A man ran through the shadows, stopping in the middle of the clustered houses.

  He raised a hand. “People, listen here! The Chief ordered to stay on guard. Inform everyone you see and help us lure these killers. Stay on guard!“

  Nearby, a villager stood by his stilted bure. The wood gave a Dull, Bone-Jarring Groan as he leaned against it.

  He had a High, Prominent Brow Ridge that buried his eyes in shadow.

  Scritch-hiss. His fingers—quick, restless, and caked in coral dust—brushed against a Pandanus Basket. The sound was like a snake moving through dead grass.

  Each fruit he moved settled with a Thump-leathery weight.

  A woman stepped into the frame. Her shoulders moved with a Fluid, Independent Swing. She had a Sloping Forehead and a nose like a straight blade. Her eyes were Tidal, reflecting the orange fire.

  She watched his hands moving with a Rapid-Fire Patter of stress. She touched his hand. “Bwenau.“

  Bwenau stopped, his face a Hard Stare, not looking at her. He resumed his task, the Scritch-hiss growing louder.

  She grabbed his hand, stopping the rhythm. “Bwenau.“

  He finally turned to her. “What is it, Tirau?“ He shoved a breadfruit into the other basket. “What is it? Do you want my attention how sorry I am?“

  He held a breadfruit out toward her like a weapon.

  “They are going to kill Reti. Our only son. He might have had his behavior, but he was our child.“

  He added a taro to the pile, then stopped.

  He gripped the edge of the bure with both palms, his knuckles turning Transparent and White. “What did we do to him, that he now got himself in trouble? Are we the bad guys? And now… I'm such a stupid... doomed man!“

  He gritted his teeth, his eyes shut so tight the skin wrinkled like parched earth. His face was a Strained, Ashen Mask.

  Tirau stepped in and hugged him tightly, the only sound between them being the Wet, Shredded Rasp of his sobs.

  Inside the grove, the earth seemed to swallow each sound of the footsteps. The air was thick, carrying the smell of salt and the metallic tang of old blood.

  Chief Maluma slowed his pace. He turned, looking down in curiosity.

  A burned copper-skinned man laid on his stomach, his frame a Frozen Mass against the white coral dust.

  One side of his face was buried in the grit, but the other was exposed to the warm Orange-Hearth of the Rama torches.

  Where his eye once sat, there was now only a Rough, Wet Shadow—a socket overflowing with a dark, syrupy fluid that caught the light in a Sickly Glint.

  A trail of blood, now a Dull, Brittle Crimson, traced a path from the corner of his mouth down to his jawline. It wasn't flowing anymore; it had become a Fixed, Matte Stain.

  The Chief's eyes widened, but there was no pity in the expansion. His chest was a heavy, Rhythmic Bellows, breathing with a cold, Piston-Driven Rasp.

  His teeth were a Opaque White, bared in a silent reaction to the rot before him.

  One of the men behind him muttered quietly. "Madness."

  The Chief pulled his focus away. He kept walking forward in a Predator Snarl.

  The orange hue in his pupils didn't twinkle; they were flat, soulless glow of a furnace that had long since consumed its fuel.

  From the tree's Thoracic Level at the side, the four people disappeared deeper into the night, moving like shadows through the Trunks.

  Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

  The body still lied motionless on the coral, a forgotten piece of the island’s painting.

  Somewhere else on the atoll, the palms above didn’t touch. They leaned away from each other like they were scared to hold hands.

  This left giant holes in the ceiling of the woods.

  The moon didn't just glow through these holes. It punched through. It sent down big, heavy pipes of white light that hit the ground like silver spotlights.

  Tako walked right into the middle of it.

  He didn't look like a normal youngman anymore.

  His hair was a messy bird's nest, tangled with white dirt from the rocks. It stood up in weird, Bedraggled clumps.

  He walked with a stiff, jerky shake. His feet didn't move smooth; they tripped over the "Hidden Teeth" of the sharp coral stones buried under the grass.

  His eyes didn't stay still for a second. They zapped back and forth—left, right, ground, sky—like he was waiting for a ghost to jump out of the shadows.

  The wind didn't blow. It hissed. Sss-shhh-low. Tako stopped. He reached the center of a big circle of white light.

  The air in the grove was thick and tasted like salt and old smoke. The only sound was the Sss-shhh-low of the tall grass brushing against Tako's legs.

  He looked down at his own shadow on the grass.

  His shadow didn't move when he did.

  It stayed Still. And the shadow's head was the wrong shape—it was too big, with a Heavy, Bony Brow that didn't belong to a youngman.

  Suddenly, a soft voice cut through the quiet. "Tako. Tako."

  Tako jolted, his heart thumping against his ribs like a trapped bird.

  He swung his Rama torch in a wild circle, the heat of the flame stinging his cheeks.

  "Over here."

  Tako's eyes remained fixed on a dark spot where the trees didn't meet.

  A dark figure stepped closer slowly. The smell of damp earth and crushed leaves followed them.

  Tako took several steps behind him, his feet crunching loudly on the sharp, jagged coral hidden in the grass. "Who are you?"

  The person came fully into a beam of silver light. "It's me. It's okay."

  Tako's brows strained in surprise. The bright moonlight blinded him for a second, turning everything into white streaks. "M—mom. Y—you."

  His mom hugged him. She felt cold and trembling against his skin, and her breath smelled bitter and Sulfur- Thick like rotting Pandanus fruit.

  She held him tight. "I'm so glad I didn't have to find you so far gone. You found me."

  Tako's face looked like he forgot what he was experiencing.

  For a moment, the world went silent, like he was underwater.

  He shook his head and pulled away from her. He took multiple steps further.

  Teniko leaned her head in confusion. "Tako?.. What's wrong?" She chuckled nervously, a sharp, dry sound that didn't reach her eyes. "I'm not a stranger. Stop overreacting."

  She came closer.

  Tako held forward an arm, his muscles stiff and locked. "Stay there."

  She stopped.

  He said as he squints his eyes constantly against the orange glare. "I need time to process this..," he breathed a few seconds, the cool night air stinging his lungs.

  He looked up in frustration.

  "I cannot believe my own mother initiated herself in bloodlusted murder."

  Teniko raised her hands like she wanted to say something, but didn't. She just stood there, a shadow among shadows.

  "Tell me the truth, mom. Tell me you didn't kill him... Why did you do it?"

  Teniko fought herself to come out with words. The heavy silence stretched between them for a long time. "I... I wanted to protect you and Rania."

  "From what?" He said bluntly.

  Teniko struggled again, her fingers twitching against her skirt. "... From the Fijians."

  Tako lowered his guard in quiet shock. "The Fijians?" He looked around him, seeing only the shifting, ghostly shapes of the palms.

  "But what did they ever do to us that it led to this?"

  Teniko took her palm from her face in exhaustion. "It's complicated,"

  "No, I think I need you..—"

  Teniko undercut him. "I can't explain everything right—"

  "You murdered a high ranking family member of the village." Tako pointed his finger constantly to the side in whispered anger.

  The rough wood of the torch felt like a heavy weight in his hand.

  "Tako!" Mom yelled sharply, her voice piercing the air like a bird's cry. Her eyes were hard and bright.

  She looked away, placing a hand over her lowered face and looked up. "As I said: We have no time to talk about this right now. They will find me. That's why i'm happy I found you at such short notice."

  Tako slapped his arm on his pandanus skirt, the dry leaves crackling under his palm. "So... what now?"

  Teniko said, her voice dropping to a low, hurried hiss. "There are a few people of ours at the Canoe Coves. They're setting the sails and rations we need for the journey. No one in the village knows."

  Tako's eyes moved, tracing the silver-white shadows. "Journey to where?"

  Teniko replied simply. "Arorae. We can definitely make it if we act now. A few of us already paid the price. That is why the rest of us need to make a run for it before it's too late."

  She approached closer, her footsteps silent on the soft grass. "You and Rania could come with us right now, start fresh."

  Tako dismissed it with his head, eyes squinting in disbelief. He took two slow steps back. "No... no."

  "We can go there now. Come with me. Look, I know it's a big leap forward, but there's no time for long think-abouts. Chief Maluma will do anything to catch every single one of us, and if his men find out you were here with me, you would be nothing but another traitor."

  Tako stood quietly. The smell of burning wood suddenly got stronger. "Mom... I."

  Far off, moving orange lights flickered through the trees. He could hear the faint, rhythmic thud of many feet running on the earth. They were coming.

  The duo watched in shock and turned to each other.

  "Tako. Make up your mind quickly."

  The moment lingered. The wind hissed through the grass—Sss-shhh-low—as Tako’s shadow stayed frozen.