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Sand fleas

  After the goddess withdrew into the water Howaru decided to return to Faturaki and give an answer. A weariness set in, limbs suddenly heavy. He crawled up the sand dune, pulling at dewy tufts to ease the climb. At the top, sitting just behind the rise were Galaiga and Sinakoa. Both nodded and smiled. Howaru frowned back and asked, “how long were two you watching?”

  Galaiga replied while he got up on his feet, “Faturaki sent us to keep an eye on you.”

  “But for how long?”

  Sinakoa spoke up. “We watched her come and go.”

  Howaru shook his head and carried on past them.

  “She was a fine one Howaru, a true god,” said Galaiga. “Wait until Feke hear about this! Your legend grows even more!”

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  Howaru shrugged before entering upon the jungle path. He understood now, more than any other time in his life, that he could never be truly alone. Watched both on land and from above his fame would never diminish. It was a flame and he was the torch and something inside him a fuel which never burned out. For Na-Mala-o-Kala’i had gifted him twice, first her body and a second more valuable one. This second gift was one of knowledge. Self-knowledge that his mana and spiritual force was detectable beneath his skin, if only trapped. All he had to do was free it somehow and he could bury the shame of his past. This captive cloud obscured his ancestral line and the way to clearing it was somewhere on Kafiki.

  When they made it back to his shelter he was shocked to see the entire area cleared. Even his sleeping platform had been pulled apart with the logs burning in the fire pit. The two brothers welcomed his return and when he asked what had happened they pointed towards the eastern shore, where the waka lay in wait. “Faturaki told us to. He said for you to go to him when you got back.”

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