning with all the wisdom that gods could grant you."

T'Challa smiled. "Always? And what if I get old and gray? And Bast comes to whisk me away to the afterlife?"

"Maybe then I will be the Black Panther," M'Wabu grinned, "and I will drive her off with my panther claws."

T'Challa laughed at this. It was then they had noticed the music and celebrations had stopped and they heard the clamors of awe. Both of them looked up in confusion and concern. Everyone was looking up, whispering and pointing all at once.

"Are we expecting anyone?" Scott asked.

T'Challa shook his head. M'Wabu grabbed Scott and they slipped around a corner. Nakia and T'Challa crept through the crowd with Shuri behind them, waiting for a fight. As T'Challa managed to see what the fuss was about, his eyes widened.

"What is it?" Shuri asked.

"It's the Tribal Council," T'Challa whispered.

M'Wabu reappeared from his hiding spot as T'Challa stepped through the crowd. The entire quartet had emerged from the jungles, wrapped in shawls and cloaks.

"How did they find us?" Shuri wondered.

"I don't know," Nakia responded.

"Is T'Challa here?" M'Kathu asked. "We must speak with him. And congratulations to the happy couple."

Shuri and Nakia turned their heads to look at the man in question. T'Challa's heart was pounding so hard that he feared it would burst through his chest and start jumping around. All thoughts were a jumbled mess and ricocheting off of the corners of his mind. How did they know where to find him? Surely someone let slip of their location or they had followed a poor soul? Or…did Vision inform them of their location? All eyes were on him now.

"Inside," he said at last, gesturing to the hut he and his family lived in. He didn't need to bother to see if they were coming. He turned towards were M'Wabu was, and he could see the boy stiff as a stone statue. His hands were trembling as his eyes followed the council, as they and the former family entered the house.

"Are they government officials?" Scott asked.

"Something like that," Nakia whispered back. "I've never seen them come here before. It is fortunate."

"So, why did they come here after all these years?"

"You want to what?"

T'Challa thought he had heard that wrong. Surely, he thought he had. He stole a glance to his sister, thinking he had definitely heard wrong. Shuri wore a look of shock on her face as well. That was enough to clarify that he had indeed heard right. Yeah, there was no joke about it. They had come indeed to crown him their king.

"It's treason," T'Challa said.

"It's the only way to restore balance to Wakanda," the River Tribe Elder, Anpu, reasoned. "Ultron is growing out of control."

"That's not new," Shuri said.

"We are also aware of that," T'Challa remarked. "But it is not our place to decide who is king or not. He won in ritual combat." Then he concluded solemnly, "Even if it did cost my father's life."

"That is another matter," the Mining Tribe Elder, Marjani, spoke. "He used black magic to take out your father before throwing him over the falls."

Both of T'Chaka's children were stunned to hear this. Until now, they thought he was just a brute force that practiced alchemy, given the nature of his creations. It had Shuri slip into angered denial. Her fingers curled into a fist as she thought of it. It was all the more reason she would visit Mount Bashenga and design the most powerful weapons to rid of their current patriarch.

"I can't believe he would go this far," she said. "To think he wanted 'peace in our lifetime' and build an empire surrounding it—"

"Wakanda does not need an empire," the Merchant Tribe Elder, Efua, remarked. "It needs a king."

"Most of the Border Tribesmen have been moved around ever since he conquered the entire landmass," M'Kathu said. "Not a day goes by when I regret thinking of this moment."

"There is no other way to control what we have lost," Marjani, added. "We need someone to lead us in our darkest hour."

T'Challa tapped his finger against the arm of the chair he occupied, thinking over the matter. Were the elders really this desperate to crown him their king? He found no fault in their wish of doing so. Fear-based rule always had a significant multitude of flaws in its system. It was no surprise that some were defying certain basic laws as means of maintaining tradition and the laws their ancestors had established.

However, he knew it was a great risk to go through such a ceremonial ritual without a testimony on his behalf. He understood that they had every right to seek out someone they could actually turn to, for life inside and outside of Wakanda were being torn apart, everything believed and followed taken away in one swift motion. Yet, T'Challa wasn't too sure if this was the right thing to do. In fact, he wasn't entirely sure at all!

Everyone had barely been independent out here. No man had ever come into No Man's Land before. A reason why Ramonda chose to keep herself and her children here. Even after she passed away, it was still home to them that remained undiscovered to anyone, except for Vision (a mystery that had yet to reveal how he knew of their location when Ultron did not). It was here they found peace. Here they found a home. But no more, as he and his sister sat here with the Tribal Council, whom they barely remembered or ever conversed with in their lives.

His greatest fear was if he had the ability to rule. He had been given the best education he could from the elders that had surrounded him, whether they were once scholars or simply experts in the land or on the field. He still couldn't determine how strong his skill in statecraft were in whole. How he hated himself when cowardice seemed to have overpowered him. He might believe that he was ready to take his place as king — he could be a great king like his father had been. He had been too comfortable to care less and he had decided he wanted to stay here for the rest of his days.

And yet he could not.

No, he would not!

What he had said to M'Wabu told him of his hypocrisy being evident. For once, his father's last words of wisdom to him sprang to his mind, to trust those he can trust, to balance and respect his people. Now, this will be the day he waited for — to finally put his father's words to use.

"Ultron has been requested an audience by the Philistine King three days from now," he acknowledged as he rose from his seat, all business-like now. "He will be gone for at least a fortnight. We will have to plan while we can. Are there any questions?"

"What's with the outsider?" Anpu abruptly asked.

M'Kathu facepalmed himself in the forehead. This was going to be a long night.

During Ultron's absence, the entire nation of Wakanda was buzzing with excitement and celebration. Many wore their finest clothing and painted their faces for the occasion. Finally, after all these years, they would have a true king they would turn to for guidance and protection. Children threw confetti into the air. The sound of drums beat in the air.

"I feel like a nomad," Scott told M'Wabu. He tugged at the tunic he wore beneath his shawl.

"You remind me of the princes during the ancient days up north," M'Wabu replied with a smile.

"Is that a good thing?" Scott asked.

M'Wabu snickered. D'Kar glared at them with a reproachful look. "Mind your tongues, both of you," he scolded. He waved his arm towards the crowds of people along the riverbank that marched towards their destination. "Today marks a new era, where hopefully we will find a sense of peace. Except the event of combating for the throne is still at play."

"Even you can choose to challenge him, Scott," Shuri remarked.

Both men widened their eyes in horror. It was the first rise the girl had gotten from any of them during the last two weeks.

"Why? So you can go head to head with him?" M'Wabu responded in kind. "That would be fun to watch you pin him down, actually."

Shuri rolled her eyes. "Please. Fight to the death and then spend the entirety of my days with the elders? No, thank you. I have a lab; that is a kingdom to me."

"If you say so," Scott shrugged.

"We are here," D'Kar announced. "Follow Shuri. I will be with the rest of the guard." He quickly left their side to lead the guardsmen downward of Warrior Falls to the Challenge Pool. Scott hurried after Shuri and M'Wabu down a flight of steps. The warriors had used their spears to activate a dam that diverted the flow of water, where the water below drained away until it revealed the Challenge Arena. Many rows where the spectators sat were carved into the stone, all facing a large area where the challengers will compete to be the next king of Wakanda.

It did not take long for him to be prepared. He had the designs of a leopard painted onto him and was given a shield and spear. The Royal Talon flew over the river towards Warrior Falls. This was it. Finally, after all of these years, he was to be crowned their king. This wasn't what he had in mind for a coronation, but it was better than nothing. He could just remember hearing his parents talk about this moment for days. Oh, how he wished more than anything, more than life itself that they were here right now.

Even though he felt giddy, he felt less than ready. He drew in a breath before letting it out. Why was he so nervous? He felt pride swelling in his chest since the night before, but anxiety overcame it this morning. Maybe he was just nervous. After all, this was a secret coronation, and he didn't dare to think what would happen should Ultron find out.

Bast, give me the strength I need today, for surely even my ancestors are watching over me.

Time was running out for other options as the sound of thunder reached his ears. Lifting his head, he felt the Royal Talon raise itself up into the air and twisting. He stood up, holding his weapons in his hands. He held them close as he made his way over to the opened hatch. As he descended down the stairs, he could hear the people around him chanting. All of the rows surrounding the arena were filled with all of Wakanda. For once, he was relieved that Vision remained behind while Ultron and the Black Order were absent.

"I, Zuri," the head shaman rang out for all to hear, "son of Badu, welcome to you all, the tribes of Wakanda, to the Challenge ritual. I now give you T'Challa, son of T'Chaka!"

T'Challa could hear all cheering. He bowed before them, and the arena grew silent. He stood up again and turned to Zuri, bowing his head down in respect. He had yet to talk to the shaman about the many thoughts that echoed in his mind. The main subject being how his location was known to him and the elders, and if Vision had anything to do with it.

"Victory in ritual combat," Zuri addressed the crowd, "comes by yield or death. Should anyone try to interfere, they must pay with their life. So now I offer a path to the throne. Does any tribe wish to put forth a warrior?"

"The merchant tribe will not challenge today," Efua said.

One by one, the Border Tribe, River Tribe, and Mining Tribe turned down the chance to challenge for the throne. However, before it could end, Shuri raised her hand, causing the crowd to murmur in shock.

"This corset is really uncomfortable," the girl said. "So can we please wrap this up and go—" She nearly yelled when Scott covered her mouth.

"No, no," he said. "We're good here."

Everyone was just about groaning in annoyance. One kid practically facepalmed himself.

"Tribes of Wakanda," Zuri said. "Without a challenge, I—"

He stopped suddenly when he heard chanting from one of the tunnels. The people closest to it parted in fear and confusion. Six warriors appeared and made their way down to the Challenge Pool. Said warriors were adorned in wooden armor and wielded long wooden spears. The seventh warrior that entered the arena wore a mask resembling a gorilla.

"What are they?" Scott wanted to know in curiosity.

"Aren't they Jabari?" Shuri whispered to D'Kar.

"Yes," the Pasha leader responded in fear.

The crowd reacted in shock at the sight, breaking out into slightly panicked murmurs as one of the warriors approached T'Challa and Zuri. He lifted his mask up, revealing a sneer and dark eyes filled with loathing. Zuri returned the glare with disdain.

"M'Baku, what are you doing here?" Zuri murmured.

"It's Challenge Day," M'Baku casually shrugged.

Zuri's eyes widened. How did he know of this day? He shook his head. "We have made an agreement with your tribe to leave you to the mountains, and you would leave us in peace."

M'Baku glared at the shaman. "That was thousands of years ago, witch doctor. Today is a new day." He paused and turned to the rest of the countrymen. "We have watched and listened from the mountains," he called out for all to hear. "We have watched in disgust as your technological advancements have been overseen by a child!"

Scott put himself between the warrior and Shuri. From her spot, she stiffened when the Jabari leader made eye contact with her. The Pasha guardsmen drew out their swords to protect them both and to prevent the warrior from coming closer.

"Who scoffs at tradition," M'Baku continued. He turned around and made his way to stand face-to-face with T'Challa. "And now you want to hand over the nation to this prince who not only allowed an outsider to live among you, but who could not keep his own father safe?"

T'Challa clenched his fist tightly as he stared at the one who insulted him.

"Wasn't he only eight years old when this happened?" Scott asked.

"Say it louder; it will really help," M'Wabu grumbled, sarcasm dripping from his voice.

"We will not have it. I say: we will not have it!" M'Baku exclaimed. "I, M'Baku, leader of the Jabari—"

"I accept your challenge," T'Challa coolly claimed that he was willing to take on the challenge. He held out his hand, but the Jabari chief ignored it.

"Glory to Hanuman," M'Baku mused.

T'Challa didn't even give a response. Zuri reached into his pouch and pulled out a panther mask. He held it out to T'Challa, who took it and placed it over his face. Memories of the last fight here were racing through their minds, but they could not let that stand in the way of the fight. The drummers began to pound in a rhythmic beat. The Jabari warriors and the Dora Milaje face off on opposite sides of the pool, both groups with spears raised.

"Let the challenge begin!" Zuri commenced. He finalized it with a bang of the staff into the ground.

M'Baku wasted no time. With a battle cry, he swung his club. T'Challa was ready, bringing up his shield and spear to block the attack. T'Challa dodged and tried to trip his opponent, only to kick up a small wave of water into the air. M'Baku swung his club into his shield. He proceeded to try and make a stabbing motion, but T'Challa used his shield to block it. The Jabari tribesman swung his club with such strength and velocity that it sent T'Challa into the water.

"Oh, good lord," Scott winced.

The Jabari and Dora Milaje inched in closer, their spears still pointing at them. T'Challa quickly jumped to his feet, ready to end this once and for all. He took a swipe at his opponent and did a high kick into his chest. That seemed to fuel M'Baku. He was up and swinging his club. T'Challa tried to dodge it. Unfortunately, he took one wrong move and felt the club hit him, sending his mask, shield, and spear flying into the pool. The crowd cringed at the scene.

"Come on, T'Challa!" M'Wabu hollered.

The man wasn't ready to give up. Not yet.

"Where is your god now?" M'Baku mocked.

T'Challa faced his adversary once more. When the Jabari leader tried to jab him, he took the opportunity, wrapping his arm around the pole and cartwheeled, his foot connecting with his face. The crowd cheered. M'Baku tried to swing, but this time T'Challa was ready. He punched him in the small of his back and connected his fist to the Jabari chief's jaw. He made a jab again, and his opponent swung his club. This time, however, M'Baku had grabbed the other end and pulled T'Challa closer, slamming his rock mask against his face.

"No powers," M'Baku taunted as he kept hitting his mask against T'Challa. "No weapons. Nothing special. Just a boy unfit to rule!"

"Come on, T'Challa," Shuri shouted. Fear and concern coursed through her body. She had already lost her parents. She was not going to let her brother be added to the list.

"Show him what you've got," Scott yelled.

With a battle cry, he swung his arm and slammed his elbow against M'Baku's mask. He kept slamming it until the mask cracked open, sending M'Baku stumbling backwards into the water. With one sweep, T'Challa locked his legs around his opponent and dragged them both towards the falls. The crowd was cheering for T'Challa.

"Yield!" T'Challa yelled at M'Baku.

"N-never," he choked.

"I will not kill you," T'Challa said. "You must yield!"

"I would rather die!" M'Baku shouted.

T'Challa dragged them closer to the edge. "Yield, M'Baku. Not for me, but for the very tribe whose existence depends on you! Your people need you more than Wakanda needs a king now. Please, for them — yield!"

But M'Baku was too stubborn to surrender. T'Challa knew that even if there would be no shame to yield, this man would not easily back down. He applied more pressure and pulled them both to the point where it seemed easy to drag them both down the falls.

"M'Baku," T'Challa implored one last time. "Please, for your tribesmen."

He watched as M'Baku's eyes rolled to the back of his head. T'Challa feared that he was slowly dying in his hold. Until the Jabari leader tapped on his leg twice to indicate surrender. T'Challa tentatively loosened his legs and M'Baku rolled away. The entire arena roared with excitement and triumph. T'Challa shakily got up to his feet as Zuri approached him. The Jabari tribesmen helped their leader to his feet as Zuri made the announcement.

"People of Wakanda," he declared for all to hear, "I give you T'Challa, King of Wakanda and the Black Panther."

T'Challa graciously accepted the crown as it was placed around his neck. Having earned both the title of royalty and the mantle at once was now more exciting than having to learn of having visitors from previous nights before. He mentally reeled in surprise as realization slammed into his mind. He had been so anxious to have this over with that he forgot what he was now not only responsible for the people, but also to bear the title as their protector. But regardless, there were more important matters at hand now.

"Wakanda forever!" He did the Wakanda salute. The people echoed and resumed to rejoice. He knew from this day on, nothing would ever be the same again. It was now his right, his destiny to protect, serve, and rule as King of Wakanda.