//------------------------------//
// Movement 8 - Flight 
// Story: The Ballad of Maelewano 
// by Rambling Writer 
//------------------------------//

The zebras had their camps set up.
The quaggas had theirs, too.
The armies stared at one another
As the tension grew.

The atmosphere was palpable,
The nerves of all were frayed.
This was a fight that could no longer
Ever be delayed.

This was no fight seen every day,
No ordinary brawl.
Soon would the lands’ supremacy
Be settled, once for all.

(I know this buildup may seem worthless
When you know the end.
But storytelling’s what I do;
Let me indulge, my friends.)





The day before the fight broke out,
Some missives were exchanged.
The leaders of both sides would meet
To see if fate might change.

So Maelewano, well-protected,
Went between the troops.
Kiburi, as her bodyguard,
Kept watch for quagga groups.

Bililiqada came as well,
And with guards of her own.
The dirty looks the two exchanged
Could cut down to the bone.

“It doesn’t have to be this way,”
Great Maelewano said.
“If you do not turn back right now,
We won’t stop ’til you’re dead.”

Bililiqada scoffed at this.
“You think that you can fight?
Just years ago, all zebras were
A quite pathetic sight.

You’ve had your time. Accept this fact.
You’re nothing more than dirt.
But if you all surrender now,
You won’t be badly hurt.”

But Maele just spat back, “You lie!
I’ve seen the way you act.
You put a price upon my head.
You killed my diplomats!

You’ve thrown away your one last chance
To leave this land in peace.
Since you deserve no less, I beg:
May death bring no release.”

She turned her back upon her foe
And marched back to her tent.
She’d nothing more that she could say;
Her patience now was spent.

That night, as starlight twinkled down
And fighters soundly slept,
The vultures gathered ’round the armies
On the plains windswept.





The first attack occurred pre-dawn,
When few were still awake.
The quaggas struck a zebra flank
And hoped the line would break.

The groggy sentries held their ground
As best that they still could.
Exhaustion clouded thoughts and acts
And not for long they stood.

And yet their stand had bought some time
To get some others ready.
Adrenaline dispelled all sleep;
The charge was swift and steady.

The sounds of war rang through the morn
And through the camps, word ran.
Soon zebras, galvanized to life,
Attacked the quagga bands.

Thought Maele wanted to assist,
Kiburi held her back.
“All zebras now look up to you
And they would feel your lack.”

For chaos reigned across the plains
As warriors fought and died;
First contact with the enemy
No battle plan survives.

The zebra flanks, by holding strong,
Tore quagga schemes to shreds.
The zebras, driven by reaction,
Had no plans ahead.

Moqapi, with some messengers,
Ran ’cross the fields in haste.
The zebras needed strategy,
Or they’d be laid to waste.

Once the message reached the leaders,
They drew up designs;
The zebras pulled back from the fight
To form their battle lines.

The front moved not for anything,
But stayed locked in defense.
Behind them, fighters did regroup,
Preparing an offense.

A wave of quaggas broke upon
The zebras’ standing might.
The ones who fell were soon replaced
And so the line stayed tight.

Some zebras on the outer edges
Fled the battlefield
But soon returned to hit the quaggas
Behind their walls of shields.

Then once the quaggas’ focus changed,
Already they were gone.
The tactics of this zebra group
Had turned to hit-and-run.

The sun climbed to its zenith high;
The fight raged back and forth.
The tribes’ guerilla strategy
Was proving its great worth.

For as the quaggas’ flanks wore down,
Morale began to break.
The stress the zebras caused to them
Was very hard to take.

To change the most important front,
Bilili formed a plan:
By smashing through their center lines,
She’d end the zebras’ stand.

She gathered all her very best.
Across the fields they raced.
They hit the zebras ’fore they knew
Or had a chance to brace.

They poured into the zebra camps,
Ransacked all they could find.
The zebras panicked; victory
Was in Bilili’s mind.

She spotted Maele struggling
To help with the defense.
Bilili charged to kill the mare
Who had her so incensed.

But with a roar, Kiburi came,
Her spear swift as a storm.
She was sublime in her technique
And elegant in form.

She cut down quaggas, one by one;
Surprise was on her side.
A guardian angel, her blade sent
Her foes to their demise.

The quaggas reeled to take her down,
But she refused to die.
Her fighting kept them all at bay
As she shrieked battle cries.

The break was all Moqapi needed
To regroup her mares.
She pulled them back into the fight,
Reformed and reprepared.

Kiburi still did battle on
Until her spear was shattered.
Her fury stopped the raiding force
And ripped its bulk to tatters.

But she was finally overwhelmed,
The quaggas fell upon her.
They battered her while she was down;
She nearly was a goner.

But ’fore the final blow was struck.
Moqapi’s warning sounded.
The quaggas only realized then
That they were all surrounded.

To the last, they all surrendered,
Threw their weapons down.
Although the quaggas tried their best,
The zebras still held ground.

Across the army, word did spread:
Bilili had been captured.
And with that blow to their morale,
The quaggas’ lines soon fractured.

Without their greatest warriors,
The quaggas turned and fled
For they all knew that if they stayed,
They’d only wind up dead.

Across the plains the zebras roared,
Called out their victory.
The land was theirs; and so, no longer
Victims they would be.

Some did desire to chase the quaggas
Back to their own lands,
But Maele said, “We’ve made our point.
Just let our vict’ry stand.

We are not thugs; no, not like them.
Though we’ll fight if we must,
We’ll seek out peace as our first course;
it’s how we’ll foster trust.”

And so, against their long-time foes,
No vengeance did they seek.
They’d also won the fight that day;
All knew they were not weak.





Bilili, though, was captive held,
For all her heinous deeds.
They did not kill her; ’twas too easy
All the tribes agreed.

Kiburi then, proposed a plan:
“Our captive she’ll remain.
She took our freedom; we’ll take hers.
Her spirit will be slain.”

So when Bilili learned her fate,
She was left truly shocked.
It seemed not quite so long ago
Her captors she had mocked.

What pride she’d left, she gathered up,
And then to Maele said,
“Some bandits still do roam these lands
And soon they’ll kill you dead.”

But Maele said, “Your army’s gone.
Those stragglers soon will follow.
If you persist in taunting us,
Please make your threats less hollow.”

Bilili then was dragged away,
Her life now bound in chains.
She nevermore would be a problem
On the zebran plains.

She would event’lly be released
And sent back home in shame.
All quaggas knew of her defeat
And shunned her very name.

She’d sold them all a life of ease,
Yet only made things worse.
When they would e’er remember her,
’Twas only as a curse.





The day the battle had been won,
Then Maele sent out words
To all the leaders ’cross the plains
Of all the tribes and herds.

When these leaders had been gathered,
Maele said to them,
“We stand right now upon the cusp
Of a new age, my friends.

Our lands belong to us again,
But not like as before.
We’ve made our peace between the tribes;
Please, keep this, I implore.

This unity will only stay
If we discard our past,
Ignore our grudges, great and small,
And make this war our last.

And so I say to you all now:
All zebras are your kin!
If as one tribe we now remain,
This new age can begin!”

The vote was swift, unanimous;
With Maele all agreed.
From cycles old of tribal war,
The zebras would be freed.

Across the army and its sprawl,
Soon tribal lines were blurred.
Camaraderie ne’er seen before
Did spread across the herd.

For after fighting side by side,
Their differences had dwindled.
They learned to love each others’ ways
And friendships they soon kindled.

And when the sun set on that day,
Then Maele’s work was done.
For the first time in history,
All zebra tribes were one.