Chapter 5: Unveiling The Past
1347 Words
Zara’s head pounded as she stirred awake. The soft glow of her bedside lamp illuminated the familiar walls of her bedroom.
I’m home?
Her body ached, though she couldn’t remember why. The last thing she recalled was the party—Richard, the music, the lights. Then… something had changed. A surge of energy. A feeling of being overwhelmed.
And then… nothing.
As she sat up, she heard voices outside her door.
“She’s not ready,” her father’s voice, low and firm.
“Suka, she has awakened. Whether she’s ready or not, it has already begun,” her mother responded gently.
Zara frowned, swinging her legs over the bed. She stood, making her way toward the door, but before she could open it, the voices stopped.
A moment later, the door swung open.
Her father, Suka, stood there, his expression unreadable. Behind him, her mother, Susan, watched with concern.
“You’re awake,” Suka said, his voice carefully controlled.
Zara folded her arms. “Yeah. And I’d like to know why I passed out at my own birthday party.”
Suka exhaled. “Sit down.”
Zara hesitated, but something in her father’s eyes made her obey. She sat on the edge of her bed as he pulled up a chair across from her.
Susan sat beside Zara, taking her hand.
Then, Suka began.
The History of the Kunakuna Warrior
“Our people, the Matmba, once thrived in a powerful and hidden kingdom,” Suka said. “We lived in harmony with the land, with nature, and most importantly, with the Sunha—a sacred energy that connected us to the wild. For generations, it gave us strength, wisdom, and protection.”
Zara listened intently, trying to process everything.
“But we were never without enemies,” Suka continued. “Over a hundred years ago, a warlord named Mutukunza sought to conquer our land. He was ruthless, a destroyer who wanted the power of the Sunha for himself.”
Zara shivered at the way her father said the name.
“Our ancestors knew they needed more than warriors to defeat him. They needed a champion. And so, the first Kunakuna Warrior was born—a warrior chosen by the spirits, gifted with the ability to control all wild animals, to see through their eyes, to take their strength and merge it with her own.”
Zara’s breath hitched.
“She led our people into battle, and with the power of the wild at her command, she destroyed Mutukunza.”
Suka’s eyes darkened. “But the war left scars on our land. Though our kingdom survived, our enemies remained, waiting for the day when we would be weak enough for Mutukunza’s spirit to return.”
Zara frowned. “But he was defeated. How could he come back?”
Suka hesitated. “Some powers never truly die. His followers have spent decades searching for ways to bring him back. And because of what happened seventy years ago… we may not be able to stop them.”
Zara tensed. “What happened seventy years ago?”
Suka’s hands tightened into fists.
“That’s when the thief came.”
[The Thief Who Weakened a Kingdom]
“An outsider arrived in our land,” Suka said bitterly. “A foreigner who fell in love with one of our princesses. He was charming, clever—no one suspected he had other motives.”
Zara’s stomach twisted.
“What did he do?”
Suka’s voice was low. “He betrayed her. Betrayed us. He stole the Sunha, took it back to his homeland, and used it to build an empire. But he didn’t understand its power. He corrupted it, turned it into something unnatural.”
Zara swallowed hard. “And that made your people weaker.”
Suka nodded. “Without the full strength of the Sunha, our land became vulnerable. And our enemies took advantage of it.”
Zara’s mind raced. This wasn’t just about ancient history. This was connected to her.
She forced herself to breathe. “What does this have to do with me?”
Suka met her gaze.
“You were born with the mark of the Kunakuna Warrior. The star that signifies the chosen one. The spirits have chosen you, Zara.”
The weight of his words settled over her like a crushing wave.
“No,” she whispered. “I don’t want this. I never asked for it.”t
Suka’s expression hardened. “Neither did I.”
Zara’s heart pounded.
“I trained you all these years, thinking—hoping—that maybe the prophecy would never come true,” Suka admitted. “That maybe, by keeping you hidden, we could avoid this fate.”
Zara shook her head. “Dad, I don’t want to fight anyone.”
Suka sighed. “It’s not about what you want, Zara. It’s about what must be done.”
[The Williams Family’s Secrets]
Far away, in the lavish Williams mansion, Daniel Williams sat in his study, staring at a glass of whiskey.
Across from him, his old friend Christopher Hale leaned back in his chair.
“You look troubled, old friend,” Christopher mused.
Daniel exhaled. “It’s been seven years, Christopher.”
Christopher studied him. “You still think your son is alive?”
Daniel’s eyes darkened. “He went searching for the truth. My truth. I refuse to believe he’s dead.”
Christopher swirled his drink. “And if he does return? What then?”
Daniel’s fingers tightened around his glass. “Then he’ll understand what I did. Why I did it.”
Christopher smirked. “Because you stole from a kingdom no one believes exists?”
Daniel chuckled dryly. “People remember what I built, not how I built it.”
His gaze drifted to the large portrait above the fireplace—a painting of himself as a young man, standing in front of the first headquarters of Williams Industries.
His empire.
No one knew the truth.
And he intended to keep it that way.
In his laboratory, Richard Williams studied an image of Zara on his screen.
Clara, his assistant, stood beside him.
“She has no suspicious records. Just a normal student,” Clara said.
Richard zoomed in on the image from her party. “Look at her eyes.”
Clara frowned. “What about them?”
“They changed,” Richard murmured.
Clara sighed. “That could be anything—lighting, exhaustion—”
Richard wasn’t convinced.
“Find out everything about her.”
Clara hesitated. “This is risky. If we dig too deep, people will notice.”
Richard’s gaze darkened. “Then do it carefully.”
Back in the Matmba home, Zara sat in silence, her mind racing.
Then—
A knock at the door.
It opened before anyone could react.
Standing there was Muchakasa.
Zara’s grandmother.
Her presence filled the room with something ancient and powerful. She wore dark robes embroidered with golden symbols, her gaze sharp as she studied Zara.
“It is time,” Muchakasa said.
Zara blinked. “Time for what?”
“To return home. To learn what you are. To become the warrior our people need.”
Zara shook her head. “No. I—” She turned to her father. “Dad, tell her. Tell her I don’t have to go.”
But Suka remained silent.
Zara’s heart pounded. “Dad?”
Suka’s expression was unreadable. But when he finally spoke, his voice was firm.
“No.”
Muchakasa frowned. “You would refuse her destiny?”
Suka stepped forward. “I would refuse to throw my daughter into a war she didn’t ask for.”
Muchakasa turned to Zara. “The power within you has awakened. And the enemy will come for you.”
Zara’s breath hitched.
“I will not let that happen,” Suka said coldly.
Muchakasa sighed. “One day, she must choose.”
And with that, she was gone.
Zara turned to her father. “Dad…”
But Suka just walked away, leaving Zara with too many questions and not enough answers.
- Writer
