Chapter 1: Prologue – Rumors of War
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Hello everyone! I hope you're all doing great!
I have a new story planned, that will follow the hero and princess from 10,000 years before Breath of the Wild. This story relies heavily on ideas I've come up with about the Zonai tribe, various alterations of lore from BotW, and hypothetical tweaks on the technology level of the time. My husband and I are writing this story together, and I'll post chapters as they're finished, but I can't make any promises about how frequent that will be, since he and I both are starting our first years teaching full time and we'll be pretty busy.
I have some concept art for this story already, as well as a hypothetical map of Hyrule 10,000 years before BotW. I also have a LOT of notes on the way I've designed Zonai culture, the linguistics my husband and I have come up with for the various cultures of Hyrule, and other details about the story.
If you're interested in these things, please VOTE on my profile page on whether you would like me to create a Tumblr page containing all these resources, or let me know otherwise via PM! ( :
I hope you enjoy these first two chapters!
Khanot
The proud sun reached its zenith over the seemingly endless expanse of the Gerudo desert. It was greeted by waves of heat that rose from the yellow wasteland, their distortion turning the sand into an ocean. Within its wind-shifted waves, a fleet of carts, caravans, and flying Rito followed roads to and from the great market-city of Qaijkarah. Most bore the trappings of Hylian merchants, their blue and gold colors flying high over their wagons and draped from the shoulders of their sweating guardsmen. Others carried brown banners adorned with a symbol not unlike the print of a three-toed reptile, the symbol of the province called Eldin and home to the rocky Gorons. Some carts bore the feathered crescent of the Rito, their drivers forced to bear on wheels what wings could not carry effectively. Few in number but still present were the skeptical white-haired Sheikah beneath their red eyed flag, unable to resist the market's bounty despite their pride. Finally, the green, spiral adorned banners of the Zonai flew over a portion of the carts headed to and from the south, a path much different than the north-eastward road used by the rest. All these fluttered in the burning wind that stirred the desert sands beneath the vibrant red banners of the Gerudo, marked with the stylized, jagged, star-like image of the very sun that defined their arid homeland and drew sweat from every brow. In this place, though goods and coins from every corner of Hyrule flowed through its streets, there was nothing higher than the sun, and nothing higher than the man who its symbol demarked.
King Khanot of the Gerudo, the Golden Sun, Lord of the Seven Wastes, Guardian of the Arbiter, and Monarch of Qaijkarah watched all the proceedings in his great city from the heights of a terraced, temple-like structure that towered over the oasis and its many stalls and structures. From his gilded throne, he could see both the caravans past his walls and the children playing on the shores of the great oasis that made his city possible. The countless colorful market stalls and mud brick buildings were all subject to his gaze. The wealth and lives of the inhabitants, transient and longstanding alike, were under his protection, enforced by the spear wielding Gerudo guardswomen the children imitated with their sticks. There was little beyond his power within his walls, a feeling he greatly enjoyed each time he returned from the garish courts and fat nobles of Castle Town. Safely at home, Khanot's eyes were blessed both with scenes of opulence and color to rival Castle Town and strength not found in its temperate streets.
Still, it was not with ease that the powerfully built Gerudo man paced on his terrace, fixating his gaze on random details of his city below. He had left Castle Town days before with grim news from the east and deep dissatisfaction with King Pelaris Hyrule's decisions about it. The Hylian ruler and overlord of all the land's provinces had told his court that there was nothing to worry about. The supposed Zonai terrorist attack on the Shiekah factory in the shared town of Gotafalla was a fluke, perhaps even an accident. The Sheikah's 'peacekeepers' would no doubt be able to restore order quickly, and all would go on as it had before. Khanot was not convinced. The Sheikah and Zonai had been arguing in court for over a month over the Zonai's refusal to grant Sheikah scientists access to their sacred Grafensteda burial grounds to study the mystical Zonai spirit flames. An escalation of that disagreement seemed unlikely, but unlikely and impossible were very different things.
Khanot looked closer at a group of children along the road beneath his temple. Three Gerudo girls were sparring with what appeared to be three Hylian boys using pot lids as shields and spoons as swords. Further inspection revealed that two of the boys bore the distinctive paint of the Zonai, red and green lines running up and down their arms. Spoons flashed. The hands of those not fast enough were bit by the surprisingly acute edges of the makeshift weapons. After a crack, the Hylian boy dropped his armaments and fled, hiding his watering eyes. The three Gerudo faced down the shorter Zonai, the glint of victory in their amber eyes. The outnumbered and outsized boys responded with nearly feral glares that seemed to mirror the visage of the Guardian Wolf they believed watched over them. They were not going to back down, even in the face of certain defeat. Weapons clashed again, and this time, the battle devolved into a brawl of grapples and blows. In the end, the Gerudo arose victorious, but at that point, the outcome of the battle meant nothing. The girls were looking for strength, and they found it. The foes rose from the dust as friends.
Even as children, the Gerudo understood that the Zonai were a people much like them. They were hardy, weathered, fierce, and unbreakable. They did not back down from threats and met challenges with undaunted glares. They would not bend before the demands of any outside power, let alone wispy white-haired scientists determined to find a better power source for their metallic spiders. Everyone in Hyrule knew that in unity, there was strength. In peace, there was trade, and with trade, prosperity for all. Only fools would casually risk the delicate balance of powers that filled the markets of the world with abundance. However, if it came down to a choice between preserving peace and defending their honor, the Zonai would take up arms. Khanot understood; he would do the same.
"Khanot?" the kindly, elder voice of his finest advisor inquired, her voice echoing from the stairs.
Khanot turned his back on the bustle of his city to address his throne room. The chamber was wide and unwalled, the roof supported by gilded pillars so as to promote visibility and admit Rito messengers. Elaborately woven curtains of gold, red, and green were tied to each column, allowing him to enclose the terrace like a tent at his will. A great hearth stood at the center of the room, the only source of fire and light, and though seemingly insufficient for such a large space, its dancing flames would be magnified to the might of a little moon by the gold and gems that would gladly reflect it. Not three paces behind it stood a raised dais surrounded by regal rugs which bore three gold thrones backed by engraved stones from the Arbiter's Grounds. From the center throne's obelisk hung the sun-emblazoned banner of Khanot's rule, proudly marking the center of his power and judgment when in Qaijkarah.
The other two thrones bore the traditional Gerudo symbol, linking his rare dominion to the matriarchs and heroines gone before and yet to come. Both were empty, though the seat on the right bore its specks of dust only because his daughter Nabouri was practicing the art of rule in the Gerudo capital to the west. The throne to the left of his own had gone nine years vacant, a fact that would not change until Khanot was dead and gone. In place of a chieftess, it bore a somber crown made of woven jasmine, the clean white petals standing out in the desert-toned hall. Khanot brushed the woven stalks and blooms as delicately as he could with his large hand, sorrow hanging over him. It crinkled in response, revealing its age. It was past time he replaced it. Rajiya's memory deserved only the best.
"Khanot? Are you up here?" his elderly adviser asked again.
"Yes," Khanot answered, approaching the stairway.
"Ah, good! I am pleased to see you unharmed from your journey," she said, coming into sight at last.
The wrinkled Gerudo woman smiled, her blue eyes twinkling with joy. That day, she chose a robe-like dress of green and gold that interacted cleverly with her artfully braided white hair, though he remembered it when it likewise contrasted her natural Gerudo orange. Her limbs had lost most of their strength, forcing her to rely heavily on a cane carved with the visage of a hawk. On her arm, she also carried a basket of freshly-cut jasmine. Khanot's heart warmed both at the chance to see her again and at her thoughtfulness. The twenty-three years since their meeting had changed them both, but in all the ways that mattered, she was still the benevolent adopted mother he had always known.
"As am I. It's good to see you again," Khanot responded, grinning, and bowing to her. She did not accept the bow and embraced him with all the strength her arms had left, the handle of her crooked cane and the basket of flowers resting against his back.
"I am late, unfortunately," she explained, while Khanot pulled one of the plain wooden chairs from the edge of the terrace for her and helped her into it. "I intended to arrive before you, but Nabouri wanted to come with me, and I wasn't going to tell her no. Affairs in Gerudo City bogged her down a few days longer than we wanted, though."
"Nabouri is here? Wonderful!" Khanot said, beaming wider while he acquired a small table and a chair for himself.
"Yes, she said she was tired of playing princess and that it had been too long since she'd seen you. I think she is just excited to be somewhere that people will bother you instead of her."
"For all she does holding our country together in my many absences, that is only fair. It is certainly my turn to tend to our nation," Khanot said jovially. Then, almost bleakly, he continued, "It seems I only just make it here before something pulls me back to Hyrule these days."
"We've noticed. I'm quite sure a Skulltula has taken up residence in your chambers in the capital, too. Since it didn't seem like you minded, we just decided to charge her rent."
"Of course you know it's a female."
"Indeed! This is the city for men and women to mingle. Our traditions still hold in the capital, even for beasts."
The two laughed, granting him levity he longed for. Likely as not, she knew that too. Talented in politics as she was, it was her understanding of the royal family and willingness to help the people that composed it that had proved to be her greatest contribution.
"Where is Nabouri then?" Khanot asked, freeing the jasmine from the basket and sorting the cut sections for length, strength, and beauty.
"Oh, I'm sure she'll be up here soon enough. She said she wanted to check in with Lady Ghada of the Guard first. The fact that she'll have to walk past all the lovely traveling men in the market to get to the barracks is surely unrelated."
Khanot smirked and shook his head. His daughter had always been dutiful, strong, and driven. Nabouri understood from the beginning what role she would play in the world and sat tall in the throne to his right, even when her head could not reach the Arbiter's Stone behind her and her legs dangled from the seat. She had always embraced what being the future matriarch of the Gerudo meant and clung to every story of her ancestors and the legendary Eight Heroines, praying with all her might that she would live up to their standards. Still, that didn't preclude the truth behind the joke.
"I can't believe she's old enough to get married now. It seems like just yesterday I was teaching her how to hold a spear while she wrestled to keep the Crown of Thunder from slipping off. Now it actually fits. Heroines, let her choose someone worthy!"
"By which you mean a Zonai, I'm sure."
"I am not prejudiced. I will approve of any man that will be good for her and the kingdom. It just so happens I think the world is short on good men that aren't from Faron."
They shared another round of laughter.
"Well, I suppose that only time will tell whether she comes to share that belief. More to the point, I do not think we have to worry about her choosing poorly."
"I know," Khanot nodded. "She's going to be an excellent chieftess one day."
The sorting done, he picked the first two cut stalks of the beautiful shrub that formed his memorials. Delicate skill and dexterity were not native to his thick fingers and muscular arms, but experience had served him well, and he wove with precision and haste. Nothing else would be a sufficient tribute for his friend and love. Until his fingers failed from the shakes and pains of old age, he would never stop making the crowns to honor her. It was one of the few vigils he could hold to thank her and express his remorse that he hadn't been strong enough to save her.
"I am sure that Rajiya is proud of her," his advisor said, setting her hand on his shoulder comfortingly. "Now, before Nabouri arrives, why don't you tell me what's on your mind? I'd rather not cast my gloom over your time together."
"You are the least grim person I know, Kotake," Khanot said. "But yes, there is much to say."
While he continued to turn disparate trimmings into a mark of beauty, Khanot relayed the tense meeting of King Pelaris' court, expressing it for the first time in words since he experienced it days prior. Giving it words forced him to give it shape that it didn't have in his mind, and he found himself more worried for doing so.
"You believe the Zonai attack on the Sheikah factory was real then," Kotake said, tapping her cane against the floor as she thought.
"I don't know what I believe. More importantly, I'm not sure it matters. If the Sheikah 'peacekeepers' Lord Yagamura is sending to Gotafalla aren't what he says they are… well, even if they are, I'm not sure the Zonai will abide them. They might see it as a veiled assault on their Grafensted, and they will not tolerate a threat to their sacred burial grounds, especially not by the machine-making Sheikah they already think are offending the goddesses with their technology. So even if this move isn't a Sheikah escalation, it might provoke the Zonai to the same end."
"It may matter in working out the motivations of the parties involved, though. To that end, what does King Pelaris have to say about this?"
Khanot wanted to spit in disdain. Agitation tensed his muscles, giving him the desire to punch someone. Restless, he set down the partially formed crown and returned to his pacing, his bare feet progressively bunching up the rug beneath them more with each pass.
"That oaf? I think he was more interested in the wine I brought him than the potential conflict. The Hylians know as much about good governance as the Zora know about the desert. He spent the whole meeting trying to tell us that things were under control. Yet, as far as I can tell, they're not, and he's not actually doing anything. He just trusts Yagamura."
"And you don't trust anyone."
"I trust that people will always do what they think will benefit them the most. The problem is that unintelligent people don't think well. Pelaris has been pampered by the Sheikah, and he's never been fond of the 'primitive Zonai and their barbaric ways.' Our source in Hyrule Castle has made that quite clear."
"So, the real question is what Yagamura thinks," Kotake said, nodding slowly. "That will be tricky; he's a clever one."
A small gust of wind ruffled the terrace, disrupting some of Khanot's piles of jasmine. Kotake started straightening them with measured movements of her shaking hand while Khanot finished a lap. Time ever had a way of undoing his work. Still restless, the king of the Gerudo forced himself to return to his chair beside her.
"I know. That's what worries me," he said, resuming his weaving. "He's a fool if he thinks he can beat the Zonai in combat on their own turf, even with his guardians. I know he's not a fool. So, if this is an intentional move against the Zonai, there's more to the plan than we can see."
"Hmm. Indeed. Perhaps that's the motive behind this talk of 'peacekeepers.' He could be playing Pelaris into building Hylian support for the Sheikah side of a war."
"Maybe. So many people in Hyrule have family, friends, and business contacts on both sides that I would be surprised if that worked, but…" Khanot shrugged. "I don't know. That would assume Pelaris knows anything about his people's sentiments."
"True. He may rend Hyrule instead of rally it. Though, that may also be part of Yagamura's plan, if he is indeed intentionally behind this action in the east."
Another gust tossed a few flowers. Khanot caught them before they could fall to the ground. Kotake answered by rearranging the basket and her cane to provide something of a barrier. Had any servants or guards been present, he could have asked them to close the curtains, but he long since made it a habit of leaving them downstairs when he was alone. There was no other access to that floor of his temple-palace besides scaling the wall or flying in, and he was more than strong enough to handle any threats that could do that. There was always a sword at his waist, a spear behind his throne, and… a few other tricks up his sleeve. He also knew that as soon as he got up to close the windows himself, the wind would throw his project all over the terrace. It was better to endure.
"I'm not sure I understand, Kotake. How would breaking Hyrule help the Sheikah? Their economy is far from self-sufficient. They need trade with Hyrule as much as anyone. Perhaps more than many. Not to mention that the Sheikah are sworn to protect the royal family."
Kotake was ready for his counter. She leaned closer to him, her gaze darkly serious.
"Oaths can be broken, my king," the elder Gerudo said simply.
A tome of references no doubt waited behind her scowl. Khanot could only wonder how many traitors she had encountered in her sixty-six years serving the royal family of the Gerudo. He had been told of bandits, robbers, and witches that once roamed the untamed sands, performing rituals to some dark being long lost to time. They had been nearly exterminated before he first set foot in civilization, but their relics remained. He knew that better than perhaps anyone else but Kotake. Khanot was barely able to suppress a shudder at the memory of the cave he once called home and the witch named 'mother' he abandoned there. Kotake's point was only strengthened by his response. There was true evil in the world, some as old as its very bones. Who knew who secretly served it?
"Though that may not be it," Kotake continued, repositioning the pillow on her chair. "History teaches us that Hyrule is, properly speaking, a matriarchy. It is the Queen of Hyrule specifically who is promised divine power from their Goddess Hylia. The kings of Hyrule, while legitimate, have no such promise, and are thus always interim leaders, almost stewards, in anticipation of the next true-blooded Queen. Well, as you well know, Pelaris has a daughter."
"Yes, Zelda. She certainly seems like a bright young woman."
"I'm sure she has the makings of a wise leader, despite her parentage. But what does she have to do with Yagamura? Well, one possible theory is this: if the Sheikah chose to interpret their oaths to the royal family as specifically oaths to the rightful Queen, they would be under no obligation to support a king while a queen lives."
"Undermining her future kingdom seems like a poor way to keep even that version of the oath," Khanos objected.
"Unless, recognizing Pelaris' uselessness as you and many others have, they have decided that the best Hyrule for her to be protected in is one in which they rule."
Khanot was not convinced, but he could see his advisor's reasoning. Effectively, Yagamura in that scenario would be setting Zelda up as a puppet, a figurehead to keep safe and coddle in the palace and bring out for parades while they got to reap the benefits of true political power. She would be safe, but Hyrule would be theirs.
"Interesting. Well, I can't deny that it's possible," the king admitted, grabbing a few more stems of jasmine. "At the very least, we have some angles we can explore. If we have time to do so."
"Which brings up a good question, actually. In the event–intentionally or otherwise–that war breaks out between the Zonai and the Sheikah, what do you plan to do?"
Khanot sighed heavily, and examined his nearly completed crown for imperfections and weaknesses.
"The Hylians are our biggest trading partners. The Zonai are our second, and have deep roots of kinship with us. All of us need Goron metals, which must pass through Hyrule. I'm going to put as much pressure as I can on Hyrule's nobility to encourage peace and prevent a war, but no matter what happens, trade must continue."
"Even the trade between the Zonai and our weaponsmiths? It will be hard to argue for peace if we are not neutral, and there is no neutrality if we are arming one of the factions," Kotake pointed out, her expression that of a teacher prodding him for deeper reflection.
"I am the King of the Gerudo. I am not neutral, nor will I pretend to be. I pursue the best interests of my people, and that interest is peaceful economic cooperation between all the peoples of Hyrule. If there is any rationality at all in the courts of Hyrule, they will recognize that as well."
The elder Gerudo woman approved with a slight smile. Then, she pursed her lips in deep contemplation and tapped her foot rhythmically on the tiles of his terrace.
"In that case, we should prepare our seaports to trade with the Zonai covertly," she proposed. "Whatever happens, we may have reason to hide some of our activity from Pelaris, and the Hylian tax collectors there can be 'persuaded' not to sell that out. Our sands grant us a great deal of secrecy and places to bury bodies if it comes to that. I also think you should pay Lady Tabanth a visit. Our connection to her province is not nearly as profitable as the route to Hyrule field, but it can be obscured, if she can be convinced of the merits of such."
"Both good ideas. I'll move on them tomorrow," Khanot agreed. Then, he shook his head again, sorrow crossing his red-bearded face. "Which means I shouldn't get comfortable here, I suppose. I'm all the more pleased that Nabouri came with you, then. It's already been too long since I've seen her, and we'll need to talk about what to do if the war breaks out while I'm gone. Oh, Heroines, but I hope it doesn't come to this."
Kotake chuckled. "Ah, if only you were King of all Hyrule, my boy. The world would never have to worry about war."
"If only. Of course, then I would never get back to Gerudo City."
"The Skulltula wouldn't argue."
He chuckled, but the mirth didn't get much footing. The two Gerudo sat in silence, pondering their position, while Khanot put the finishing touches on his offering to his beloved. He looked the completed crown of woven jasmine over thrice, nodded, then ritualistically replaced the aged specimen on her old throne, his mind set on the day he lost her. The ache had dulled somewhat over the last nine years, but it was still present. He didn't know if time would permit him to move past it fully, nor did he know if he wanted to let it go. Rajiya's place in his life would always be empty. Her line, and therefore Nabouri's, went all the way back to the first Heroine ever to set foot on the sands of Gerudo. Marrying another woman and bringing new children into the world would confuse that lineage, and complicate Nabouri's place in the kingdom. Khanot refused to malign her memory like that. It was better for him to forever suffer the empty throne beside him, the vacant seats in carriages and on palanquins, the lonely dances and festivals in Hyrule, and the long, silent roads. In many ways, he deserved to pay that price. It was his fault that she had perished on the bleak road they had taken that morning, southwest to a hidden oasis and unknowingly along a Molduga's haunt. Heroines forgive him! May he never fail so again.
The job completed, Khanot cast the old crown into the hearth to be consumed when next a fire was lit. Then, he scooped up the unused pieces of jasmine brought by Kotake, walked to the north-eastern facing edge of his terrace, and cast them into the air. The breeze caught them and scattered them like ash in the wind. Below, several of the sparring children noticed them and began collecting them, possibly for their mothers. They looked up at the source of the flowers, saw their king, and waved in thanks. Khanot bowed back and fought a tear. Kotake appeared beside him, resting a weathered hand on his arm.
"Rajiya is pleased with you too, Khanot," she whispered.
"Thanks."
They stood like that for some time, their minds adrift in the wider world. Khanot watched the market of Qaijkarah beneath him, where people from every clime bartered and traded. He then imagined the place empty, its stalls vacant, its homes boarded, its oasis left untapped save for the occasional camels and sand seals of wandering herdsmen. It stung to realize that it was possible. To think that for all his work to the contrary, the prosperity of his people could be so fragile! He was king of the Gerudo, the one son born to them in a hundred years, a rarity of grace and power. There had to be more he could do. He had worked hard to build a prosperous nation. He would not watch it crumble before him. He would not leave Nabouri, his darling daughter and last vestige of both their nation's proud matriarchal heritage and his beloved Rajiya, with nothing.
"Father? Father, there you are!" Nabouri called from the stairs.
Khanot turned to greet his daughter just as she wrapped him in an embrace that was as much a tackle as a hug. He held her close, the joy only a father could know combining with his resolve in his troubled heart. Heroines, but she was almost as tall as he was now! He didn't even have to dodge the jagged tips of the Crown of Thunder anymore.
"Nabouri! Oh, how I've missed you! How are you doing?"
"I'm doing well, whatever Kotake says to the contrary."
"My dear, when have I ever so much as teased you?" Kotake interjected playfully.
She answered with a sassy glare. "So, just to head off the stories, no – I am not keeping a Sand Seal in my room, I did not shoot the captain of the guard in the thigh with a blunt arrow, and no, I did not throw a bucket of water off the balcony onto Lady Savaij. In fact, that was a complete accident by the cleaning staff. So there, Grandma!"
Khanot grinned. The nuance of the relationship between the ancient royal advisor and the Gerudo boy that wandered into a patrol of guards in the desert those years earlier went always beyond Nabouri's head. Her father's adopted mother was her grandma, and that was that.
"However, it is true that she gave said cleaning staff double pay and cake that afternoon," Kotake added with a mischievous smirk.
"I… well, yes, that is true. But the important thing is that I've been doing my best, father."
Khanot's heart glowed with warmth.
"I know you are, Nabouri. I have never doubted you. You have my complete confidence, as always."
She beamed. "Now come on! We've prepared a feast for you downstairs!" she explained, tugging on his arm.
"A feast? At this time of day?"
"Sure! I wanted to celebrate your homecoming before some stupid Rito showed up saying you had to leave again! And I have someone to introduce to you."
Khanot traded a concerned glance with Kotake. Nabouri rolled her eyes.
"Ugh, he's not a suitor! He's a scholar who found something very interesting at an excavation a few miles from the Arbiter's Grounds."
"Oh really?" Khanot said, helping Kotake to the stairs. He didn't know what a scholar could have possibly found that could intrigue his archery-loving daughter so.
"Yes! It's an ancient sword, impossibly old, yet it hasn't aged a day."
Ah, now that made sense.
"What kind of sword?"
"He said no one knows. We don't have any idea what it's made of either. It's white, with four swirling designs at the crosstree and two little lugs near the tip of the blade. I've seen it, and even though the design isn't very practical, it just looks… it's hard to say, it just feels powerful. I wanted to hold it but since it was near the Arbiter's Grounds, he said that wasn't a good idea. I hope it turns out to be safe, though. Imagine if it used to belong to one of the Heroines! I could kill a lynel with a sword used by my great, great, great, however many greats grandmother, wearing a crown possibly just as old, and my mother's shield. What a day that would be!"
Nabouri continued to explain her excitement for the find while the three Gerudo went downstairs to the still-preparing festivities. Khanot met the scholar in question, a Zonai fellow from the Tribe of the Boar, and listened to his highly technical report on where the weapon was found. He did his best to follow the explanation and show excitement, for Nabouri's sake if no other, but he struggled. Nor did he find respite in the celebration thrown in his honor, when it was finished. The truth that he would have to leave again soon hurt. He missed his homeland. He missed his daughter. The potential costs of an open, expensive, plot-ridden war breaking out between the Zonai and Sheikah weighed on him heavier still. Every plate before his eyes taunted what it would mean if he failed. Without trade, the Sheikah-grown potatoes and carrots, Zonai raised beef, mutton, chicken, and corn, Hylian pork, beans, and bread, Zora-caught fish, and cuts of Rito-hunted caribou and moose would all vanish. His people would then be left with a handful of fruits and lamb. While they would survive, the thriving they had enjoyed for decades would end. Khanot had not been born the one Gerudo king in a century, swathed in glory and power, to watch his kingdom reduced to scavenging tribes and leave Nabouri with ruins. Just like the Zonai he admired, he would not back down before the threat. He would succeed.