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<h2 class="post-hero-title text-h1">Read an Excerpt From <i>Birth of a Dynasty</i> by Chinaza Bado</h2>
<div class="prose post-hero-description prose--post-hero">We shall not forgive. We shall not forget. We will have our vengeance.</div>
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<p class="post-hero-author text-xs font-aktiv uppercase font-medium [&_a]:link-hover">By <a href="https://reactormag.com/author/chinaza-bado/" title="Posts by Chinaza Bado" class="author url fn" rel="author">Chinaza Bado</a></p>
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Published on July 2, 2025
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<p>We’re thrilled to share an excerpt from <em><strong>Birth of a Dynasty</strong></em> by Chinaza Bado, the start of a thrilling epic fantasy trilogy centered around three families’ fight for power in Ahkebulin, a land where magic is feared, giants are real, and prophecy holds sway. <em>Birth of a Dynasty</em> published with from Harper Voyager on July 29<sup>th</sup>.</p>
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<figure class="wp-block-pullquote has-text-align-left"><blockquote><p>After witnessing the massacre of everyone he’s ever known and loved, M’Kuru Mukundi, the sole surviving member of the High Noble House Mukundi of Madada, vows revenge. M’kuru flees to a small village where he hides under the guise of farm boy Khalil Rausi… unaware that the real Khalil’s father is the bloodthirsty General of Zenzele army, and under the direction of the King’s scheming son, Prince Effiom, was responsible for the murder of M’kuru’s people. When an imposter claiming to be M’kuru shows up in the village, the real M’kuru—now Khalil—must bide his time amongst his enemies, pretending to be everything that he hates in order to get vengeance.<br><br>In another part of the country where giants roam free, young Zikora Nnamani, the only daughter of Lord Nnamani, knows nothing of political intrigue—she wants little more than to be a fierce Seh Llinga warrior. But a well-known prophecy places too much potential power on her small shoulders, and—as far as Prince Effiom and the King know—she is the only living threat to their dynasty ruling forever. However, when a messenger arrives to “invite” Zikora to stay at the palace, her family is not in a position to refuse. Before she is taken away, she begins The Rite of Blessing, a magical inheritance that she will need to learn how to use, but that may also bring the world one step closer to the completion of the prophecy that Prince Effiom so fears.<br><br>Between scheming ladies at court, backstabbing princes on the prowl, and paranoid kings, M’kuru and Zikora must do what they can, no matter how terrible, to save their people and claim vengeance for their families. But they are just two young people against an entire kingdom—and a prophecy destined to thwart their dreams—and the last thing they can do is trust anyone… even each other.</p></blockquote></figure>
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<p>“Who are you?” his mother asked with a wide smile. There was no fear or tears, just joy, something he could not understand, not with the sounds of screams from their maids and servants outside, not with the roars of the soldiers as they struck them down. There was so much blood that it produced a stench in the air that made him sick. How could anyone still keep a smile on their face? And yet, his mother, Lady Mukundi, found a way.</p>
<p>“Who are you?” she asked again, but he could not answer. Instead, he flinched as he heard another shriek for help outside the door.</p>
<p>“I am Neema Mukundi of Madada, the one born in prosperity,” his elder sister, who looked like their mother, spoke instead. Everyone said they looked almost identical, with the same round face and birthmark under their right eye. And although their mother was slightly shorter, and her hair held wisps of gray, her skin had not a single wrinkle.</p>
<p>His mother’s dark eyes shifted to him, and she squeezed his shoulders once again before repeating her question softly. “Who are <em>you</em>?”</p>
<p>“I am M’kuru Mukundi of Madada, the one who climbs over fear and death,” he answered softly, his voice barely above a whisper. Despite the meaning of his name, all he felt was fear, and all he sensed was death.</p>
<p>“So, you <em>can </em>talk softly.” His mother giggled, pinching his ear gently as she always did when he was in trouble or would not listen or when he went around their home yelling. From the day his cries were first heard throughout Madada to this very moment, M’kuru had never once whispered.</p>
<p>“Are you afraid, M’kuru? Is that why your voice has become so? I cannot have that. Tell me again. Who are you? Say it with all the air in your chest.”</p>
<p>He stood straighter, held his head high, and spoke louder this time. “I am M’kuru Mukundi of Madada, the one who climbs over fear and death.”</p>
<p>“Yes. Exactly.” His mother nodded proudly and shook him vigorously. “You are Neema and M’kuru Mukundi, high nobles of Madada, the daughter and son of M’Deba and Esha. You are fierce, steadfast, strong, and born with the wisdom of ages. That is who you are. That is who you will always be. They can never take that from you because it is in your blood!”</p>
<p>She squeezed his shoulders tighter than ever, and M’kuru lifted his much smaller hand to hold on to her wrist, squeezing it in return.</p>
<p>“My lady!”</p>
<p>Four maids rushed in. On their uniform was their family emblem, the Liabrein—the now-forgotten bigger and stronger sister of the lion—with long, curved, saber-shaped canine teeth that protruded from its mouth even when closed. But on their emblem, the Liabrein’s mouth was wide open and its head turned upward. So ferocious—and yet it couldn’t seem to protect them now. The maids slammed the doors closed behind them as they gripped their blood-covered swords. Lady Mukundi did not answer them, never looking away from her son and daughter, not even as the two maids began to pour oil onto the ground and the walls.</p>
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<p>“Break it down!” a voice outside the doors hollered as the other two maids stood before them, lifting their swords.</p>
<p>Only then did Lady Mukundi let go of her son, but M’kuru grabbed her hand again.</p>
<p>“Come with us, Mother.”</p>
<p>“A lady stays with her lord to the very end,” she said, and drew her hand back. She rushed to the end table, tossed it aside, and lifted the floorboards to show them the way down the stairs. “Go, and do not stop for anyone!” she hollered at them.</p>
<p>Without a second thought, Neema grabbed her brother’s hand, took the sword entrusted to her by her father, and ran down the stairs.</p>
<p>“Mother!” M’kuru yelled back as he was dragged into the darkness. Lady Mukundi’s smile as she watched them go never fell or wavered, and the light from her room was the only thing M’kuru could see as it began to go up in flames of red and orange, the heat from the fire so hot he could feel it on his face.</p>
<p><em>Goodbye </em>was the last thing she mouthed to him before the hidden door shut.</p>
<p>They ran, hand in hand, in the darkness, and soon that darkness felt like hell even though there was no fire in the passage, because the walls themselves warmed, growing hotter and hotter the farther they went.</p>
<p>“We are almost there, Six!” Neema called out to him.</p>
<p>She called him Six for the same reason she called her other brothers One, Three, Four, and Five—to tease them, knowing they hated it, and because as the only daughter of the Mukundi family, their baba would allow her to get away with it.</p>
<p>He didn’t complain now, glad she was there with him. So focused were both of them on running, and because it was dark—and everything else that lived in darkness sensed the danger and the heat—she did not notice the snake also trying to make its escape until it was too late, and it bit her.</p>
<p>“Ugh!”</p>
<p>“Neema?” M’kuru called out when she let go of his hand and fell to her knees. “Neema, are you okay?”</p>
<p>She unsheathed the sword, stabbing it into the head of the snake. He was unsure how she could see clearly, even in the dark, but Neema always had the best vision of them all.</p>
<p>“I’m fine. We need to keep going,” she lied. She didn’t feel fine at all, but nothing could make her feel fine, not in this oven masquerading as a tunnel, so she dragged the sword along the ground with one hand, hoping to scare anything else away, and led her brother with the other.</p>
<p>“Don’t worry, M’kuru. We are going to make it out of here. We’ll go south to Winneba. You’ve always wanted to go to Winneba to see the giants, right? Just don’t be scared when we meet them. Apparently, they are a very sensitive people, which makes sense, for their hearts are three times as big. The stories of them eating children aren’t true. They aren’t scary. The giants don’t even eat meat. They are vegetarians.”</p>
<p>“How do you know?” M’kuru asked. “You’ve never been to Winneba either.”</p>
<p>“I have a friend there. He’ll help us,” she replied, stopping to take a breath and wipe the sweat from her brow, muttering what her baba taught her, “Run north till you smell the fresh water, then push the lever in the walls.”</p>
<p>She could smell the water, so she began to feel against the wall until she hit the lever. It burned, the fire enough to make even this metal hot, but she didn’t hesitate, and the ceiling above them cracked open.</p>
<p>“Yes!” she cried, happy at the sight of the moonlight streaming in. Hinging her sword, she reached up and pushed as hard as she could, the earth slipping away. She pulled herself out, then turned back and pulled M’kuru out.</p>
<p>When they both stood on the grass mound of the Bamboo Forest, overlooking their family home in the distance, they just watched as the fire raged through the house, glowing in the night and eating everything it touched. The crackling was so loud and the heat so harsh, even from where they stood on the hilltop it caused the birds to fly away. The smoke was so black it began to blanket the full moon. But to them, the fire was merciful in comparison to the soldiers, who had dragged anyone within their house out, one by one, and set them on their knees before slitting their throats.</p>
<p>“We have to go. We have to go now, Six.” Pulling his arm, Neema tried to turn with him and escape into the forest.</p>
<p>“<em>Zenzele!</em>”</p>
<p>They both froze when they heard this roar, the hair on their hands rising as their hearts dropped to an even deeper pit in their stomachs.</p>
<p>“Baba…” Neema whispered as they both turned back.</p>
<p>They couldn’t speak or look away. They just stared at him, their baba, as half his body was engulfed in flames, with arrows in his arms and legs and a deep cut that sliced through his clothes into his chest. The sight of him, still gripping his swords and cutting people down, caused the other soldiers to back up, terrified of him.</p>
<p>“<em>Zenzele!</em>” he roared again, with a strength that shook the heavens. Any soldier who dared to step forward was sent straight to hell as his blade cut them down one by one.</p>
<p>“<em>Zenzele!</em>”</p>
<p>Even when they managed to stab him, he did not fall. He merely removed their swords from his body and fought on. In his mind, M’kuru could not put that man and the man he’d watched only that morning, who spilled his wine over his hands and handed his mother a flower, together with the man at this moment, who no longer looked to be human.</p>
<p>“Come!” he yelled to the soldiers. When he stepped forward, the soldiers stumbled back in fear… all but one.</p>
<p>The man across from him sat on a large black horse, dressed in scaled red armor accented with silver spikes, one on each arm, one on each shoulder, and two upon his helmet. Upon his chest plate was the symbol of a sun with a spear in the center, and in his hands that very same spear with a crescent blade. The soldiers around him were dressed similarly—without silver but with the same red armor to tell everyone they were part of the Red Sun.</p>
<p>M’kuru thought that man in the red and silver armor had to be the Zenzele their baba was calling out to. However, the man moved to the right, showing another man on a horse of white dressed in silver-and-gold armor, and instead of spikes on his shoulders, it was wings.</p>
<p>“You.” Lord Mukundi laughed at seeing him. “Tell your father, Prince Effiom—for I swear by my blood that spills upon the earth and the ancestors who watch over us all—your lineage shall weep in agony. You will run to the ends of the earth in fear, and we will find you still. You will cry out for mercy and be given none! The heavens will not forgive, and Madada will not forget! The Mukundi <em>will </em>have its vengeance! This is our oath to you!”</p>
<p>Prince Effiom merely waved his gloved hand, and the soldier with the armor of red and silver kicked into his horse, charging forward.</p>
<p>“Let’s go, Six.” Neema tried to pull her brother away, but he could not and did not want to look away. He watched as their baba’s head was cut from his body with a single swing of the man’s sword. As Lord Mukundi’s body stood for a moment, part of M’kuru still expected him to fight and not surrender, even headless. But there was a limit to even his baba, and M’kuru watched as his baba fell to the ground alongside his brothers.</p>
<p><em>We shall not forgive.</em></p>
<p><em>We shall not forget.</em></p>
<p><em>We will have our vengeance.</em></p>
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<p class="has-sm-font-size">From <em>Birth of a Dynasty</em> by Chinaza Bado, published by Harper Voyager. Copyright © 2025 by Chinaza Bado. Reprinted courtesy of HarperCollinsPublishers.</p>
<p>The post <a href="https://reactormag.com/excerpts-birth-of-a-dynasty-by-chinaza-bado/">Read an Excerpt From <i>Birth of a Dynasty</i> by Chinaza Bado</a> appeared first on <a href="https://reactormag.com">Reactor</a>.</p><p class="ljsyndicationlink"><a href="https://reactormag.com/excerpts-birth-of-a-dynasty-by-chinaza-bado/">https://reactormag.com/excerpts-birth-of-a-dynasty-by-chinaza-bado/</a></p><p class="ljsyndicationlink"><a href="https://reactormag.com/?p=817238">https://reactormag.com/?p=817238</a></p>