Waves lap gently at the reef, just as they always have, washing over the pristine white sands.
As the sun sets, plumes of smoke rise from the cozy homes of the islanders. The glowing Sea Mother's Eye lanterns hang high above, shimmering in the dusk, all pointing the way back home.
Kamuta: Fatutu, let's do one final check on the canoes. We don't want Toa tipping into the sea during tomorrow's race.
Fatutu: Toa's been rattling with excitement for days. If he falls in, I doubt it'll be the canoe's fault.
Fatutu: Besides, brother, you'll be the one that has to dive in after him!
Kamuta: He swims a lot faster than I do.
The canoes are neatly lined up on the beach, each showing different degrees of wear.
Painted and adorned by various Nukutai hands, they stand like a row of strange, silent gravestones.
Fatutu: We haven't made a new canoe in a long time.
Kamuta: These old ones are enough to carry all the young folks of Nukutaeao. Paddle out to Itiiti, circle around to Miti and Vaipuna, then come back to Meli ...
Fatutu: Not if you count me! By next year, I'll be old enough to paddle too!
Hearing the faint mix of complaint and anticipation in his sister's voice, Kamuta falls silent for a moment as the sea breeze stirs around them.
Kamuta: Fatutu, for next year's canoe race around the island, I'll build you a new boat. How about that?
Kamuta: We'll find a tree with the straightest trunk, shape the prow just right. When the wind and waves come, you'll ride them like they're part of you.
Fatutu: Kamuta ...
Kamuta: Fatutu will have her own canoe, one that no one can catch, because she'll be the fastest on the water.
He paints a shining vision of a new canoe. But behind him, a wave looms silently above them, as tall as a mountain, like a curtain of black.
And it falls.
Kamuta: Fatu ... tu ...
Fatutu: ...!
Fatutu: Brother ... Toa ... Where are you? Where did you go?
Fatutu: Wait for me! I'm coming!
The sea rises and falls, and the girl's thin voice fades under the rush of waves.
But no one answers.
The water wraps around her with familiar weight. And Fatutu knows exactly where it's carrying her.
Fatutu: I want to go home. I've been gone too long. Brother, Toa, are you gone now?
Fatutu floats through the open sea, eyes straining toward the horizon where ocean meets sky—unbroken, unending.
Her island has sunk beneath the waves.
Fatutu: Gone ... it's all gone ...
Fatutu: Gone ...
Fatutu: Miti, Vaipuna, Meli ... our islands ...
Fatutu: I shouldn't have left. Why did I leave?
Fatutu: ...
Her question is swallowed up like a drop lost in the ocean—without ripples, without reply.
???: Fatutu!
???: Wake up, wake up! Fatutu!
Fatutu: ...
Fatutu: ...!
Fatutu: Selone?
Fatutu: Kamuta ...
Realizing the nightmare is over, Fatutu immediately shuts her mouth.
Selone: That was another bad dream, wasn't it?
Fatutu looks for words but only nods.
Selone lifts her shell necklace, placing one shell gently against Fatutu's forehead.
Fatutu lifts her own in reply and presses it to Selone's brow.
Selone: "Swept into the tide, scattered by the wind, gone into the mist."
Fatutu: "Let the siren's song not lead me astray; let nightmare's voice not steal me from my home."
Selone: "The shell's warning keeps me on course. Its grooves show me the path."
Fatutu: "I will return. I have returned."
Selone: You taught me that song, remember?
Selone's words pull Fatutu out from the cold sea of her nightmare at last.
Fatutu: That was the day you and Toa snuck out to sea and got caught in the storm, right?
Selone: I wanted to pick Compassare from Itiiti that day—just one more sprig for my Sea Mother's Eye. I didn't listen to the shell's guidance, and I talked Toa into taking me.
Selone: Our canoe had barely left the shore, but the wind suddenly swept us out to sea. Toa paddled with everything he had, clutching that Compassare the whole time.
Fatutu: Brother was holding back tears when he realized you were gone; he was so worried. Remember how you and Toa got such a scolding?
Selone: For a long while after, I was terrified, afraid that making it back had just been a dream, afraid that maybe the ocean had taken Toa after all.
Selone: So you sang to me.
Selone: I will return. I have returned.
Fatutu: Selone ...
Fatutu: How are you doing now? I mean, since we came here, we don't ...
Fatutu: Live as closely as we used to.
Selone: ...
It's not an easy question to answer.
Before offering each other comfort, the two friends begin to feel how small their tribe is now, and how fragile.
Selone's tears fall hot on Fatutu's arm, cooling over her tan skin.
Fatutu pulls her in tightly. Their shell necklaces knock together with a soft sound.
Selone: I'm sorry, Fatutu.
Selone: At least it's nice here. I've learned to write their language. I've been to their library. I've learned so much about the outside world.
Selone: But it's nothing like what we imagined. We believed in those stories so much that we never thought to understand what was really out there.
Selone: We never thought we'd leave ...
Selone: Even when we knew how it would all end.
Selone: I miss Toa. I miss Kamuta. I miss our island, our home ...
Slow rivers of tears carve across Fatutu's skin, sharp with grief.
She pats Selone's back; she can do nothing else. Trying to hold back their shared sorrow is like standing against a falling wave.
Fatutu: I'm here, Selone.
Fatutu: We won't lose each other again.
Fatutu: Brother and Toa have already reached where they're meant to be. Their souls rest in the depths of the sea; they aren't truly lost.
Fatutu: They'll always be there to watch over us.
Is that true?
They feel hollow, like she's not sure what to believe anymore, but they feel like the right words to say to keep her friend and her afloat.
Fatutu: Our home—our island—it will survive as long as we do.
Sonetto stops quietly, a paper form in her hand signed with small, careful writing.
Sonetto: Timekeeper, Miss Fatutu has submitted a request. She ...
Sonetto: She's asking for a form of arcane skill that can put her into a peaceful sleep, or, if not possible, then any medicine that might help.
Vertin: Medicine?
Sonetto: She's been plagued by nightmares. She didn't explain what they were about. Perhaps she didn't want to relive them.
Vertin: I see.
Vertin: I can understand her pain. Did she say anything else?
Sonetto: No, Timekeeper. She passed the form to me and left without a word.
Sonetto: I must note that Miss Fatutu's request was written exceptionally well. By the book, really. Not many people manage to be that precise.
The Foundation's forms are painfully tedious. It's nothing short of remarkable that Fatutu managed to navigate through them herself.
Vertin: I'll see what I can do to streamline the application and approval process for everyone in the suitcase. We don't need to be burdened with this kind of unnecessary paperwork.
Vertin: As for our friend, Fatutu, if she wants to rid herself of memories she no longer wants to revisit, then I think there might be a better way than arcane skill or medication.
Vertin: But it'll take time.
