MUKUNDA Chapter 3– The Dawn That Opened the Door to the Spirit and Showed Me Who I Was Meant to Be

The dawn came with a silence so deep that I could hear my own heartbeat echoing in my chest, could feel the blood moving through my veins in a way that I had never felt before, could sense that the land itself was holding its breath, waiting for something, watching for something, preparing for something that I was only beginning to understand. The wind was still, as if the whole land was waiting for a great thing, as if the mountains and the rivers and the trees that had been growing in this place since before the first people came were all leaning forward, listening, waiting for the moment when the thing that had been promised would finally happen. Inside the palace, I had woken before the morning had fully come, before the light had begun to touch the walls of my room, before my mother had come to wake me the way she always did when there was something important that needed to be done. I was preparing for my first training in war, the training that my father had promised me in the court, the training that would put me beside the sons of the other wives, the training that would show them whether I was strong enough, whether I was brave enough, whether the daughter who had been born when the kingdom was waiting for a son could carry the weight that had been passed down through generations of men who had stood in this place, who had held the staff, who had protected the land that had been given to them by the ancestors.

My mother was standing at the doorway of my room, looking at me with a smile that held both love and the kind of strength that comes from carrying something for a very long time, the kind of strength that she had been carrying since the day she gave birth to a daughter instead of the son that the kingdom was waiting for, the kind of strength that she had passed to me without knowing it, without speaking it, without doing anything except being the woman she was, the mother she was, the one who had taught me that being a daughter did not mean being less. She looked at me with eyes that had seen the things that I was only beginning to see, that had carried the weight that I was only beginning to carry, that had waited for this moment, for this dawn, for this day when the daughter who had been born to her would step into the place that the ancestors had been preparing for her since before she was born.

"Mukunda, my heart knows that you are entering a new world today, a world that has not been open to the daughters of this house, a world that has been kept for the sons, a world that will test you in ways that you have not been tested before. But I trust the spirit of the ancestors, the ones who have been watching over you since the day you were born, the ones who have been preparing you for this moment, the ones who have been waiting to see what you will become. They will walk with you, they will carry you when you are tired, they will give you the words when you do not know what to say, they will be the strength that you do not have when the weight is too heavy and you are not sure you can stand," she said, and I heard in her voice the things that she had been carrying for so long, the things that she had never spoken aloud, the things that she had been waiting for me to be old enough to understand.

I took her hands in mine, gently, the way she had taken my hands when I was small and the world was too big and I needed something to hold onto. I felt the warmth of her heart pass into me, the warmth that had been there since the day I was born, the warmth that had carried her through the years of waiting, the years of watching, the years of being the one who was not chosen, the one who was not the queen, the one who had given the kingdom a daughter when it was waiting for a son. I told her that I was not afraid, that I trusted that the spirit of the ancestors would be the light that would guide me, that the same spirit that had guided her through the years of carrying what she had been given would guide me through the days that were coming, the training that was waiting, the path that was opening before me.

She dressed me in the cloth of our clan, the cloth that had the mark of our house, the bird that had been woven with the stones of the kingdom, the bird that had been watching over our family since the first ancestor stood on this land and claimed it for the people who would come after. The cloth had been passed down from mother to daughter since before the stories that we tell were stories that anyone remembered, since before the kingdom was called by the name that we know it by, since before the first king sat on the throne that my father sits on today. She told me that this cloth would protect me, that it would warn me when danger was close, that it would remind me who I was and where I came from and what I was carrying, that it would be the thing that held me together when the world was trying to pull me apart.

At the Pool of the Queen, the place where the training of war had been held since the first warriors were trained in this land, the students were already gathered around the space, the sons of the counselors and the sons of the chiefs and the sons of the men who had been warriors before them, waiting for the training to begin, waiting to see who would be the strongest, who would be the fastest, who would be the one that the ancestors had chosen to carry the staff when the king was gone. In the middle of them was Taru, my friend, the one who had been with me by the river, the one who had seen me the way I wanted to be seen, the one who was carrying two spears, one that was long and one that was short, the way that the warriors of the north carry their spears, the way that her father had carried his spears before he was taken, the way that her grandfather had carried his spears before the land was called by the name that we know it by. She looked at me and smiled, the smile that I had known since we were children, the smile that had carried her through the things that had tried to break her, the smile that told me that even in this place, even among the sons of the counselors and the chiefs, there was someone who saw me, who knew me, who would stand beside me when the training got hard and the weight got heavy and the world was trying to tell me that I did not belong.

"So the Queen of the Future has arrived," she said, and I heard in her voice the thing that I had been hearing in my mother's voice, the thing that said that she had been waiting for this moment, that she knew that something was beginning, that she believed that I was the one who would carry something that had been waiting to be carried for a very long time.

I laughed softly, the laugh that I had learned to use when the world was trying to make me too serious, when the weight of what I was carrying was pressing down on me and I needed to remember that I was still young, still the girl who had run to the river to escape the walls of the palace, still the one who had sat with Taru and let the wind carry away the things that were too heavy to hold. I told her not to give me honor that I had not earned, not to call me by names that I had not yet proven I deserved, not to make me into something that I was not sure I could be.

"I am not lying, Mukunda. Today your story begins, the story that will be told to the children and the children's children, the story of the daughter who stood where only sons had stood before, the story of the one who carried the weight that no one thought she could carry, the story of the woman who showed them that the blood of the kingdom does not know the difference between a son and a daughter. If you endure, if you stand when they try to make you fall, if you hold when they try to make you let go, you will know that the blood of the kingdom never rests, never fades, never becomes less than it was when it was given to the first king who sat on this throne," she said, and I saw in her eyes that she believed what she was saying, that she had been waiting for this day, that she knew that something was beginning that would change everything, that she had been watching me since we were children and had seen something that I had not yet seen in myself.

When the training began, the leader of the students, Brother Tagamuchira, a warrior whose name was known in every corner of the kingdom, a man whose spear had been held in battles that the stories still told, a man whose body carried the marks of every fight he had ever fought, stood strong, holding his short spear in the way that the warriors of this land have held their spears since the first warrior stood on this land and promised to protect it with his life. He stood in front of us, and his voice was not loud but it carried, it carried the way that the voice of a man who has been in battles carries, the way that the voice of a man who has seen things that most people have not seen carries, the way that the voice of a man who knows what it costs to protect the things that matter carries.

"Today, we teach the heart before we teach the body, because the heart is the thing that will carry you when the body is tired, the thing that will hold you when the weight is too heavy, the thing that will keep you standing when the enemy is coming and there is nowhere to run. You must learn to feel the earth beneath your feet, to feel the wind on your face, to feel the breath of the enemy before they are close enough to see. The one who knows the spirit of the land, the one who listens to what the land is saying, the one who moves when the land moves and waits when the land waits, that one is the true warrior, that one is the one who will be standing when the battle is over, that one is the one who will carry the weight that has been passed down from generation to generation."

His words went into my heart, into the place where the things that I had been carrying were stored, into the place where my mother's strength was waiting, into the place where the voice that had called my name in the place of the great trees was still echoing. I closed my eyes, the way he had told us to close them, and I listened to the sounds that were around me, the sound of the leaves moving in the trees, the sound of the birds that were calling from far away, the sound of the wind that was breathing close to me, the sound of the earth beneath my feet, the earth that had been here since before I was born, since before my mother was born, since before the stories that we tell were stories that anyone remembered. And in that moment, when I was listening, when I was still, when I was letting myself become part of the land the way he had told us to become part of it, I heard something that was not the leaves, not the birds, not the wind, not the earth. It was a voice, a voice that was deep, a voice that was soft, a voice that carried a weight that I had never felt before, a voice that knew my name, that knew my mother's name, that knew the name of the ancestor who had first stood on this land and claimed it for the people who would come after.

"Runako, you have your true name. You are called Mukunda, the child who was freed by the Spirit, the one who was born when the kingdom was waiting for something else, the one who has been carrying something that the kingdom did not know it needed, the one who will be the one to carry the weight when the ones who are carrying it now lay it down."

I was startled, my eyes opening, my breath catching in my throat, my heart beating so hard that I could feel it in my ears, in my hands, in the place where the voice had touched me and left something that I did not yet understand. Taru was looking at me, her face full of the same surprise that I was feeling, her eyes asking me what had happened, what I had heard, what the voice had said to me that had made me open my eyes with the look that she was seeing on my face.

"What happened to you?" she asked, and her voice was soft, was gentle, was the voice of the friend who had been with me since we were children, the friend who had seen me when I was small and the world was too big, the friend who had been there when I needed someone to talk to, someone to listen, someone to remind me that I was not alone.

I shook my head, not because I did not want to tell her but because I was not sure what had happened, was not sure what I had heard, was not sure what the voice that had spoken to me in the place where the training was happening, in the place where the warriors had been trained for generations, in the place where the ancestors had been watching since the first warrior stood on this land, meant. I told her that I had heard something, that I had felt like someone was calling me, that the voice that had spoken had known my name, had known the name that my mother had given me, had known the thing that I was becoming, the thing that I had not yet become but that I was being called to be.

"The wind often speaks to those with a pure heart, to those who are listening, to those who are still enough to hear the things that most people cannot hear. Do not trouble yourself, do not let the voice that you heard become something that frightens you, that makes you doubt what you are doing, that makes you think that you are not ready for the things that are coming. The ancestors speak to the ones they have chosen, the ones they have been watching, the ones they have been preparing since before they were born. If you heard a voice in the place where the training is held, in the place where the warriors have been trained for generations, in the place where the spirit of the land is strongest, then you are the one they have been waiting for, the one they have been speaking to, the one who will carry what they have been holding," she said, and I saw in her eyes that she believed what she was saying, that she had heard things too, that she knew what it meant when the ancestors spoke, that she was not surprised that the voice had come to me.

But I knew that it was not just the wind, that it was not just the ordinary things that people hear when they are still enough to listen, that it was the Spirit itself, the Spirit that had been watching over this land since before the first people came, the Spirit that had been waiting for someone to hear, the Spirit that had been preparing me for something that I was only beginning to understand. The voice had called me by the name that my mother had given me, the name that meant that I was the one who had been freed, the one who had been chosen, the one who would carry the weight that had been passed down from generation to generation, the one who would be the daughter who stood where only sons had stood before.

That evening, as I was walking back to my home, to the place where my mother was waiting, to the place where the walls that had felt too close for so long were now beginning to feel like something else, like a place where I was being held, like a place where I was being prepared, like a place where the thing that was coming was being shaped by hands that I could not see but that I was beginning to feel, I saw my father coming out of his room, walking with the counselors who had been with him since before I was born, the men who had been advising him, the men who had been watching the borders, the men who had been carrying the weight of the kingdom on their shoulders beside him since the day he was given the staff and told to protect the land that had been passed down from his father. He looked at me with eyes that were strong, eyes that had seen the things that I was only beginning to see, eyes that had carried the weight that I was only beginning to carry, eyes that had been watching me since the day I was born, waiting for something, hoping for something, not sure what it was that he was waiting for, what he was hoping for, what he would see when the time came for the thing that had been promised to be revealed.

"I have heard that you did well in your first training, that you stood with the sons of the counselors and the chiefs, that you did not fall, that you did not run, that you did not let them make you feel like you did not belong in the place where you were standing," he said, his voice deep, the voice of a man who had been carrying the weight of a kingdom for as long as I had been alive, the voice of a man who had learned that the strength that is needed to lead is not the strength that comes from the arm but the strength that comes from the heart, the strength that comes from knowing that the decisions you make will shape the lives of the people who trust you, the strength that comes from the ancestors who watch you and the spirits who guide you and the land that holds you.

I lowered my head, the way that a daughter lowers her head when her father is speaking, the way that shows respect for the one who sits on the throne, the one who carries the weight, the one who has been protecting the land since before I was old enough to understand what it meant to protect something. I told him that I knew, that I knew that the blood of our house was heavy, that the life of the kingdom had no place for softness, that the weight that had been passed down from generation to generation was not a weight that could be carried by someone who was not ready to give everything, who was not ready to be everything, who was not ready to become something that they did not yet know they could be.

"It is good. But I want you to know that tonight there is a great meeting, a gathering that has been called by the women of the court, the wives of the counselors, the mothers of the sons who stand beside you in the training, the women who have been watching and waiting and hoping that the one who carries the staff when I am gone will be one of their sons, one of the ones who was born when the kingdom was waiting for a son, one of the ones who was given the name that means that they will carry what has been passed down. They want to seek the protection of the spirit, to perform the dance that tries to find the signs that show who is worthy to be the protector of the kingdom, who has been chosen, who has been waiting, who will be the one to stand when the weight is passed to the next hands."

I could not hide my surprise, could not hide the thing that was rising in my chest, the thing that was telling me that this was what the voice had been calling me to, this was what the training had been preparing me for, this was what the ancestors had been waiting for since the day I was born. I asked him why now, why tonight, why when the training had just begun, when the sons of the counselors were just starting to show what they could do, when the daughters of the house had never been asked to stand in the place where the spirit was called.

"The time is enough, the time that has been given to us, the time that the ancestors have been watching, the time that the spirit has been waiting for. The age of the Spirit must come out before the court, must be shown to the people who have been waiting, must be revealed to the ones who have been watching, must be given to the one who has been chosen, the one who has been prepared, the one who has been carrying something that she did not know she was carrying since the day she was born."

That night came with a silence that was terrifying, the kind of silence that falls over a place when something is about to happen, when the things that have been hidden are about to be revealed, when the spirits that have been watching are about to speak. In the middle of the palace, a great fire was lit, the kind of fire that had been lit in the times when the ancestors called the spirits, the kind of fire that had been burning in this place since the first king sat on the throne, the kind of fire that had seen the things that the people of this land had done, the things that they had carried, the things that they had passed down to the ones who came after. The people knelt around the fire, the counselors and the wives and the children and the workers who had come from the fields to see what would happen, to see who would be chosen, to see who would carry the weight when the king was gone. The wives of the kingdom stood beside the fire, holding the candles that had been lit from the flame that had been burning since the first fire was lit in this place, the candles that carried the light of the ancestors, the candles that had been waiting for this moment, for this night, for the time when the spirit would speak and the one who had been chosen would be revealed.

I was there too, covered with the cloth of the kingdom, the cloth that had been passed down from mother to daughter since the first mother stood in this place and held her daughter in her arms and knew that she was carrying something that would be carried for generations. The leader of the people, the elder Vengai, the man who had been chosen to speak to the spirits, the man who had been carrying the weight of the old ways since before I was born, the man who had seen the things that the spirits had shown him and had kept them in his heart until the time was right to speak, stood up and looked at the sky, the sky that had been watching this land since before the first people came, the sky that had seen the things that the people had done, the things that they had carried, the things that they had passed down to the ones who came after.

"Spirits of the ancestors, we ask you to guide the children of this house, the ones who have been born into the weight that you carried, the ones who have been waiting for the sign that you have promised, the ones who have been preparing themselves for the moment when you would speak and the one who has been chosen would be revealed. Let it be clear who carries the name of the Spirit, who has been waiting, who has been watching, who has been carrying the thing that you have given them since the day they were born."

In that moment, the wind rose, the kind of wind that had not been felt in this place for years, the kind of wind that carried the voices of the ancestors, the kind of wind that told the people that something was happening, that something was being revealed, that something that had been hidden for a long time was finally coming into the light. The fire rose into the sky, the flames reaching up like they were trying to touch the stars, like they were trying to reach the place where the spirits were watching, like they were trying to show the people what the spirits had been waiting to show them. The people began to be afraid, some of them covering their eyes, some of them falling to the ground, some of them calling out the names of the ancestors, asking them to protect them, to show them what they needed to see, to give them the sign that they had been waiting for.

But the fire began to speak with colors, with colors that I had never seen, with colors that were not the colors of the ordinary world, with colors that were coming from somewhere else, from the place where the spirits were, from the place where the ancestors were watching, from the place where the thing that had been promised was being revealed. The fire burned red, the color of the blood that had been shed to protect this land, the color of the warriors who had stood in this place and fought when the enemies came, the color of the promise that had been made by the first king who sat on this throne. It burned blue, the color of the sky that had been watching this land since before the first people came, the color of the water that had been flowing through the rivers since the land was formed, the color of the spirit that had been moving through this place since the first ancestor walked on this earth. And then, at the end, it burned with the light of gold, the light that had been waiting, the light that had been promised, the light that showed the people who had been watching that the one who had been chosen was here, was among them, was standing in the place where the fire was burning, was the one who would carry the weight when the king was gone.

The fire pointed to me, the light of gold moving from the flames and settling on my face, on my hands, on the cloth that my mother had put on me that morning, the cloth that had been passed down from mother to daughter since the first mother stood in this place and held her daughter in her arms and knew that she was carrying something that would be carried for generations. All the people stood and were silent, the kind of silence that falls over a gathering when something that has been waiting for a long time finally happens, when the thing that has been hidden is finally revealed, when the one who has been chosen is finally shown to the ones who have been watching.

The elder Vengai spoke softly, the way that the leader of the people speaks when the spirits have spoken, the way that the one who has been carrying the old ways speaks when the thing that has been promised is finally happening, the way that the one who has been watching and waiting speaks when the time has come for the truth to be known. He said that the Spirit had shown itself, that Mukunda was the one who carried the name of the Spirit, that she was the one who was bound to protect the blood of the kingdom, that she was the one who had been chosen, the one who had been prepared, the one who had been carrying something that she did not know she was carrying since the day she was born.

My father stood, not smiling, his face holding the weight that he had been carrying for so long, the weight that he was going to pass to someone else, the weight that he had been holding since the day he was given the staff and told to protect the land that had been passed down from his father. But his eyes, the eyes that had been watching me since the day I was born, the eyes that had been waiting for something, hoping for something, not sure what it was that he was waiting for, what he was hoping for, were full of a strength that I had not seen before, a strength that had been there all along, a strength that had been waiting for this moment, for this night, for the time when the thing that had been promised would be revealed.

My mother cried softly, falling to her knees in the dust of the court, the dust that had been walked on by generations of feet, the dust that had seen the things that the people of this land had done, the things that they had carried, the things that they had passed down to the ones who came after. She thanked the spirits, the ones who had been watching her, the ones who had seen her carry the weight of not being the queen, the ones who had been waiting for this moment, for this night, for the time when the daughter who had been born to her would stand in the place that the sons had been waiting for, would be the one who was chosen, would be the one who would carry the weight that had been passed down from generation to generation.

I stood there, in the silence, in the place where the fire had spoken, in the place where the spirits had revealed the thing that had been hidden, and I felt something growing inside me, something that had been there since the day I was born, something that had been waiting for this moment, for this night, for the time when the voice that had called me by the name that my mother had given me would be heard by everyone, would be seen by everyone, would be the thing that the people who had been watching and waiting would know was the truth. I was Mukunda, the child who had been freed by the Spirit, the daughter who had been chosen, the one who would carry the weight when the king was gone, the one who would protect the land that had been passed down from generation to generation, the one who would be the daughter who stood where only sons had stood before.