The Other Rogers

Chapter 34

Anya stood next to Shuri watching as she and her mother danced on the boat, the sound of the magic flowed through her body as her feet slightly tapped on the surface.

She watched as Okoye and the other Dora Milaje as they slammed their spears down, a large movement travelled under the water's surface. Soon water stopped flowing, as they climbed out of the boats, Shuri's hand clenching one of Anya's.

The sound of a waterfall caught Anya's attention as she looked around. The sight was magnificent, majestic in its simplicity. It was the day Shuri and Ramonda had been waiting for, the day T'Challa became king.

"Why are you hiding?" Shuri whispered to her, pulling her out of the shadows.

Anya shook her head not believing that she should have been invited to such a monumental celebration. "I am not."

She argued as she tried to sidestep the teenager, but found herself almost sliding down the wet surface, her body acting as if it was like the water trickling down the rock face.

Gripping onto the crevices, she stared above her. The entire population of Wakanda seemed to be perched on the cliff, watching as a new king was crowned. One of their many jets flew past them, hovering as a ramp descended. T'Challa came out.

They all cheered, the sound of their cries and stomping, kept the spirit alive. Shuri held out a hand, helping Anya to stand back next to her as they watched an older man who name had momentarily escaped Anya's memory stood, T'Challa kneeling next to him.

T'Challa had war paint that was supposed to resemble a panther; his eyes black with anticipation as he followed the movement of everyone.

"I, Zuri, Son of Badu, give to you, Prince T'Challa, the Black Panther."

The crowd screamed; a wave of happiness travelled through them all.

Zuri held up a vessel, "The Prince will now have the strength of the Black Panther stripped away." Zuri then proceeded to pour the liquid down T'Challa's throat.

Anya's medical mind jumped in horror as the man reacted violently, choking on the purple fluid, she watched as he spasmed, his veins expanded and his muscles contracted as the poison spread through him, coating every inch of him.

She felt so lost unaware of their culture as everyone surrounding the cliff-face crossed their arms and bounced their shoulders.

Eventually T'Challa stopped shaking and exhaled slowly. Seeing that the prince was indeed fine, Zuri turned to the audience and cried out, "Damaku."

The crowd repeated him, Shuri and Ramonda were almost in tears as they watched.

"Victory in ritual combat comes by yield or death. If any tribe wishes to put forth a warrior, I now offer a path to the throne."

Anya's eyes widened and a breath caught in her throat. What kind of ritual was this?

A man who Anya thought was dressed more as an ancient Arab than African, cried out and crossed his arm, holding a scimitar. The elder of the tribe stood next to him and called out, "The Merchant Tribe will NOT challenge today."

This continued through the remaining three tribes, all of them refusing the challenge. Until finally there were no more tribes to contend. Zuri called out, "Is there any member of royal blood who wishes to challenge for the throne?"

Anya smirked as she watched Shuri raise her hand, and a collective gasp waived through the audience.

"This corset is really uncomfortable. So, could we all just wrap it up and go home?"