A/N FINALLY AN UPDATE! It took me forever to figure out how to write this next chapter. I just didn't know how to begin again when you're forced to kill off a main character of the story but that the way we know it goes... oh well. The saddest part's over, at least that I can see. Onward and upward, from here, you'll see! I hope you enjoy this chapter! More will come eventually!


The days of the week seemed to inch by at a crawling pace. Tui felt as though there were snails who moved faster than time did, especially when it came to his injuries. The mango incident did come to mind, although despite his physical pain it had felt significantly more sickening and exhausting as he was left with a basket and his mother's stories to keep him from stewing on his bed. At least then he felt his mortality and felt the acid in his throat as he heaved and sweated.

This time, it was no comparison. Every muscle in his body ached with fierce intensity and begged with each miniscule movement for more rest. It was a painful operation to even sit up on his pallet in the mornings and rise with the sun. His right arm had sustained severe joint damage from the sail tearing it around and it was clear to the village healers that he'd suffered a slight head injury from the collision he'd had with the deck of their stolen boat- and they had yet to even count the bruises and abrasions they could see scarred every uncomfortable inch of his body.

All of his injuries were of little consequence to Tala and Sina constantly visiting and ensuring his every need was catered to and news of the mana'i's sudden return to shore spread throughout Motunui like wildwire. He'd lost count of the number of villagers that had crammed themselves into his lackluster schedule and extended family who had given him wishes of health and fortune and he didn't have the heart or energy to turn them down. He'd greeted them as calmly and simply as he could, thanking them for their words and enthusiasm, but there was still one piece of his home still missing.

Alaka'i.

When the far side fishermen had found him lame on the hull of his raft and shaken him awake, he'd barely managed two seconds of consciousness before blacking out. He had tried to ask where he was, and everyone knew to whom he was referring. Nobody indulged in the unconscious teens' questions, and so they went unanswered and he was left with an uncomfortable reality in a room he couldn't leave. In the delusions he'd been wandering through in his two days on the water he could hardly tell the sky from the ocean or a chicken from a tree. He'd thought the entire journey was a horrible nightmare and that he had set out alone to find someplace for all three of them- Alaka'i and Sina both, to build a new life.

He'd barely kept his composure when no word appeared and Sina finally had to shatter his false hopes that his best friend would eventually return full mast and alive, only then remembering his still body drifting to the sea floor. It was something he had been in denial about for only a couple of days, but even so the desire to accept his friend merely eternally lost was so strong Sina had literally had to slap him across the face to get some sense to him- something she definitely regretted doing to him when it was hard not to see his reasons for wanting it to be true. No answer was better than the one he had.

Kanaloa had been uncomfortably distant despite Tui's assumption that he would be glad his heir had returned. Tala, in her classic manner, had refused to sugarcoat her husband's emotions or feelings towards Tui's abandonment of his home and role- but as always, she solidly acknowledged both stubborn parties. Tui saw escape his only chance and couldn't see the possible selfishness of his actions whereas Kanaloa lacked the empathy his son had craved and only, in his spite, had wanted an heir to his legacy.

Neither side felt right apologizing, but both women closest to their respective men knew the stalemate would likely have to end the moment Tui was able to walk again.

But he didn't- and not for a lack of peak physical condition. He had been, since Sina left him silent and shocked following her reveal of the truth, a hollow shell in quiet isolation as a word slipped in by her to Tala ended his contact with his people aside from the healers who changed his bandages and checked his vitals for any change, and even then sparse conversation occurred. Kanaloa had been furious; but Tala had kept her foot down.

Tui didn't question his mother's actions. He appreciated them more than anyone realized. Even though Sina as well as his mother were granted special permission to visit, they knew better than to prod a wave to crest- It was a pointless endeavor. Tala trusted in her wisdom that her son needed time to understand and comprehend his losses, as little consequence as they might have seemed to the council and his father.

But if Kanaloa and the council were sure of anything, it was that Tala did know best, and she knew what was best for her son. Her assertion was final, and there was no power on earth that could change her once she made up her mind.

The son of the chief spent his initial days of shock in almost constant sleep, not only following the healer's orders to rest but also to avoid the silence and marauding thoughts that plagued his conscious moments. But the nightmares were no consolation.

He could hardly go an hour in day or night without seeing the still body of his lover disappearing; dying, when he could do nothing to save him or even say goodbye. It left him with a cold sweat whenever he opened his eyes to see only the shadows of the healers off in the corner mashing herbs to powder or hear the mumblings of their thoughts instead of the dark, deadly water or the wind piercing his eardrums.

By the fifth day, the swelling on his bruises had dissipated and the abrasions were fading to scars. His arm still hurt to move but nowhere near as terribly as before. He could easily sit up and occasionally left his bed if only to avoid turning to stone in his sleep but he hardly felt ready physically or emotionally to take on Motunui… much less admit to anyone that he'd thought he was right to abandon them for the man he loved.

"You can't stay in here forever, you know." Sina told him on day six, sitting on her knees by Tui's pallet where he lounged, arms supporting his back and legs lame before him under a light woven mat.

"I can damn well try." He resolved, huffing.

"That's hardly realistic." She frowned. "You know the council won't wait much longer. Your mother said their patience is wearing thin."

The manai massaged his eyelids. They didn't care for him knowing his disregard for their deeply held traditions- that much was all too clear - but he knew deep down that his father would be running out of excuses to start training one of his cousins to continue the line despite the fact that he was alive and well.

"Which cousin are they considering?" Was all he could ask. Sina shook her head.

"Their not telling me that. All I can say is if you have any desire to..." She paused as her eyes fell to the floor as she struggled to find the correct words. "Be our chief, you can't rely on your injuries to buy you more time. The healers are reporting what they see and you're nearing a clean bill of health. If you don't show up in the fale soon…"

Tui cut her off with the raise of his hand, trying to keep himself from collapsing as he'd done the night his life had practically ended. His eyes were pricking with tears and his mouth clenched in a tight frown. His brows knitted tightly as his shoulders started shaking. Sina tentatively placed a hand on his arm and like that the warmth of her touch made him unravel.

It was a mess. A big, unfair mess. He'd barely been able to keep himself rested and his crisis of chiefdom was being dangled in front of his face once again, reminding him of how little anyone else even cared to acknowledge the loss he'd been forced to take one way or the other. It tore at his insides as he leaned into the girl who'd been so much to him through his nightmarish ordeals; who held onto him as he mourned. It killed him to think what he'd done to prevent Alaka'i's separation from him only for him to be ripped from his life anyway. What he'd sacrificed, who he'd hurt. It all meant nothing to them. How could they even think of taunting him by taking away his namesake and his right when he was being forced to lose the only light that made it worth braving the darkness?

"I can't go out there, Sina." He lowered his head as his composure returned. "How can I tell them I willingly abandoned Motunui for him? They won't understand."

"What good would hiding from the do?" She questioned. "If you don't admit it you'll be nothing more than a coward to them. You'll be… Tui."

He stared towards the mat which covers the entrance, ensuring their privacy from the island. If he couldn't be understood either way, what was there for him to lose? The people still obviously cared but what would become of it if they knew the real reason for his departure? Gossip was privy and prime on such a small island. What would there even be left to salvage? "What if that's what's best now?"

There was a lengthy silence that followed his question and realization. Sina was left dumbfounded by it. How could someone once so devoted to his home and his destiny be asking such a question? She was left with no answer other than that was who he was.

She knew no better response. "Whatever you decide to do, I promise I'll always be there to support you- chief or no - you're more than worthy of it."

To live a normal life was something Tui had occasionally fantasized about in the few moments of his youth and more often than not when he found the initial pressures of his role to be tedious and mundane as well as overbearing. Farming his keep and remaining still in good class amongst his own with Alaka'i by his side were cohesive dreams that alluded reality and something he knew could never mix. His desire to help his people and guide them was nearly destroyed in his desire to find happiness with someone he knew his title couldn't allow. Even with Sina in his place it was a pleasant and tantalizing world that laid before him; one devoid of titles, serious decisions, and endless time to share the paradise of his home with whatever children they could be blessed to raise together as a family. The days to spend working, helping, building his future stone by stone for himself and his island… they were dreams to be had. He'd never thought for more than a moment's notice that he'd ever get that chance.

It had never been within his grasp, and it seemed so close he could taste the sweet, ripening fruits of his labor. Never had he been given the choice of having his cake and eating it too. Sina promised to stay, and nothing was out there for him any longer on the open, endless sea.

But still a heavyweight bound his chances. He frowned.

"Father would never allow me to give it up."

Sina didn't nod, however. She merely studied her friend and sighed, her shoulders sinking and her gaze dulling through half lidded eyes. "Maybe he would." She answered simply.

"You don't know that."

"No, I don't, Tui." They were rounding this topic again and it irritated her. "But what have you got to lose at this point? You've already tried leaving and it nearly killed you! You're acting like a coward not to even give your father the chance!"

"I already did." He growled, remembering his fight before he'd decided to leave. "All it did was prove that tradition is more important to him than my happiness! Unless he hit his head at some point between now and then why would he ever be in a forgiving mood?"

"And what you're doing now is no better than what he did." Her gaze hardened into a heated stare. "You're both such stubborn little children and neither of you will admit you're wrong because you're too afraid to budge!"

His face grew hot. "I'm the one who went out into the ocean-"

"No," Sina cut him off. "You're the one who ran away from his island, abandoned his family and friends, and sunk his boat before day one! I told you running away can't fix your problems, Tui; when will you see that?"

"I know that now and I'm not running away! Sina you know he'll never listen to me after what I did. All those things you said are true, I don't want to admit it, but they are. But even if I did apologize what good would it do? He never sees success after so much failure and especially from his own son. He couldn't even look at me after he found out about-" He hiccuped at his name. "About us. He couldn't even bear to think his precious heir was becoming the tabu nightmare he feared. I not only broke status but broke his most sacred law."

"No one goes beyond the reef." Sina finished.

"And what do you think he'll say to me after avoiding visiting me for almost a week after leaving? If he couldn't look at me then he clearly doesn't feel any different now." He gibed.

"Maybe you just need to talk things out with him." She countered. "He might have had a change of heart."

"And maybe I need to disappear."

"You'll never know unless you actually try." She refused to break her stare. "Please, Tui. Wouldn't he want you to talk things out? He never did."

He nearly winced at the mention with his wounds still fresh and raw. He didn't even have to ask initially. No, Alaka'i wouldn't have wanted him to talk things through with his father. The sneaking around, the fear, the sleepless nights spent wondering if they'd be found out tomorrow or at the next harvest. The impossible amounts of anxiety he'd caused them over their relationship were merely the tip of the taro as far as either of them were concerned.

And yet... his uncle came to mind.

He'd sounded so defeated that night, packing his belongings and food, weighing the essential to the nonessential with fear tightly wedged in his throat. Even when they'd set out, the lack of clarity or closure left him hollow and seemingly separated. The mystery of his uncle's final words had haunted him into the afterlife, and even so he lacked true approval from the last family member he had. He'd never stated his blessing, nothing of Tui at all and it had to have resonated that there seemed to be a knowledge shared between uncle and nephew that they would not be apart for long- long enough that closure over courting the chief to be could wait until he saw him once more.

Of course, his own father was nowhere near mortality. He had at least another five years before he had to consider the end was near. Another five years to avoid the topic- to avoid the closure and drag his son through the mud to cultivate tension. But that was being ridiculously unrealistic. They were family and on top of that rulers. Motunui couldn't wait for them to resolve the issue until their chieftain's deathbed.

There was nothing else to say on the matter. Alaka'i would've killed for the closure Tui was too afraid to obtain, and his duty called him to act, whether he was ready for it or not.

Sina seemed to notice this resolvement and shot him a small smile before leaning in and kissing him. Strangely, Tui didn't object even in his tender state. Having convinced her friend to continue moving forward, she stood up and walked towards the doorway.

"Sina?" She halted, her hand on the mat's edge. She faced him as he sent her a smile. "Thank you."

She fondly returned the favor and nodded. "He's at the fale tele whenever you need him."


The next morning was one of mixed emotions for the manai.

His mind made up the day before to fix things or at the very least acknowledge his mistakes, he'd spent the rest of the afternoon once Sina left deliberating what he could possibly say to lessen the clear intentions he'd had that day. He'd debated sugar coating his actions. He'd thought about pushing the offensive angle. He'd even practised his words to abdicate, if it came to that. He assumed he likely wouldn't be alone for his conversation. The village council would no doubt be there to listen in and pass their judgements as a jury. Careful consideration meant the complete and whole truth would likely end in bitter fighting- something he knew better than to engage in after all the sour words and cruelty shared between the parent and his son.

He had barely touched his food the night before the fateful talk, and finished a coconut Sina had brought him. HIs stomach refused to cooperate out of sheer anxiety over the moment. His sleep had been fitful and no less nightmarish plagued than any night previously and he'd awoken several times in the darkness and solitude of the healing room to the gushing of the tides and rush of the currents that could be heard from behind him. The sounds of the ocean, if anything, fueled his fears more than anything. It almost seemed spiteful, the way the demon played it's games.

By morning he was exhausted and nearly forced himself to call it off, knowing whether he did so today or tomorrow was in the end, up to him. But the threat of his removal by the healers and the council's pressures reminded him being chief meant being ready to lead his people at a moment's notice- not suspending his role for the sake of a restless night.

So he changed into his patterned ie'toga over his red tepenu, brought in the night before by Tala without a word exchanged, combed out his frazzled hair, and paced the rather small room, trying to consider his best defense.

With the sun climbing higher into the sky, he resolved his chosen words, and emerged into the light of the new day. The intake of the lush vegetation and the vibrant neons and soft pastels of nature were nearly blinding after six days in a white room with fleeting glances at the world outside. The saccharine scent of wild hibiscus, torch ginger, and paper flowers made the paradise of his home all the more painful to witness after his attempts to sail beyond the reef. Such rugged natural beauty had been captivating for generations, and even fascinated him well into his teenage years. He'd lost count of the wandering he'd done in his childhood through gardens, jungles and meadows, wasting the day under the sun and enjoying the splendor of his seemingly infinite world.

Following the path to the fale tele was unfamiliar in the manner he now walked. He'd so often practiced the ceremony with the whole of his people watching as his father and mother both donned their headdresses and walked to the daily meetings joined at the hands as their people gathered in procession and the members of their aiga would listen and debate the matters of the day. It was much more ceremonious and public than he'd ever preferred, and walking alone with only his ie'toga symbolising his importance was a strange feeling indeed, especially as the few villagers he ran into merely nodded, not acknowledging his role or place one way or another. It seemed as if Tala's ban on visitors arbitrarily extended to outside the healing fale.

It was preferable to being bothered constantly, but it was also not particularly endearing when people refused to speak to him at all. While yes, he was still torn up over his duties and Alaka'i, it would've been nice to feel acknowledged.

But then again, he didn't think he deserved much, considering his desertion. He scolded himself for wanting what he knew he didn't truly deserve, but respect was dismissable. Acknowledgement was polite. It was something Alaka'i had never received unless he'd done something particularly admirable.

But he ignored the feeling of emptiness in his stomach and continued until the foreboding shadow of the open pavilion eclipsed his path and the cool breeze of the mid morning current greeted him, the foamy waves crashing softly on the not so distant shore. The grass roof's fibers quivered in the wind as his legs felt useless, knowing what likely awaited him. He could see the aiga chattering inside on their mats, the sounds of their debate growing clearer as he rounded the bend in the dirt pathway and stood before the stone steps that would carry him to his fate.

The massive coconut columns were laces with several bunches of flowers- nowhere near the thousands that decorated the column when the family walked towards it like they did once every new moon for tradition sake. The cool shade embraced his growing form as the talk and mumbling suddenly cut out in silence.

His eyes quickly adjusted to the darkness. He could see his parents sitting at the head of the circular group, his father having held up a banded wrist to end the currant discussion. Tala and Kanaloa shared a look for a moment as Tui's presence was processed by the aiga. In an instant the weakness vanished, now replaced with a frothing courage.

He could feel their eyes watching them, especially the elders of the council both men and women alike, observing the sprouting youth through withered eyes. Silence prevailed for a long period of time as his father lowered his hand.

"I declare this meeting adjourned until further notice!" He declared, his voice echoing in the chambers. Mumblings of confusion and irritation from some persisted as the couple shared gazes amongst themselves. "This is a personal matter. All of you are free to go."

With his explanation Tui walked further into the fale tele as the aiga young and old silently removed themselves from the vicinity, rolling their mats up and depositing them around the edges of the building before streaming out the entrance and back to their lives. Only his parents and the council remained behind.

Kanaloa looked over at the twelve people who remained in their designated space and cleared his throat. "You are dismissed." He hinted.

One by one the elders got up and walked out past Tui. Few seemed to bear any manner of ill will, however at least three of them, all men, walked past him wearily, as if suspicious of him. Kanaloa then turned to Tala, who took the hint and picked herself up before taking her tapa mat and moving it so it was poised directly across from the chieftain. After this, she walked towards Tui, performed hongi, and gave him a thumbs up.

He wished he could've believed it, but he was gratefully alone with his father. After his mother walked down the main steps, ensuring their solitude, Kanaloa motioned for Tui to sit on the sat Tala had moved, likely for him. Tui moved slowly as he kept a straight face, and lowered himself to his knees.

His father looked slightly worse for the wear in the darkness of the fale and as far as Tui could see it looked as if the leader of his island had shared his son's sleeping problems judging from the lines under his eyes. His once jet black hair as it had been in Tui's childhood now had several gray lines added to what had been before his departure, and something about him seemed more… somber- even tired.

But his age and appearance aside, his demeanor was, as typical, an enigma at times and especially now. The silence continued until the chief broke it.

"You wished to speak with me, Tui?"

He took a breath, disappointment crashing into him like a rogue wave. He swore he almost sagged with his response. "Yes father."

"And what about now?"

The next words were bitter to regurgitate. "My abdication."

At this his cool stare widened into one of abject confusion. "Your abdication? What for?"

"Sina told me everything." Tui folded his hands as his head listed downwards. "About how the council is considering others to become chief. She didn't say that but I know it's possible. I know many of them are displeased with me and my actions."

"So is this what you want?" His father countered quickly without a hint of anger which the manai found rather jarring given his explosion involving their fight before.

Tui forced himself to weigh his options and had been doing so ever since Sina had floated the possibility his way. He'd paced his room for hours at a time considering the pros and cons of an ordinary life when he'd been given the opportunity to do much more than anyone else of Motunui could've even dreamed of accomplishing. He'd thought of the people, his people, the ones who treated him as more and as less all the same when most of the time he wanted nothing more than to be with them rather than above them. The same people as Alaka'i and Sina both victimized by their place and role on this island. The laws that had forced him to give one of them up. The traditions that plagued his transition and the tortures of knowing coexistence in the form of a duty and a relationship were nothing but a fantasy too far to reach.

What could he change to ensure the past was never repeated? His own people- his own children - would he ever want them to suffer as he had? Had Tala been correct in her words that he could change things once his ascended the fale tele?

He didn't know. But he be damned if he were to let anyone else feel unincluded because of arbitrary social systems that had gone out of style years ago. He would never let the opportunity to improve the lives of those he cherished to be made equal to that of himself.

He shook his head at his father. Kanaloa's lips curved into a prideful smile.

"I hadn't thought so... at least, not now. But I couldn't blame you if you did. I meant what I said to you before, son, when I took you up to the Place of Chiefs. If you decided there was something out there that was more to you than becoming chief I had made my peace with accepting that. But on the matter of who, unfortunately, is where I lost sight of things."

Tui felt wobbly on his knees as his father's smile disappeared.

"Was I becoming tabu?" He accused.

Kanaloa's brows raised, surprised. A moment passed as he thought on the question and took a breath and sighed with it. "No, Tui. Not to me."

"Then what was that whole fight even about?" His voice was beginning to rise. It hardly sounded like his father believed what he'd just said. "Did you even care about him at all?"

"Who? The boy who you cared for?"

"Alaka'i." He seethed. "The man I loved and who died when we left."

"Tui you know my job is to see to it that everyone on this island is cared for." He continued in a level voice, being slightly defensive to avoid either one of them blowing up. "I know he meant the world to you. I know you loved him."

"And you also knew that love was forbidden. Your job seems to be more about upholding the laws that kept him and others as the lowest rank. Did you ever actually consider what being called a Toa, Tohunga, Mana can do to a person? He felt trapped because of his place father. Alaka'i was a selfless person who was forced to work alone because of an arbitrary social standing that kept him below deserving food or help. No matter what he did there was no improving things to him. I was all he had left when his uncle died!"

"It sounds to me like you were helping him out of pity." He quipped.

He felt rage coursing through his being as he responded, his voice quivering with anger over his father's accusation. "I helped him because I loved him! I loved him for who he was as a person- not the title or the hardships! Do you have any idea how much easier my life would have been had we not been forced to hide and pretend we weren't together because of our different classes? If he were Mana or even Tohunga there would be no problem. But because of a tradition that means nothing now, he felt trapped. We felt trapped."

"Enough to abandon your home for a pointless adventure on the sea? Boats never come back Tui. You knew the rules but apparently that one didn't matter to you either did it?"

"What choice did we have?" His eyes narrowed. "If we had stayed he would have been killed. Don't even try to deny that."

"The matter would've gone to the council." Kanaloa corrected. "The punishment would've come through them."

"And don't think I didn't notice the looks some of them gave me when they left us for this chat. The punishment would've meant misery for both of us and all that would've been accomplished then was we'd just leave after. I never wanted it to happen like that."

"What are you talking about?" He seemed perplexed.

"I never wanted to be chief of Motunui just to stay on this island. I wanted to sail… I wanted to voyage again! I never wanted to have to run away to get that and all it did was get him killed. Because of this tradition I can't look at the ocean anymore without seeing him; without seeing him dying. Do you have any clue what that's like? Being afraid of something you loved?"

He slowly shook his head. "Is that truly what you both felt?"

Alaka'i was afraid of his home and Tui now of the ocean. Tui easily would've responded in a snide manner but he felt exhausted and irritated from this conversation, still unsure if he had gotten anywhere with him.

"We didn't have anything but each other. We both felt abandoned. We both felt unwanted. We both thought it was the only way out. I'd already felt that way before looking out at the sea, and our fight made me think it was us against the world. You made me abandon Motunui."

The accusation settled in the air like a fine dust. Silence prevailed as if the slightest breath or movement would destroy all harmony within the world and beyond. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Kanaloa nodded.

"I…" He stumbled, clearly still processing the words Tui had been afraid most to say. "I should've known this was coming. There was so much I should've said instead of what I did and I know I can't ever take back what I did- what I made you think or feel or forced you to do. I'm sorry, son. Not just for Alaka'i, but for everything. I'm sorry for making you feel like I ever wasn't proud of you, like you weren't what I wanted in an heir or a son. I'm sorry I made you feel like you had to choose between your happiness and your role- pleasing me or Motunui. You don't ever deserve that and you never did. I was just too afraid of losing it all."

"Losing it all?" Tui echoed.

"Losing their trust in you. Losing your trust in me. I was a fool and a selfish one at that. I was too afraid of losing my only son and the moment you left all I could think was that the last words I said to you were ones of spite and banishment."

Tui's eyes lowered to the floor, guilt suddenly coming over him. Had he actually thought that nobody would miss him?

"I treated you like an heir instead of a son. And not just when we fought- I did it every day. Every time I forced you to spend working to become a chief. I could only see myself in you. I'd forgotten what parts of your mother you'd kept buried away."

"She always was that way, wasn't she?"

"That was why I loved her. That's why I noticed her. She was a free spirit and a balance to my blindness. She was the compassion and grace that I can fail to be. She still is to this day. She made a fine wife and mother, better than I could ever be to you. You're more like her than you realize."

"Don't let mother hear you say that. You'll never hear the end of it." He actually felt himself laughing and his father shared a small chuckle, still reserved as always.

"I always thought that being rigid was all I could do to keep you prepared. She was never one for that… Alaka'i wasn't either, was he?"

Tui's smile disappeared, the mention of an actual kindhearted question in front of so much open hostility and ignorance rather shocking. But it was pointless ruining what openness hed finally achieved, so he indulged.

"He never let himself frown, even when he was at his worst. I knew he was in pain but he always had a smile for everyone- me especially. He was always the risky one."

Until the night I got him killed. He almost finished as he deflated at the thought.

"And what of the Mahi'ai girl?" His father asked.

"Sina?" The chief nodded in confirmation. "She helped us go- she helped us hide. She's done so much for me and I know I owe her the world. She cares about this place father. They both did, deep down… like I do."

There was a peaceful silence that passed over him as Kanaloa smiled again, the same prideful smile he'd given so many times before.

"I'll talk to the council later tonight about their feelings over your decisions." He felt the blood flush from his face as fear replaced his comfort. Then the smile on his father changed to a smirk. "I'd appreciate your help in convincing them."

It subsided. He internally breathed a sigh of relief. "When?"

"Later tonight. Tala will let you know. Until then eat something. You look rather pale." He remarked.

Tui felt too exhausted to react with more than a weak chuckle of assurance. With their conversation over, he rose from the tapa mat and started to walk out of the fale tele. He'd just set one foot on the first step down when he his father called his name.

"What is it?" He turned back as his father stood and walked up to his son, something clutched in his right hand. He could see the vibrant coloring and bright red feathers. The stitches of cowries had been removed, but it was still the band he'd worn proudly.

Kanaloa pressed it into his hand, cupping Tui's hand in both his aging ones. They performed hongi, the connection reforged.

"If you ever change your mind," Kanaloa began as he released Tui's hand. "You know where to find me."

Tui knitted his brows. "But the shells are missing?" He asked, confused.

The chief smiled knowingly as he turned away from his son and walked slowly back into the fale. "You'll think of something."


A/N And the next chapter will eventually be out for those who still are reading. Thank you all so much for your feedback, favorites, follows, etc. They really make this work worthwhile!