"I see. And are you nursing her alone?"
"Her father died in the Nomlanga war."
That made the Prime sigh.
"It's a shame what that territory tried to do to us. Stealing what we made fairly, when they could've joined. But that's a conflict for my children to win, not us."
She stopped, looking away, savouring some… unknown. Aphiwe looked. Locking eyes with the Prime who probed, her heart raced. Finally, the Prime's gaze shifted to Aphiwe's mother.
"I must ask... If that's okay… about your work." The Prime asked, hesitant.
The Prime snapped her fingers and the smallest of the trio and the only Chui stepped ahead passing her a book tied with metal bars. It was unlocked and opened. There was no key, only the shifting of metal parts.
"There's a great deal of information on you as a Grounds Keeper. You're one of the two youngest to ever be considered for a promotion to Master Grounds Keeper. And judging by the overview we're given. Age is also the reason you weren't."
The Prime thought a moment.
"Which is, of course, a shame. Also I am in love with your home though…" she sat up, looking around, "Judging from what I'm seeing, most of it is… if I'm correct… missing."
Aphiwe cringed, suddenly siting up, her every muscle pulled. The Prime hadn't moved but behind her the larger guard loomed, javelin tight in hand. Aphiwe's gaze bounced from glare to glare, the muscles in her neck aching but wouldn't ignore the tension.
"Not that it matters, it's just an observation. I'm good at that kind of thing, I must be if I'm to make quality selections. And…"
She got up, pulling out a random scroll from a stand, and sitting back down.
"You… are quality." The Prime purred…
She opened it to a show a detailed sketch of a Jokai skeleton. The detail was immense, there were names and symbols for every bone. Aphiwe pressed into her mother, only to freeze, her motherly warmth wasn't there. Aphiwe was being held up by steel beams.
"You've been thinking of fighting Nature. Our culture doesn't exactly approve." The Prime said.
"Our way of life speaks of being partners with Nature. That means resilient, not just defensive." Thato said.
"There's always a trade-off."
"True and death hanging over my daughter's head is no trade at all."
"And how, may I ask, did you manage?"
"Jokai venom. I've fed it to my child since birth. The smallest amounts within bounds of reason, of course. I'd read of journals where a disease could be fought by the young. But I also believed poisons could propagate constantly as with some rare diseases, where only a fraction of a fraction is needed to enter one's blood to kill. A poison isn't like a plant. It will contaminate but won't grow or change. Only the victim can change. Knowing this I took a risk, no. I decided to have faith and succeeded. Though,"
Aphiwe's mother softened to the point of being feathery and kissed Aphiwe's temple.
"It likely wasn't a strong enough dose or wasn't frequent enough. But it was my choice, and there were only so many chances I was willing to take with my only daughter."
"Is it safe to assume you have, records?" Asked the Prime.
Her mother remained silent, simply looking at the Prime to whom they were insignificant. A spec of dust. Her mother standing out, bright enough to blind a queen.
The Prime continued. "I heard something interesting about a cave inside a tree. Apparently there were piles of silver, gold and many scrolls. Now the silver and gold were received, the appropriate reward given to the Grounds Keepers and the Ndlovu Sana House as compensation but no mention of a single note, no king's message that might have been lost... but…" She trailed, just… reading. One would have thought she were staring at the sky for the first time. "Yes, these are some of the most meticulous notes I've ever seen …."
"And once I retire, my child's will be more so." Thato said.
"Well, I can't help but feel that what I'm going to ask next is clear."
"Whether you can have them? For the sake of the God Tree?"
The Prime tilted her head to the side, smirking.
"That needed to be asked?"
Aphiwe could physically feel her mother retreating. Thato took a breath, her muscles softening.
"True. I apologise for being presumptuous."
"It's perfectly fine. My question is this. Are you trying to build your own house?"
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Tea, scones, and whispered suspicions—what should have been a quiet night becomes a test of loyalty.
"Are you trying to build your own house?"
The Prime's questions cut deeper than any Jokai's claws, forcing Thato to defend her choices, her daughter, and her future. But when the Matriarch's head of security removes her helmet, revealing scars and a voice that speaks inside Aphiwe's mind, the family realizes survival has drawn the attention of powers far greater than venom or bone.
This is no longer about one child's recovery. It's about trust, legacy, and the dangerous possibility of a new house rising in the shadows of the God Tree.
📖 Witness the moment suspicion turns to revelation, and Aphiwe's family learns that every secret has a listener.