A New Mission: Ash to Fire

Kindling

It was the day after Zek'arayo's funeral and Miles was in his hut in the late morning staring at the ceiling shirtless, as he does. He had his hands clasped together below his waistline, his thumbs twiddling slightly, his right knee bent up, and his tail curling on his sleeping pad. Thinking. Miles slept in late on account of barely getting any rest since their departure to Dragon's Tail, only fitting in a restless nap, and then becoming more exhausted from the emotional and slight physical exhaustion of the funeral.

Last night after the funeral was over, the people headed back to the village with significantly less structure than how they arrived at the River of Fire, an air of mourning and sadness still overtaking them as they all returned at different paces. Zu, though she had reached out to gently hold Miles' pinky as her father was lowered into the lava had abruptly left with her mother a few moments after the last drumbeat, still not acknowledging Miles.

Miles was bothered by her cold shoulder, but her moving to stand with him at this highly emotional moment provided him deep assurances that things were going to be okay between them... with some more time. Dr. Park told him to wait for her to come to him, and she also told him to be aware if Zu wanted him to go to her, which is what he attempted by placing himself in the family position of the procession.

Miles suddenly became amused. He couldn't believe he was actually acknowledging the advice of a therapist... or... whatever the hell she was. Psychologist? Though he supposes he did literally break down in front of her, lamenting his own existence... Miles cringed with embarrassment at his recollection of that moment of emotional weakness.

He leaned up, ready to get out of his hut and see how the Ash People were preparing for War. Miles exited, still shirtless, his tank in his hand, and saw that only Lyle was sitting at the hearth. He was taking his machete, his personal favorite melee weapon, and throwing it down, bored, into the log beside him. Throwing it in. Pulling it out. Repeat. He found the sudden abrupt stop of the weapon cathartic.

Miles approached and Lyle looked at him and said, "Boss."

"Mornin' son... Where's Mansk?" Miles asked. He knew damn well that boy wouldn't still be sleeping.

Lyle tried to suppress a grin by sticking his tongue in his lip and he replied, "He went to go see Teza."

Miles beamed internally, ticking his head back with his mouth ajar and raising his eyebrows. He was happy for his Marine.

Miles then inquired, "Any news or insight into the war prep?"

"Nah, I've been here all morning."

"Well let's go find out, Corporal." Miles put his tank on.

Zu, Ta'zem, and some other warriors were sitting atop the hill outside of Zu's home and were verbally making logistics preparations for War. The main village itself had about a hundred warriors. However, there were numerous other outlying clans spread throughout the archipelago, on different islands, them having their own individual leaders, but these leaders were more equivalent to something like governors, or mayors, still answering to the Olo'eyktan and Tsahìk of the main village.

The last Zu had seen many of these clan members was for a celebratory occasion. The near entirety of the Ash People across the archipelago had, over the course of a week, gathered in and around the main village for a festival dedicated to the mass, fifty-year blooming of a rare giant red flower that produced a delicious, succulent fruit. The people called these fire flowers, a majority of which, due to soil reasons, would bloom on the main, big island.

All would come together to feast with various recipes that utilized the fruit, removing the seeds, each clan having their own cooking preparation specialty. Then, they would respectfully spread the seeds about the island in a fun ceremony. That was about three years ago. Zu was saddened that the next occasion the people would be coming together was over tragedy.