Simamukele

1

It was compulsory for all the initiates to wake up early, to prepare their minds and bodies for the day ahead. No matter how many times they had done it before, the process was still a dreadful one.

They had to bath with icy cold water mixed with herbs. The herbs were for cleansing and protection. What followed after was the meditation. It offered little relief from the gnawing process but it was relief nonetheless.

Simamukele returned to her mother's cave, with her teeth chattering wildly. The rhythm accentuated her annoyance.

"Tho-ko-za." She greeted her mother after kneeling on the cold, hard floor that was decorated with bits of grass, flowers and moss.

"Thokoza, Gogo." Her mother reciprocated.

Simamukele let out a heavy sigh.

"Wha-t is-it mother?" She asked, breaking the rhythm of her chattering teeth.

Her mother stood up and started pacing.

"Mother." Simamukele sighed. "It was much more colder today down the river and my meditation had too many ripples in it. Now I know why, and your agitation is making it worse."

Surprisingly, she stopped chattering.

"The cold is always the same. But for some reason no one ever gets used to it." Her mother stopped pacing when she spoke.

"It's these damned mountains! But that is not the point." She said.

"What is the point then?" Her eyes scouted the entire room but they skipped over her child.

"Mother it is like the umbilical cord was never chopped and burried. You are acting weird, I felt from down the river, a barrier between me and my guides. Usually when you're acting like this, it has something to do with the filth down there." She looked outside the cave, repulsion clearly evident in her face and her body language. She dragged out mucus from it's deepest depths and spat on the floor.

Her mother looked at the mucus but never at her.

"Someone cleaned this morning, that's disrespectful." She scolded her, "and do not call them filth, they are Royals."

Simamukele would have rather cut out her own tounge and give away her voice before calling them or acknowledging them as Royals.

"Your words not mine." She said proudly.

"This is important." Her mother said. "I also noticed that you're not cold anymore." She pointed out.

"Just because you got me angry doesn't mean I owe you." She tried to subdue the anger in her words out of respect for her mother.

"I've indirectly helped you, yes. But it's still help nonetheless." She patted her daughter's head, who was still kneeling.

"What is it?" She said whilst sulking.

Her mother's demeanor went from agitated to confident in a second. Simamukele felt it of course.

"You are to escort the princess from village and her here. You will take an entourage. It is crucial that you protect her, even with your life." Her mother instructed.

Simamukele laughed. Her laughter was crackled and humour less. She tilted her head and spoke.

"My life?" Her voice was eery. Simamukele was no longer one with her body, as it slowly opened up as vessel for whater spirit had taken ahold of her.

Her mother placed a palm on Simamukele's forehead.

"Return." She whispered in the language of the spirits. Simamukele's neck snapped back into it's original posture. She breathed out heavily and her teeth started chattering again. But it was not as vigorous as before.

"I will not do it." She was hyperventilating slowly.

"You are one of my best. I do not expect you to die." She looked at her daughter.

"Why..."

She stopped talking when what she assumed would be the entourage marched in. They kneeled and bowed before her mother.

"It's an honour, queen mother." They all spoke simultaneously.

Simamukele and her mother simultaneously shot looks at each other , then at the entorauge.

"Leave us!" Her mother instructed and they did as told.

"Queen mother?" Simamukele furrowed her brows as an indication of confusion. "You and I both know that was not intentional. I felt it. Why do I not know this?"

Her mother started to figdet again.

"Filth." Simamukele said under her breath.

"He is your brother." Her mother said.

Simamukele waited for her to explain further without jumping to conclusions. It would take much more to calm her down the second time around.

"You're going to escort your brother's wife. The prince." She cleared her throat.

"And how is he my brother?"

"Well, Uhm... The ... The... The king's wife was barren and I offered my services. The first born was a boy and the second born..."

"Was me." She finished her mother's sentence.

"Of course it was me. The pretty child can stay and be spoiled rotten but the ugly child , no. She gets casted away out in the cold." She scoffed sarcastically.

"It's not like that."

"How is it mother?" Tears threatened as her voice broke. "They treat us like the lowest of beings but we have to just jump as high as we can whenever they ask!"

Her mother remained silent.

"Our lineage depends on it. I usually don't ask you for missions related to the Royals because I respect your feelings but this, I only trust you with." Her mother beckoned her with her eyes. She was oozing earnesty and Simamukele felt it.

She stood up and bowed infront of her.

"Call them back in." She sighed.

The euphoria eminating from her mother surrounded her in a few minutes. She tried to fight it but she couldn't.

"Listen to her at all times. Her word is my word." Her mother told the entorauge that consisted of three boys and three girls.

"It's an honour, princess." They bowed at Simamukele.

"Could you please stop saying that. There's no honour here. I like the princess part though." She smirked.