Through The Valley • Ao'nung

Chapter 33

°•. ❃ .•°

̶̶̶̶  «̶ ̶̶̶ ̶ «̶ ̶̶̶            Hardly Acquaintances            ̶»̶ ̶̶̶ ̶ »̶ ̶̶̶  

[edited]

≪ °❈° ≫

The day had begun for the folk of Awa'atlu, the sun climbing over the horizon as they settled into their posts and tended the crops. At'anau had been dismissed, avoiding the hovering hand of her father, who lingered in the tent, trying to offer consolation after last night's harsh words. She didn't dare meet his eyes as Ao'nung acknowledged Jake and walked with her toward the ilu where her siblings waited.

Jake noticed the distance his daughter kept between them and exchanged a look with Neytiri, the woman who had cultivated the girl's stubbornness. He wasn't sure how to handle this daughter, so different from the one he thought he knew, and he wondered how they would all cope with the tension in the air.

Tsireya walked alongside At'anau, barely an inch shorter, noting her silence. She wanted to speak, to lift her friend's spirit, but caught herself when she noticed Ao'nung's watchful eyes lingering on the girl from behind. She had never seen him so uncomfortable around anyone and wondered if it was nerves, or something deeper.

"At'i!"

Both girls looked up in surprise as the oldest's sudden smile lit her face, and she greeted the youngest with a warm embrace. She pointed to the ilu waiting for them, next to the others, signaling it was time to move.

The armoury wasn't far, and all the siblings had already geared up. The trio mounted the ilu, At'anau dismissing Ao'nung's attempt to hand her the equipment, grabbing it herself. She climbed atop her animal and opened her arms for the youngest to join her in front.

Neteyam and Lo'ak exchanged a glance, the other siblings fading from At'anau's mind as she focused on the small group before her.

Tuk squealed in delight at the white seashell At'anau wore around her neck—the gift she had given her little sister. At'anau smiled, assuring her she'd been wearing it the whole time.

The siblings exchanged stories, Tuk animatedly recounting her adventures while At'anau listened quietly. She couldn't help but feel a pang of guilt, realizing how much time she had missed by lingering in the past, unaware of her siblings' accomplishments. Luckily, Kiri found genuine joy in these tales, delighting in the glimpses of a world beyond the reef.

The group made their way to the sea terraces, a private spot far enough from the border to speak freely, though still within view of the others.

Lo'ak began recounting his night alone, how he had survived the strange tides, and the Tulkun that had saved him.

"I wish I had been there," At'anau whispered to herself, content to watch her siblings' reactions, especially Kiri's fascination. She chastised herself silently for not being there when her sister needed her, but took solace in the younger girl's wonder at the broader world.

"The ocean blessed you with a gift, brother," Kiri said softly.

"The Tulkun hasn't returned yet," Ao'nung said skeptically. "No Tulkun is ever alone." At'anau noticed Neteyam rolling his eyes at Lo'ak, but she ignored them both, focusing on the story.

"This one was," Lo'ak insisted, looking at At'anau. "He had a... missing fin." The girl's eyes widened, Kiri's small face crumpling in silent concern.

"Like a stump," Lo'ak clarified, pointing to his left arm. "On the left side."