Chapter Text
It's become a tradition to take children back to the old Kelutral, to pray to the spirits of the People lost in the attack and ask them to watch over them, the new generations. The children clutch each other's hands and try to act brave, sniffing until their heads ache as they chase down the faint aftermaths of smoke, staring around with wide, curious eyes at the place they've only heard stories about.
Mo'at has had a lot of experience handling children, enough to know that sometimes experience is useless and you have to hope for the best. The "best" isn't what she gets when she turns around and realizes her granddaughter has disappeared.
"Kiri!" she calls, leaving the other adults to watch the children as she picks her way through the creaky, fractured bows, murmuring a quick prayer for her lost husband's hand to guide her steps. "Kiri te Suli Kireysi'ite, you will answer me right now or I swear--"
"Grandmother, look!" A tiny head pops up in front of the trunk right at Mo'at's feet, Kiri beaming up at her through a mouthful of missing teeth. "It's growing again!"
"What do you mean--" But she cuts herself off as she leaps down to her granddaughter's side, because Mo'at can see the tiny green sapling that Kiri's kneeling next to. She swallows hard; she'd known things would start growing here eventually but to see it is another thing entirely, a vision layered with pain and beauty in equal measure.
"I heard it singing, grandmother," Kiri says softly, brushing a gentle hand along one curled leaf. It trembles and straightens at her touch, stretching to gather more sun. "Isn't it beautiful?"
"Yes." Mo'at can't quite keep her voice from trembling as she scoops her granddaughter up, feeling the little heart beat so close to hers. "Yes, it is." She clears her throat. "Now, we thank the Great Mother for the gift, don't we?"
"Thank you, Great Mother!" Kiri calls, waving--one of the habits she's picked up from her father--as Mo'at carries her away. The sapling's leaves quiver merrily, as if waving back.