The Blood Of The Zakkazana Princess
Once, long ago, gods walked the earth like people, toying with their mortal followers, and wielding their powers for their own selfish desires.
Many had tried to stand up for the rights of people, but those who refused to bow down to the gods quickly found themselves with a one-way ticket to the afterlife.
Of all the gods, one of the worst was Zakkazana. He ruled over his islands with an iron fist, and seemed to revel in the misery of others. His favourite pastime was eating the lush tumta fruit while watching warriors battle for his own amusement. Warriors trained hard to be worthy of fighting in Zakkazana's arena, knowing that they would fight whether they were worthy or not, and if they did not win, they would die.
One warrior, a woman, and daughter of a local chieftain, caught the eye of Zakkazana. She had won her first battle in the arena when he approached her. He demanded she throw down her sword and devote herself to him. The princess wiped her tears from her eyes with the back of her hand, her palms dripping red with the blood of her cousin she had been forced to fight.
"I would rather die at my own hands than let you touch me."
The god laughed, not thinking her serious. "You are just a woman, and all women love me. You will come to me willingly."
The woman spat at his feet. "The day the sands of the island turn red with the blood of the innocents who have died for your amusement, the day the tumta fruits turn ashen in your mouth like fire of hope which you have snuffed out, the day the very rain is salty with the tears of the mothers who have lost their children to your blood lust. This is the day I will come to you willingly, and it will be your last day on this plane."
The god laughed once more, slapping her hard across the face before he returned to his seat beneath the tumta tree. He thought this mortal more foolish than most, and while she looked pleasing he was glad he had discovered her defective brain early.
A full moon passed before he saw the princess again. This time she was more radiant, her pleasing appearance now almost too much to bear. Rather than risk her saying something off-putting once more, he decided to follow her. She made her way to the centre of the island until she reached his temple.
"Zakkazana," she cried, falling to her knees. "Zakkazana, I am here."
The god grinned as he marched forward, pleased that he could have this woman as his own. He caught the tumta fruit that she threw to him and happily bit into it. The lush fruit turned to dust in his mouth and all he could taste was rot and decay. Angered, he shouted, "What fool's trick is this?"
The woman smiled, but said nothing.
The weather matched Zakkazana's mood, pelting those all around in pebble sized rain drops. As the first drop hit the sand, Zakkazana watched in horror as the sand turned from bright white to blood red.
"Witch!" he cried.
But the woman laughed, holding her head back to allow the rain to fall into his mouth. The god copied her, and tasted the harsh salt in each drop. "What have you done?"
This time the princess answered. "There is magic older than gods, there is magic stronger and infinitely more terrifying than any that you hold. I asked a favour and it was granted. All that is left is for me to pay the price." With that she pulled out a dagger and shoved it deep into her breast, Her blood poured out into the sand and as the life left her body, so too the god blinked out of existence.
The people rejoiced that they were no longer under Zakkazana's tyrannical reign, and while they mourned the loss of their princess they found courage in her strength. None wanted to stay on the island after that, instead they travelled far and wide, spreading the word of their princess's sacrifice and helping return the gods back to where they belonged.
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