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Confidant and friend over their familial ties, helping with information to find her brother. Has taken up the role of Black Panther in lieu of the Kings fading health and T’Challa defecting. This mantle is passed to Shuri in desperation, almost a test for her place to have the privilege permanently.

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KinG of Wakanda and previous Black Panther

Heir to the throne of Wakanda and half brother to Shuri. He hes rejected his responsibilities and moved to America to further his academia whilst developing weaponary systems for AIM.

The White Wolf. Adopted son of T'Chaka, effectively exiled from Wakanda due to his violent nature cultivated whilst running the country's secret police. Now based in America where he reportedy works as a mercenary. Although still a loyal ally of Wakanda.

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A trusted advisor and guard with the royal family

S’yan knew it was time. He had been trained in the Old Ways, he would feel sobered by the frequent whisperings of the common people as he walked by, the hushed accounts of his magic in healing. S’yan would be the one called when people were in their darkest hour, their desperate need. However the revered man knelt beside his brothers’ bedside humbled. Unable to be the source of hope that he had grown accustomed to being for people, unable to save the one person who had always protected him. He remembered words of his brother;
‘Strength comes when you are aware of your limitations’.

The king was dying. It was painful to look upon his brother, the signal of strength and power to many in this world, and yet here he was, his final days beset with pain and grief.

Days before, the Kings son had revealed to his father he was to leave Wakanda, rejecting his responsibility as heir. Detailing that he could be of greater service to a greater nation rather than wasting his talents in an isolated world his father had built. S’yan had watched as T’Challa left, his final words visibly cutting into T’Chaka’s chest. In the kings weakened state, it was too much to bear; knowing his country was now at risk to rebellion was secondary to losing his only son.

There wouldn’t be much time; S’yan left the royal grounds to find perhaps the only comfort he could provide for the aged king.

-

Cursing herself at the heaviness of her breathing, Shuri dropped from the rocks she’d been training on for the past three hours. She knew she could do better, she’d be repeating her practice well into the night if she hoped to impress herself. Her mother used to call out to her when she trained in the compound, imploring her to rest, every time eliciting the same reply.

“I will stop my practice only when I am called to serve”

Shuri would tell herself that memories of her life as a princess were wasted. She was born to be the Black Panther, and she would prove her worth to take that mantle. If it took every laboured breath until her last day, she will show her mark, she wanted only to become a legend amongst her people, revered, celebrated, honoured. Her father would only then be proud, by becoming everything she was certain her brother could not.
It must have been coming up on eight, maybe nine months since she had seen her father. The King had dismissed her, assuming her state of rage was yet another tantrum fixed with her competitive nature. The Queen had always reprimanded Shuri for her hotheadedness, a trait that commonly surfaced on a daily basis. Had her mother known, had her father even taken the time to listen to her, perhaps the fate of their monarchy wouldn’t be in ruin.

Shuri’s uncle would frequently send word for her and even visit her in her desolate dwellings to plead her to return to her rightful home. He’d sent a messenger detailing how her brother had left Wakanda, rejecting the responsibilities he’d been conditioned for all of his life. It was a message Shuri had been waiting to receive since the day she’d left.

-

It had been a day where the air felt heavy as you breathed it in. Stifling heat had slowed Shuri’s combat training and halted the master’s efforts. As expected this caused Shuri’s temper to surface once more. Thundering through the halls, by no design she had found her way into her brother’s room, clawing his books from shelves and toppling his writing desk in her blind fury. Shuri could feel her breath seething through gritted teeth, she was sure her brother would be at a court meeting, being venerated in front of the crowds. Whereas Shuri had never once been praised for her dedication to furthering her abilities. Thoughts which only darkened her mood. Papers cascaded over the floors as she turned to leave, had the foreign money not fluttered into view perhaps she would have paced through the halls until she found some calm, resolving to train alone for the evening. Had she not crouched to inspect the money, maybe she wouldn’t have seen the plane tickets dated to leave within the year.
Betrayed, confused, but ultimately vindicated for resenting her brother for so long, she knew she had to show the King. T’Challa was due to take up the responsibilities of the Black Panther at the years end. Surely her father would be grateful, thank her even, finally he’d start to believe she was worthy to wear the black suit, become a symbol of loyalty for her family, her country. She must see her father immediately.

Shuri was thankful for the noise that broke the bitter memories away from her mind. Pulling herself up and over the rocks once more she could just about make out her uncle’s vehicle trailing clouds of coppered dust behind.