I heard a faint tune of a song begin to create its path into my dreams, faint and almost lost in the distance. I couldn't make out the words, but a familiar song echoed as it pulled something deep inside me, like a whisper from a life I'd almost forgotten. 

My mind was struggling to remember the memory that lifted just beyond reach. All I could see were stars glimmering in a vast, dark sky, twinkling like promises that had been waiting for me to remember them.

I quickly woke up, gasping for air, my heart racing in my chest. The song faded as I opened my eyes, but the feeling still stayed around, leaving me haunted by the shadows of a memory I couldn't recall.

Before I had a chance to settle my thoughts, there was a knock at the door. I sat up quickly, a habit I had learned from my mother's unannounced morning visits. Her presence had always filled me with a strange mix of dread and expectation, the sound of her knuckles against my door, a summons I could never ignore. But now that she is gone, and that knock held no power over me. Still, the habit of bracing myself had not faded and flicked at any loud bangs and sounds. 

I woke up in bedchamber-cum-arena; a very bleak, dark and ominous room built deep below the palace ground. Though it was a room that felt and appeared menacing, there was always this feeling of warmth and comfort in this room that kept me safe from my mother's anger and abuse towards me. Unfortunately, the arena was, on the other hand, a room that was the exact opposite wish gave my mother the freedom to torture me during my training. 

There was a knock on the door again which then caught my attention. 

"Kena" (Come in), I called, trying to shake off the remnants of the dream.

The door opened, and Lehakwe, one of the castle's housekeepers and the only motherly woman who's a dear friend of mine entered quietly though, delighted to see me while balancing a tray full of food. 

Lehakwe was the one person I felt truly close to, someone who understood me in a way no one else could. Our shared experiences of imperfection and being outcasts brought us together. 

Lehakwe is Albino, and because of that, her family and even her clan of Mofokeng rejected her. My father, having seen the trauma she endured, welcomed her into our home with no hesitation. From that moment, Lehakwe has been nothing but loyal to him and his family. 

When I was born, my parents had a bitter argument over me. Through it all, Lehakwe was there, witnessing the pain I endured growing up on the palace ground. 

She saw me locked away, isolated, suffering in silence. It became a part of my life that I ought not to live in, a misery I learned to live with but not live through. But Lehakwe figured out that pain. She'd felt it herself. She never wanted me to suffer like she had. Seeing her find peace and happiness after my father took her in, she wanted nothing more than to see the same for me, a chance for joy and an end to the loneliness that had marked my entire life.

Before she entered the room, I could hear her humming, like a song that sets her in a good mood. She walked in causally yet singingly terrible. 

"Good morning Lily," that's what she nicknamed me "I hope you're starving because I've prepared you your favourite for today. Porridge topped with strawberries, cherries, mulberries, blueberries-" 

I didn't mean to disrupt the morning rituals of her horrible singing, but old habits were sunken in, and I'd learned the cost of being late based on my mother's nature. 

She gave me a quick, warm smile, her eyes flickering with a hint of concern. As she set the tray down, I pulled myself from bed, reaching for my sword. The weight of the metal against my skin was discomforting. It reminded me of who I was told to be at least, who I thought I had to be.

Lehakwe cleared her throat, breaking the silence. "Princess, ke motšehare o monate. Have you ever thought about ho tsoa?" Her voice was light, but something was searching in her gaze as if she hoped I might take her suggestion to heart.

"I've been outside before" as I was ruffling through new, polished armour and my sword. 

"You were six, o lebelela Ka fensetere for two minutes" 

"Hae (yeah) that means that I've been outside" 

Lehakwe openly mocked me saying "Hae (yeah), then used her normal voice. "Once. Once! And you have been caved-in the palace grounds for 18 years." 

"Come on, at least drink this for me." 

"Sorry Lihakwe, I'll drink it when I'm done with training" 

Lehakwe softened her voice and put the tray on the table as she approached me. "Lily, ha se ntho e tloaelehileng ho wena ho ba ka phapusing ena. Ha ho bolokehile hore o be...monna mona." (Lily, it is not normal for you, to even be in this room. It's not safe for you to be...in here)

I hesitated upon hearing Lehakae words I paused. And now I find myself torn by those words. "Well, what's wrong with here?"

"Well, it's cold, dark, scary. Se room, e sa bontše wena"

How? I said "I was the only one without a gift. I kept hearing stories from the other housekeepers that 'khosatsana Mapula o tsitsitse ebile ha a tsotelle. Ke ne ke qeta nako eohle ea ka ke phomotse ka phaposing ea hae ka pono ea sebele ea leoatle ka hare '"(Princess Pula is so poised and carefree. I would spend all my time relaxing in her room with a real ocean view inside )  I mocked one of the housekeepers. 

"And 'Khosatsana Benya, ke Monate o mokaakang o nang le lerato le leseli pelong ea hae le kamore ea hae.'"(Princess Benya, what a strong monate with the love and light in her heart and her room.)

"And then there's Princess Kekeletso..."

"Ha ke le hantle, ha ke le hantle. Kea utloisisa." (Alright, alright. I understand)

"Maybe this does represent me"

"Nothing in this room represents 'you'. kea tseba hore o tseba seo". (I know that you know that)

"Do you know who 'you' are?"

"I know who I am. God bless you for the food Lindani, let me get back to training" 

"The arena's literally in your bedroom! And I need to clean your room."

"I'll do it after"

"That's what your mother wanted you to think"

"No," I replied shortly, fastening the last strap of my armour. The truth was, I had never been allowed beyond the castle walls. My mother had kept me hidden since birth, a secret from the world, locked away to train and perfect the skills she deemed essential. 

Outside meant exposure, and the thought of it brought a tightness to my chest that I couldn't quite explain. I preferred the security of these walls, even if they sometimes felt like a cage.

"Thank you, Lehakwe," I said as I took the tray. She nodded, lingering for a moment longer than necessary before slipping from the room. Alone once more, I ate quickly, barely tasting the food, my mind already focused on the training ahead.

When I reached the arena, the air was silent, a strange contrast to the usual clamour of early morning training. I scanned the space, confusion prickling at the edges of my thoughts. My usual training partners, soldiers who had grown accustomed to my presence among them, were nowhere to be seen. It was odd, they never missed a session.

I was still pondering their absence when a figure emerged from the shadows. It was Sibusiso, my father's loyal squire, his expression as cool and unreadable as ever. He walked toward me slowly, his gaze fixed on mine, and for a moment, I felt a flicker of unease.

"Why are YOU the only one here, Naleli?" he asked, his voice low and steady.

"I could ask the same," I replied, trying to keep my tone casual. "Where is everyone?"

"They're out by the Baobabs dancing like limping dogs and singing like hyenas," he said, shrugging lightly. "They needed a day off. Or perhaps, days off." His eyes softened and chuckled softly, and I saw a hint of something in his expression, a mix of pity and understanding that unsettled me.

"You should rest too, Naleli," he continued. "You've been through more than anyone realizes. And I know you never truly recovered from what your mother put you through."

The mention of my mother's name brought a sting to my chest, a wave of conflicting emotions that I couldn't suppress. I looked away, fighting to keep my composure.

"I'm fine," I said, my voice barely a whisper.

Sibusiso sighed, stepping closer. "You never got the chance to know your father, not really. He was... different from what you've been told. Kind, caring, open-minded. 

"Without him, I wouldn't be here" Lihakwe interrupted. 

Sibusiso continued "He would have wanted you to live, Naleli... to live. He would have included you in everything, made sure you felt seen and valued." He hesitated as if weighing his words carefully

"Your mother kept you isolated, punished you for things beyond your control. But you deserve better than that. You deserve a chance to know who you truly are."

The words hit me like a blow, piercing through the armour I'd so carefully built around myself. I had always known there was a distance between me and the others, a gap that I couldn't bridge. My mother had made sure of that, her disapproval shaping my sense of worth, making me doubt my place in this world. I was the daughter of a god, yet I felt like a shadow, a ghost among the living.

"Maybe you could go see your sisters," Lehakwe suggested gently in the background. "You don't have to be alone all the time, Naleli. You have a family. I'm a part of your family" 

"Yes, we both are", Said Sibusiso "And it could be more exciting to meet more of them"

I felt a discomfort of fear at the thought, my heart racing as I imagined myself in their presence. My sisters were like stars; radiant, and the most powerful, each one having a grace and confidence that I could only dream of. I was the odd one out, the quiet child without a gift, the forgotten daughter. What could I possibly offer them?

"They wouldn't like me," I mumbled, almost to myself. "I don't belong with them. They have powers, and abilities beyond anything I can imagine. And me..." I was unable to finish the sentence.

Sibusiso completed my sentence "And you are just like them; just as beautiful, just as special" 

Sibusiso placed a hand on my shoulder, his grip firm and reassuring. "You're stronger than you think, Naleli. They could learn that from you, just as much as you could learn from them."

I nodded slowly, though doubt still clung to me in the dark. The idea of stepping into their world, of letting them see the weak parts of me, was terrifying. I had spent my life hiding, shrouding myself in silence and solitude. The thought of breaking that shell, exposing my insecurities from within, sent a wave of anxiety crashing over me.

"Perhaps we could start small and bring in one of your sisters. One that is easily approachable" 

But I wanted to try. I wanted to believe that I could be more than the sum of my fears, that I could step into the light and find a place among them. The thought both thrilled and terrified me, my heart pounding as I imagined the possibilities.

"What about...  Kekeletso, what is she like?"

"Oh, she's a lovely girl" Lehakwe said "the sweetest person to talk to. She loves listening to people and she is an excellent problem solver" 

Princess Kekeletso; My third youngest sister. She is known for becoming the fifth heir to the Chieftess of Qalong, and her gift of communication with animals is truly extraordinary. Kekeletso's love for animals knows no bounds, and she even has a pet that can shape-shift, showcasing her deep connection with the mystical and magical.

Other than her deep relationship with the animals of Qalong, Princess Kekeletso is a people person in every respect. Her natural ability is to connect with her people and her outstanding problem-solving skills make her a massive help to the family and the people. I hear a lot about Kekeletso from the housekeepers who come in during my training. She was known for her kind and gentle nature that earned her the reputation of being a noble and pure of heart Princess in all the land.

As Princess Kekeletso walks the path towards her destiny as the Chieftess of Qalong, her ability to bridge the gap between animals and humans, connected with her compassionate spirit and wisdom, sets her apart as a glimmer of hope, harmony and understanding. I am grateful to have such a caring and empathetic sister by my side, leading us with her love and guidance, that is if I get the chance of meeting her. 

As I looked around this room, I thought that maybe... there would be a new resolve begin a new form within me. I would make an effort, however small, to reach out, to bridge the gap that had kept me isolated for so long. But even as I made that silent vow, a familiar dread crept into my heart, reminding me of the secret I had kept hidden from everyone, the truth that I forbade myself from revealing it. 

Because beneath the heavy yet zealous armour, there was a part of me that I could never let them see a part that was fragile, scared, a part that still creates the scars of my mother's disapproval. I had been shaped by her expectations, to make a version of myself that felt like a stranger, and the thought of letting anyone see beyond that facade was almost too much to bear.

I would try to come out of my shell, to let the room fall and collapse, brick by brick. But my heart would be pounded with social anxiety if that ever happened, it would be a constant reminder that some parts of me might always remain hidden, locked away where no one could find them.

"Alright," I said " I will try. Ntlole ho mo kopana."  (Let me meet her)

Chapter ends.