VoK Prompts

I(s) 3: What is this individual's relationship with their childhood? Do they look upon it fondly or resent it? Do they remember it at all? How did the way they were raised contribute to who they are now? Were there any bad habits that they have now that formed directly as a consequence to their childhood?
Word Count: 3250/3250
Earning: 1 silver feather

I(b) 7: Elaborate about a time this character learned a harsh lesson, or suffered an extreme turning point in their life.
Word Count: 700/700
Earning: 1 bronze feather

+ 1663 words (B01)

Some people are born into squalor and come out shining like a diamond in the rough. Others in the same conditions might grow cold, cruel, and selfish, turning down a dark path to crime and pain. Some people are born into a modest home and work hard every day to achieve greatness and they never forget the toil. Then there are those who are given the entire world on a silver platter. Their path is the least predictable. Some live in fortune their entire life, never for a second looking out and down at the rest of the world. Others veer off towards a path of entitled bad decisions, landing themselves in trouble countless times and relying on their inheritance to pull them out. Finally, there are those that choose a more noble path. They look at what they have and wonder what they can do with it. They see their power and wonder who they can help. They look out at the hurting world and see a place full of opportunities for change and improvement. I’ll let you figure out which path Ubuciko forges.

-

Ubuciko’s first memories were of the warm sun on her face and a colorful view of butterflies and flowers. Immediately there were whispers tickling her ears, telling her that she was perfect, precious, beautiful, a work of art, a masterpiece. They told her she would never suffer, never be hurt, never have reason to cry, and she believed them because coming from them, she knew they weren’t lies. 

-

“Good morning my beautiful buttercup, it’s going to be a great day!” A sweet breeze carried Ubuciko’s mother’s voice to her ears from the base of the stairs that wound up to her treehouse palace. The cub princess smiled, stretched, and opened her eyes to the perfect world around her. Magenta light from the rising sun filtered through the leaves and her open walls to dance off the glittering rocks and gems around her. Above her in one of the branches that reached through her high walls a songbird sang a good morning tune that was echoed by several others. Flowering vines in every color of the rainbow swayed in the breeze and butterflies fluttered all around her. The scrumptious smell of breakfast wafted from below where her mother ascended the steps, and Ubuciko wiggled with excitement.

“I have a big day planned for us! I overheard the servant girl say her family’s field was blooming, and she said she would be honored to let us pick some, or, I guess she said she can’t wait for them to be destroyed, but that was before I threatened to fire her! After that, I’ll going to take you into the town where the tailor has arranged to make you a new outfit for tomorrow’s tea party with your friends! Then we will go down to The Oasis for lunch, go shopping during the afternoon…” With each addition, Ubuciko got even more and more excited. Her mother always had the perfect day planned! What more could she ask for? “And you will love what I have for us to do this evening! I found your grandfather’s telescope that he had stored away as a gift for your cousin when he is of age, but I knew how much you would love it, so I thought we could gaze at the stars tonight!” 

As always, her mother finished explaining right in time as she reached Ubuciko’s room, entering with a huge smile and arms spread for a hug. And, as always, Ubuciko ran to her, yelling, “You are the best mom ever!”

-

Of course, while everything was literally butterflies and rainbows on the outside, it wasn’t long before Ubuciko grew out of her love for the extravagant. It was gradual and started as a random lack of appreciation and joy for the things she used to cherish. She was growing out of her child - like wonder, but her mother didn’t relent, instead pushing harder.

-

The mother - daughter pair made their way towards the silversmith’s, the elder with her head held high, marching her way through the crowd (even though it parted around her) and the younger dawdled behind, unbeknownst to her mother, the distance between them slowly increasing. The had just finished a long prance through a meadow, and frankly, Ubuciko was tired. Regardless, the queen babbled on and on about all the things they were supposed to do before the ball that evening, but Ubuciko had learned to tune out her long - winded rants long ago. The longer they walked the more Ubuciko wondered how long it would take her mother to notice. As it turned out, it was quite long, and Ubuciko found herself a full two body - lengths behind her mother. The crowd filled back in, less intimidated by and submissive to the princess, if they noticed her at all, and Ubuciko found that she really didn’t know the town as well as she thought she did.

She abruptly stopped in her tracks, immediately being bumped and jostled by the peasants that streamed by. Shocked would hardly describe how she felt, as she was used to the town lions’ reverence, not this carelessness. Did they not recognize her without her mother’s imposing presence? Frustrated, Ubuciko huffed and stomped ahead too find her mother, pushing aside anyone in her way. She barged ahead, unperturbed as her mother would be to the town lions’ shocked and angry remarks, including an oddly kind “hey, wait a second!” from behind her. That is, until a paw on her (perfect) tail brought her to a sudden halt. Ubuciko whirled around.

“I said to stop: you dropped this,” the cub behind her was holding something out to her, but Ubuciko didn’t notice. Her jaw was hanging open, astounded by the fact that this disgustingly dirty peasant girl had laid a paw on her perfectly groomed tail and  had the audacity to make her stop. Did she really not know who Ubuciko was!?

The peasant cub must have been equally confused by Ubuciko’s reaction because she pulled out of the bumbling crowd and into an alley. “Hey, are you good? I just wanted to give you this back; it looks expensive and I’m sure your folks would have been mad-” she glanced at Ubuciko’s still shocked expression “or your leader; if that’s your way I won’t judge-”

Ubuciko snapped out of her entitled trance. “What? You think I’m a thief!?” 

“Hey, look at me, I have no room to judge! In fact, I could probably use to pick a few nobles if I was any good-” the cub rattled on.

Ubuciko finally glanced down at what the girl was offering her: her brand new diamond - encrusted white - gold bracelet that  her mother had ordered custom - made for tonight’s gala. Ubuciko snatched it back in an instant, interrupting, “Where did you get this? Thief!”

“Um, no, I don’t think you’re listening; I said I couldn’t be a pick - pocket because I’m no good, while you on the other hand-” Ubuciko cut off her train of thought with a withering glare. “Ok, so no thieving for you, but I did say that you dropped it, and I guess it really is none of my business where you got it from, I just thought we were having a potential bonding moment-”

“Will you just be quiet! Do you really have no idea who I am!?” Now it was the peasant girl’s turn to look confused. Ubuciko huffed and dramatically gestured to herself, but the cub’s face showed no recognition, only dumbfounded-ness.

“Does ‘Princess Umsebenzi Wobuciko’ ring any bells?” Ubuciko said, her voice full of irritation.

“Of course! Duh! So sorry!” The cub smacked her forehead and Ubuciko crossed her arms smuggly, finally getting the recognition and respect she deserved. “Are you, like, her majesty’s maid or something? A servant girl in the palace?”

“Hello? I. Am. Her. I am the princess.” If Ubuciko was not too disgusted to touch the girl, she would have shaken her senseless.

“Oh, no way,” Ubuciko wanted to scream. That was all? That was all she got? No “oh, I’m so sorry, let me bow down before you, your majesty!” or “oh my gosh, how could I have been so naive to stand in the presence of royalty and act so inconsiderate!” Nope. All she got was the equivalent of a sarcastic “cool.” The disrespect! Once again, Ubuciko’s jaw fell open.

“Am I supposed to, um, bow or something,” Was this girl really serious?

“Yes, yes you were- no, stop, not now, stop- the moment passed, see, now you’re just making it weird.” The cub fumbled into a bowing position as if she had never before. On second thought, she probably hadn’t. Ubuciko rolled her eyes. “Get up.” No matter how hard she tried, Ubuciko couldn’t be mad at the girl, but she could at least make it seem like it.

“I just didn’t want to be beheaded or something, I’m just not used to being in the presence of royalty-”

“Obviously.” An awkward silence filled the alley as Ubuciko tried to maintain a scowl and the peasant girl fidgeted, for the first time not having anything to say.

Finally, Ubuciko relented. She sighed and offered her paw as if to make a truce. “Let’s start over. I’m Ubuciko-”

“I thought you said-”

Ubuciko couldn’t help but interrupt. She really had learned from the best at how to be disrespectful. “I know what I said, but just pretend I didn’t. I’m Ubuciko.” The girl only stared at Ubuciko’s outstretched paw, even after Ubuciko wiggled it for emphasis. 

Finally: “Am I supposed to kiss it?”

Ubuciko groaned and reached down with her left paw, grabbed the girl’s filthy right, and placed it into her own. “No. We’re shaking hands. How you peasants- I mean, town - lions greet each other.” Ubuciko firmly shook the girl’s paw, ignoring the dirt that flew up. “Now, you say, ‘Nice to meet you Ubuciko, I’m-”

“Ivukela,”

“Pardon?”

“Ivukela. It means rebel. I guess when I popped out my mother took one look at me and said, ‘gee, that one’s going to be a handful’ so here I am.” Ubuciko smiled at the cub’s eccentricness but refrained from laughing. “Oh, but the others call me Kela.”

Ubuciko released her paw, satisfied with the answer. “The others?”

“Oh, yeah, we call ourselves the Misfits. The town lions call us the Runaways. And you…” Kela squinted and pursed her lips. “You can call us ‘friends,’”

Ubuciko smiled through her surprise, and of course, that’s when her mother showed up to ruin the moment. At first the queen marched right by the alley, then paused, did a double take, and practically ran into the alley. Instantly she scooped up Ubuciko, turned away from Kela in all her shock (as if she still hadn’t believed Ubuciko was the princess), showering her with kisses and inspecting her as if Kela had tried to murder her. Then came the word vomit.

“What happened to you! I was worried sick! Are you hurt? Do you know how long I was looking for you! And can you believe the indespicable peasants of this place? They said- they said they hadn’t seen the beautiful, perfect princess! Can believe them?” Actually, Ubuciko could. “Let’s get out of here! Look at you! Filthy!” And so, the queen marched the poor princess out of the alley in a death grip, and Ubuciko couldn’t even look at her first friend of whom her mother had ignored like another mild inconvenience standing between her and her “perfect” daughter. But regardless, a seed had been planted. Ubuciko’s mother hadn’t noticed she was missing for who knows how long. The townspeople hadn’t shied away from her “perfect” beauty and royalty. Kela, a filthy “peasant girl,” had shown her more kindness than any of the lions her mother hired to pamper her, or anyone for that matter. She didn’t care about social expectations, dirt, or who anyone’s family was. She saw beyond the dirt or perfectly oiled fur that everyone was equal. Ubuciko’s view had been knocked askew, and she liked her new perspective.  

-

Months passed and Ubuciko found herself making more and more excuses to visit Kela. Something about the cub fascinated her, and Ubuciko felt a connection to her like nothing she had ever had with anyone else. Kela took Ubuciko to the Burrow, the hideout of the Misfits, and introduced her to the others, who almost immediately accepted Ubuciko as if she were just another town cub. Much to Ubuciko’s surprise, they were all girl - cubs of different ages and all had varying degrees of Kela’s kindness and equality mindset. Unfortunately, no one in the town seemed to agree, viewing them just as poorly as the queen would if she knew about them. Another thing they all had in common is their distaste for their home lives. Some of them had completely run away from their families, some just slept and ate with theirs. While Ubuciko picked up a few details here and there, she soon realized that there was an unspoken agreement that this group was to be an escape; a haven free of the issues of the outside world, and that was something Ubuciko could get down with. Although her time with them was sporadic and short - lived, Ubuciko began to see the changes within herself. The Misfits loved her, worshipped her almost, in a way that felt natural and not like their life depended on it. She and Kela became their honorary leaders, and Ubuciko loved it, but she felt pulled in two directions. There became two Ubucikos - the kingdom’s princess and the Misfit queen, and the boundary between the two was crumbling more every day. 

-

“I don’t want this,” It was a only whisper, and though both Ubuciko and her mother were shocked to hear it come out, Ubuciko had felt this truth building inside her for as long as she could remember.

“Excuse me? Please speak up, you know these ears don’t work like they used to,” Ubuciko knew this was her mother’s attempt to say that she didn’t approve of what Ubuciko had said without saying it straight out (why, she could never look like the bad guy!) She hadn’t even turned her eyes from her intense supervision of the tailor who was fitting a new gown on Ubuciko.

Careful, Ubuciko, she thought. Only slightly louder, she repeated, “I don’t want this,”

The tailor froze mid - pin, knowing this wouldn’t flow with the queen and anticipating what was to come. She stared wide - eyed at Ubuciko, but Ubuciko eyes were trained on her mother’s that still hadn’t met hers.

Silence, then, “Umthungi, can you please give us a second? Thank you.” Ubuciko was surprised, not only because she had actually called one of her inferiors by name but also because she had felt the tension and gave in. A heavy silence fell again as the seamstress helped Ubuciko out of the dress and scurried from the room. As soon as they heard the door shut at the base of the steps, Ubuciko repeated herself again, this time with a tinge of anger, “I don’t want this.”

Her mother finally met her eyes, but her expression was unreadable. If she was trying to read Ubuciko’s, it didn’t show. “So you said. And your gracious mother listened. Why are you still mad?”

“Listened? When have you ever listened? I. Don’t. Want. This,” Ubuciko swung her arms wide, gesturing to everything at once and struggling to keep her voice normal. 

“No, I heard, I just don’t understand. You have never voiced anything of the sort. I’ve given you everything you wanted and then some,” Her mother wasn’t dumb; she knew what she was doing: pressing all the right buttons, seeing how far Ubuciko would go. Little did she know, though, that Ubuciko had run out of patience and acceptance.

“Exactly! You don’t understand, but you know why? Because you don’t care!” Ubuciko’s voice began to rise, and she knew she was just letting her mother win, but what had started could not be stopped.

“Of course I care about you! Need I remind you that I am doing this all, practically breaking my back every day, for you?” Her mother’s voice dripped with fake concern.Ubuciko had been seeing this side of her mother all her life, but before recently, she had chosen to ignore it because it didn’t affect her. She hadn’t known what it felt like, though. Now, here it was, suddenly affecting her, and she could feel the angry response that always came rising in her.

Ubuciko exploded. “No, mom, you’re not. You’re doing this for you. You can’t hide things from me, you know. Lions talk. Word gets around. I know about your past. I know you were poor, abused, worked to the bone, but you have to let that go. Leave it in the past! Move on! Grow up! No matter how much you try, I will never be you and you won’t be me! You cannot live your childhood dreams through me, it’s just not possible nor is it logical! Look around! You have everything and have forced everything on me? What more could want? Now just for once would you listen to what I want?”

“What more could you want than what I have given you- am giving you?” It sickened Ubuciko how her voice stayed level. She sounded hurt and looked confused, but Ubuciko knew this act like the back of her paw. She had even played this role herself when she wanted to get her way, but she was done acting, pretending to be someone she wasn’t.

“Less, mother! I want less! I want peace, silence, rest, simplicity, equality! I want you to stop, for just one day, and look around! How can you not see that by achieving your lucrative dreams you are pushing your past suffering on your entire kingdom? You’re insufferable, and you can’t even see it! I want you to open your eyes and try to see the world through mine instead of forcing your dreams on me! For gosh sakes, find someone else to shove your dreams on who actually wants to be dragged around and spoiled!”

Ubuciko was out of breath from shouting, although she hadn’t even realized her voice had risen so high. Had she ever yelled at her mother before? She doubted it. Her mother was stone faced, unresponsive. Ubuciko realized she could yell all she wanted, but her mother would never hear her. She was blind and deaf.

Her mother sniffed once, stood, and lifted her nose in the air, peering down at Ubuciko from her perch high above the realities of the world. “You are expected at dinner in precisely one hour. Come well groomed and well dressed. The visiting king and queen and their son will be here are and you are to make a good impression. They are very influential figures, you know, and may be very important acquaintances for your future. The cook will be making your favorite dessert, too. Oh, and clean up your room. It really makes you look bad.” With that, she turned on a dime and walked away, but what Ubuciko heard was, “Stop with this nonsense. I need you to make me look good tonight. A marriage to our wealthy visitors would allow me to have more power and continue with my exuberant spending ventures. You are to pretend you are enjoying yourself for my sake. And your living style makes me look bad.” She screamed in fury and threw her mother’s favorite silk pillow down the stairs right before she heard the door click shut.

-

After her first incident, Ubuciko began to accept the truth of her changes. She interalized her disgust towards her mother, continuing to smile and pretend when she was supposed to to keep the reality at bay: she was no longer her mother’s “perfect” daughter. She couldn’t make herself love her extravagant world when she say the squalor in which the Misfits lived. She couldn’t accept her mother’s belittling of the hire help and town lions. She especially hated how her mother danced around the fact that Ubuciko didn’t want to be an exact duplicate of her mother because that would imply that her mother isn’t perfect. It was as if they were fighting a silent war; Ubuciko would come home in street rags, her mother would give her an odd look, silent. Ubuciko would pick at her mountain of food while the town was in a drought and ask for it to be packaged to go, her mother would oblige, silent. Ubuciko would help her maid clean her room and wash her dishes, her mother would give the maid more work, silent. Ubuciko’s patience began to crumble, and she wondered who she was becoming: a submissive princess or independent runaway.

-

Ubuciko was slapped senseless, mindwiped, locked in a tower, her mouth sewn shut in a smile. Tears constantly spilled from her eyes; tears of joy, her mother said. She was a puppet, strung up by her childhood naivety, forced to nod her head at her mother’s command and wave at the crowds. She was a perfect doll for her mother to play dressup, a painting of a perfect example to encourage the pride. Now, she was chained to the bed, her mother’s favorite place to leave her when she didn’t need Ubuciko to make her look better. Or at least, this is how Ubuciko felt.

She shot arrows of hate at her mother, but they bounced off, her mother unaware. She screamed obscenities, but her mother didn’t hear them. She jumped out one of her enormous windows five, ten, a thousand times, but her mother didn’t even turn around. Instead, she continued to shift through Ubuciko’s wardrobe to throw out any articles that she had not put there herself. In other words, she was trying to tamper out Ubuciko’s self expression, one pruned leaf at a time.

“Why are you trying to stop me from becoming who I am?” It was a simple enough question, one that her mother could hear but would pretend not to hear, but what she didn’t know is that Ubuciko was getting better at her mother’s games, observing and learning.

Her mother froze, no doubt summoning her fake persona. Ubuciko was right: she turned, gazing dumbly at her daughter. “Honey, I thought we both agreed this was for the better. More room for those new gowns I ordered…”

Ubuciko summoned every fake tear she had been saving up and let herself blubber. Her mother rushed to her side, plopping down beside her with an “oh honey.” “It’s just that you do all these things for me and you sacrifice your own wants because of it” a lie “and I tried so hard to buy my own things so you don’t have to” another lie “and now you don’t like them” a truth “and it’s taking even more of your effort to replace them.”

For once her mother didn’t seem to know what to say or do, even though Ubuciko knew for a fact that she wasn’t convinced. Still, a few seconds of sobs later, she finally said, “I’m so sorry you feel this way. I thought- well, I thought wrong. Just tell me when I’m making you upset, sweetie pie.”

Oh, Ubuciko would not let her forget that one. Nope, that one was going to come back to get her. 

Wiping her tears with added gusto, Ubuciko said, “Okay, mom, sorry again,” she glanced up at her closet of ragged clothes her town friends had given her to blend in (and rebel). “I’ll try to do better,” A lie.

“I know you will sweetie” a threat. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.” A half - truth.

Ubuciko may have won this one, but the war was far from over. No, in fact, the war had only just begun and her mother now knew what she was up against.

-

War struck. Even more taxes were enforced. Rations were placed on the already scarce resources. Famine and sickness spread. Tension built against their oppressive ruler. Ubuciko’s life continued as normal.

-

Ubuciko cleared her throat, but there was no response besides the fidgeting of the servants that waited in the shadows of the silent chamber. She had refused her breakfast, and her mother had refused to address her since she had taken to wearing her street rags all the time. Ubuciko liked how it made her squirm. She tried again.

“So, I heard that the daily death tolls are increasing even after you imposed yet another new tax,” Ubuciko’s voice came out as sickly sweet as the over - sugared pancakes her father was so gracefully stuffing his face with. So he could feel the tension that her mother refused to acknowledge. But this wasn’t about him. He was just as entrapped in her mother’s cruelty as Ubuciko was; the only difference is that he did what he was told and Ubuciko didn’t.

Her mother daintily set down her silverware and motioned for a servant to take it away. The poor maid hardly had time to scurry forward and snatch it away before the queen folded her paws on the table, mirroring her daughter. So she was serious. Good, so was Ubuciko. It had been two and a half years since the first incident of disagreement, and Ubuciko had been testing her mother’s boundaries more and more. Recently she had (kindly) started limiting Ubuciko’s free time so that she hardly had a chance to see the Misfits, but news got around. She knew how hard life was for the town lions, and she knew she was the only one that could do anything about it, as long as she acted carefully. 

“Yes, I’m afraid the opposing pride broke our defenses on the east side. I spoke to the commander, and he is hoping to regroup and defeat the squadron that broke through tomorrow,” Again with the avoidance. While Ubuciko chose her words, her mother silenced her poor father - who hadn’t relented on his stress eating - with a sharp glare. Of course, it was gone before she looked back to her daughter.

“Oh, I hadn’t didn’t know that! How sad! I was actually talking about the town lions. You know, the ones still at home,” Ubuciko packed fake emotion into every word.

“My, I didn’t know that there was a death toll to keep track of!” Her voice was even sweeter than Ubuciko’s but more like claws on a chalkboard to her.

“Really? I figured you would have known since you’re in charge of the protocol and dealings of the townsfolk.” 

“Gosh, I’ve been so busy with-”

“What? Restrictions? Taxes? Rations? Keeping me in the dark?” Her father excused himself, but neither of them broke eye contact.

“I’m not sure what you’re getting at, sweetie,” 

Ubuciko had made her point, and they both knew it.

“I’ll take a plate now,”

-

The king, Ubuciko’s father, was dead. He was leading a charge that he promised would lead to victory; he swore his presence on the frontline would bring the confidence that would bring that unlikely victory. The queen agreed with less arguing than there should have been. Needless to say, there was no victory and no tears from the queen. Instead, she found that the crown fit perfectly, and that it’s even easier to impose restrictions when there is no middle man. 

Without their only barrier from the queen, the pride reached its breaking point. The battlefield and the streets were red with the blood of the pride. Life in the town was horrific, a nightmare for everyone, including Ubuciko. Lions despised the queen even more than before and began to call the murderous attacking pride their “liberators.” Violence started popping up, and the queens’ guards started cracking down. When one of the youngest Misfits died, the last part of princess Ubuciko did too. Rumors spread of an uprising, an attack from the inside out, and at its core was the only person in the pride who could look the queen in the eye and still keep their life.

-

What the queen didn’t know is that a little kindness goes a long way, especially for people who aren’t used to receiving it. As it turned out, this also applied to the gate guards. When you would rather be poor and homeless than suffer any more in your job, you allow some things to slip by, including a princess under house arrest.

The night was dark, and the pride’s outlook darker. In her street rags, Ubuciko slipped through the shadows unhindered, whispering words of hope to those who suffered there. Her presence was a beacon of light to the town lions and an elusive shadow for the queen. The guards wouldn’t be looking for her in the town, especially with her fake limp and make up. Too bad they didn’t have to.

Ubuciko knew her mother was smart, so she knew to watch her back and be cautious of everything. Before she even stepped into the alley leading to the Burrow, she knew something was wrong. When she peaked around and saw the guards’ hulking figures blocking the entrance to the Burrow, she thought for sure she had walked into their trap. All of their planning, all of her sneaking, for what? Then, a paw grabbed her tail and yanked her into a doorway. Her heart stopped, then skipped a beat when a familiar voice started whispering commands a thousand miles a minute in her ear.

“Don’t make a sound. In fact, don’t move. It’s kinda cramped in here…” 

When her eyes adjusted to the darkness, Ubuciko could make out the forms of all the remaining Misfits, and couldn’t help but smile. Just a few years ago she would have sided with her mother, calling the “peasants” dumb and helpless, and know here she was, one of the peasants, outsmarting her mother, and about to commit the highest form of treason.

“Do you have the things? Do you remember the plan?”

“Of course,” Ubuciko had been rehearsing the plan in her mind day and night for a week so she knew it by the back of her hand and had worked out any potential issues that might arise. In a single beam of moonlight, she opened her satchel to reveal a key, a map, a letter, and, most importantly, the queen’s crown. Without it, Ubuciko knew her mother was just a peasant girl again, a helpless orphan looking for her prince (unfortunately, she had found him all those years ago).

Ubuciko gave the key and map of the palace to the first group of Misfits. They were to break into the queen’s food storage and lead in the pride. Whatever else the pride got their paws on in the castle was theirs to have as far as Ubuciko was concerned, too.

She gave the letter to a second group who had arranged to meet with the attacking pride. It was signed by Ubuciko who now carried the crown, and with it, all the ruling power as far as anyone was concerned, and sealed with the king family’s crest stamp which Ubuciko now bore on her finger. It promised their foes whatever territory and fortune they desired as long as they retreated and left the kingdom itself unharmed. The two groups departed, leaving only Ubuciko and Kela in the darkness.

Finally, the crown. Kela kneeled before Ubuciko, both of them beaming through their tears. Streaks of Kela’s beauty shown through the paths her tears cut through the mud that had always caked her face. The crown looked so much better on her than it ever had on the queen. Beauty really does come from within.

Ubuciko gave the “with the power invested in me” speech in a rushed whisper, and the two lionesses embraced for the last time. Out of all their plans, this moment was the most important and the most obvious for Ubuciko. Kela was born to lead a kingdom that had been hurt. She was everything Ubuciko could never be for this pride, not only because of her mother’s reputation but also because of Ubuciko’s transformation. Where Ubuciko wanted to be the complete opposite of her mother, Kela could be what the queen could never: true. Besides, although they may not know it, Ubuciko knew the pride needed a Misfit queen. Kela was completely opposed to the idea at first, saying that she wouldn’t even be able to lead the Misfits without Ubuciko, but over time she warmed up to the idea. Tonight, the reality and truth of it bloomed within her, and Ubuciko had never been more sure of anything in her life.

The plan was simple: while the first group was letting the pride in the palace, Kela would claim her place on the throne. The second group would reason with their attackers and end the war how the queen never could, or, perhaps, never would. Ubuciko would flee the city and wait for anyone who wanted to escape with her. By morning, the queen would have met her fate (whatever the pride desired), the Misfits would be dividing again into a group to flee with Ubuciko and help everyone find new prides and another to stay with Kela.

And, when the sun did rise the next morning, it found a pride saved by Misfits and a princess on her way to a new life, on a path she had paved for herself. And Ubuciko never looked back.