Lwazi's royal grandfather had been the most happy to know his grandson had been able to get the location of the grave in such a short time.
His joyous proud laugh had echoed through the grey walls of his throne room.
"Raising you wasn't in vain!" he had exclaimed joyfully, knowing his kingdom was in safe hands.
"You will make a great leader! a great leader!" he had repeated those words as they rang in Lwazi's ears like church bells. Causing a repetition of annoyance and fear in him.
"Grandfather?" he had questioned whilst kneeling, finding it hard to welcome such news.
Three of his uncles were still alive, the other as capable and fiers just as the other.
"Come sit," the old man had gotten off from his high chair and instead, went to sit below, at the stairs. Lwazi had hesitantly went to sit beside his grandfather, who's happy smile had been suddenly wiped off. His eyebrows resting heavily on top of his eyes, suddenly making it seem as though he had been exhausted.
"Lwazi," he had whispered before sighing deeply, not knowing where to start with his grievances, afraid his voice would never be enough to come as conviction for Lwazi to bare with him.
"Some things, might seem the most dull when the sun is high above our heads, but, when the night is silent, whilst the moon won't come out, and the stars are hidden behind the clouds, they shine the brightest," he ran around circles trying to open his grandson's eyes a little further.
Lwazi didn't say anything, this was of course expected from him. He never really spoke more than necessary. Maybe it was because of all the assignments he had to carry out since young he had only been used to nodding his head then carrying on to do what was expected from him. This was his duty as a child.
"Your uncles seem to have a solid foundation of respect and love on the outside," his eyes beamed with sadness as he silently took on Lwazi's hand. "But who knows how many times they've tried to kill each other behind the curtains.." he wondered.
How many schemes had the royal Lord hidden just to keep the peace within the growing turmoil of his family? If most had heard his words, they would all have wondered.
"You are a third generation, the only future this imperial family has." his lips moved in motion which seemed a little bit distant from his actions. Because, if he really thought so, why had he treated Lwazi so cold all those years?
"You seem cold, and distant. You hate disloyalty and are the most loyal to your people. Your heart carries so much benevolence," when his grand father had carried on to say those words, Lwazi had had a quick vision of his actions at the Crystal Prince's camps.
Could he really be considered as kind hearted? What did it really mean to be kind hearted? "I have raised you in sweats programming you to be the greatest leader this Kingdom needs." The grand father had breathed out, seeming satisfied, yet saddened by his actions. "You are such a good child," His grandfather had carried on to say as sadness carried on to cloud his sight.
The old King had risen from his sit, silently letting go of Lwazi's hands. Lwazi's hands suddenly felt cold, and somewhere deep in his heart, he suddenly felt his grandfather's loneliness.
The alley to the exit of the throne room had been long as his grandfather slowly walked to the door. "Your grandmother only remembers me on certain days. The sons I have raised with my blood and bones might kill me in my sleep and weep at my corpse. The westerners are out for our land. And I must remain this cold ruthless Monarch, such is the life of a great King," he had laughed out painfully, as he carried on to carry his hands on his back as a way to support himself.
As his grandfather took the long steps to the door, Lwazi had suddenly realised how really slow his old man walked, how huge the hall was, and how cold it felt. He wondered how a regular home would feel like. What a mother's love felt like, and if he could ever escape the sand storms he was born in. Such was the life of a royal son.
Before his grandfather was out of the two huge iron doors, Lwazi had kneeled yelling out, "I thank his majesty's benevolence and grace."
The King had tensed at the door before turning to glance at his kneeling grandson. He nodded at him, a sympathetic smile being silently drawn on his face.
He was of course happy that Lwazi had agreed to become the crowned prince. However, he felt saddened by his actions.
Which grandfather in the world put his hopes, responsibilities and every weight of the world in the hands of a child? "A good child indeed," he had whispered to himself as he took another step outside, getting the glimpse of the hush air of the summer.
The next day, before the sun had risen, before the third chicken's cry was heard. Lwazi was already kneeling at the sacred stage, receiving rules and him yelling out his obligations as the crowned prince.
He had been gifted with a new coat, a new upgrade of colour, showing his ranking. Silver robes were his new signature. He was handed his own army, on top of the army he had to take over after his father had died. Just yesterday, he was just a child trying to keep his father's legacy alive, the next morning, he already had large amounts of land and a right to the imperial accounts.
"Come, come child," his grandmother had suddenly called him to her embrace. When her hands had touched his, she had excitedly held his cheeks in adoration and kissed his forehead, "your bearing is as heavy as Nala's." before Lwazi could react to take a few steps back or go to hide just to forget her name was ever mentioned. His grandmother had carried on to speak breaking Lwazi's heart further, "Who are you child?" she had questioned.
"replying to her highness," Lwazi had firstly said to pay his respects, "the imperial grandson, Alarick Lwazi," he had replied.
"Alarick Lwazi, whoever named you has a great taste, at least as close as mine" She obviously didn't know it was her who had named him when she had heard his strong cry after he was born.
"You cry was as fierce as strong winds," she would always tell him.
Lwazi had chuckled, finding his heart soften to know some things never changed.
A few minutes later, his grandmother had been taken back to her resting chambers, and his grandfather had carried on to give him his assignment of carrying out a mission of inheriting the spiritual power.
The royalf family, ministers and people included had kneeled, wishing the young boy a great success.
When the sun had started rising up from its sleeping slumber, Lwazi had been given a necklace to command the royal army at his will.
Before the young lad had carried on to get on top of the horse, he had pulled a close attended whispering a few words to him, "the child, he's coming with us," he said, then getting on the horse along with his elite soldiers.
The people at the sacred stage, all had kneeled at large, hoping their crowned prince would safely return.
*****
Tumaini had been sleeping at his bed, after he had fainted the moment he entered the palace gates. It wasn't because he had experienced death first hand that he was frightened. But just how all his men had been killed with a snap of someone's fingers.
His mother, Nala, had been staying by his side, since he had come home a day ago, his clothes painted red and his face lost in colour. He kept whimpering in his sleep, as if trying to fight something, his mother knew, whatever he had seen, was beyond what they could expect.
Whilst Nala tried to cool his burning temperature with a wet cloth, Tumaini's eyes were open shot in a blink of an eye and he had jolted from sleep with a jump as if that's all he had been fighting to do for the last twenty four hours.
He had strongly held his mother's arm from shock and fear, afraid he was still under his foe's gase.
"Mother," he had breathed out after realising he was in his room, "Tumaini," The Crystal Queen had whispered, touching her son's forehead to check how much of the fever had subsided.
"State Uncle's killer," he had whispered, clenching at his mother's palm, trying hard to keep on breathing, and to keep fear from entering his heart.
"You saw him?" she questioned with curiosity and fear. Afraid what he might have witnessed should he had been face to face with him.
"He took young cousin, and sent me to relay a message," his eyebrows furrowed and wondered why his mother suddenly shook.
When Tumaini came to the Queen's ear to whisper, he could imagine just how Lwazi had neared to his ear that night, slowly, his cold dark eyes waving a sense of questioning and distance as their eyes met.
Lwazi had held him by the neck, mouth to ear, those words had ran through his tongue with a lace of questioning mockery, "How long does the Spirit daughter plan to keep us Siblings from meeting?" Lwazi had questioned beside Tumaini's head. "Should I come for all that's mine until she gives me full recognition?" he had questioned again as a threat.
Nala's eyes had nearly been budged out of her eye sockets. Nearly getting choked by the mere existence of oxygen in her mouth.
he started to clearly remember those restless nights at the Wolf Region. As night after night they had worked on her for their imperial grandchild. And as his scream of terror after he had been born had always remained in her nightmares.
She had strongly held on to her son's arm, touching him with all her might, hoping his attention would only be for her, only her.
"out, now," she had commanded to the nearing attendants hoping no one would ever hear. A few young teenage girls who had been cleaning around the Second Princes Chamber had hurriedly went out. Leaving only the mother and child inside.
"Your sister, I must hurry to marry her off to the Northern Kingdom. I fear doom is yet to befall us," she had fearfully accepted her future that was slowly coming for her.
Tumaini had thought twice to ask anymore questions. Not knowing where to start, and suddenly fearing his mother's agony that was written all over her eyes. He nodded firmly, "And since they have found his Grandfather's grave, I'll do my best to-" Tumaini was suddenly cut off by his mother, pushing his hands away hating the idea of seeing him journey to the Blue Valley. "Let your older brother take care of it," she firmly tired to convince him.
Tumaini remained confused, wondering how it was any different to have him stay, yet have another son of hers go? Did she really not love Moti as much as he would always whine out? What was she hiding?