Part 8: The Story of You and Me

Ulu: When I finally awakened completely, I told her everything.
Ulu: From unspoken words in the past to words that should be spoken now.
Ulu: We understood each other and exchanged our flames again.
Ulu: A new building has been erected on that red earth, and everything you see around you has changed. Even you are not entirely the old "you" any longer.
Ulu: This sports field has as many eyes cast upon it as before, maybe more. The flames remain as cheerful as ever.
Ulu: It still belongs to the arcanists and mankind together. To those who cheer for the light and flames.
Spathodea: Hah ... Haha... Again we walk on this glorious path together, Ulu!
Spathodea: Ulu! Ulu!
Spathodea: Have I grown up like you wished for me? Am I a new and different me now?
Ulu: My friend! My dear friend!
Ulu: You’re my Flammy, but you’re so much more than that...
Ulu: You’re also my Spathodea... My little girl...!
Ulu: I hope you always run in the free wind, just like we did on the grasslands long again—
Ulu: You’ve grown up—so far from the age when I knew you so well and from when we were separated—
Ulu: And I... I will always accompany you along your path.
Ulu: Keep that spark in your heart, in your bones, like you once promised—
Ulu: Run, my child!
The gold medal hanging around her neck reflects the flames, each shining brilliantly.
The flames on her gloves, embroidered with her name, reflect Ulu’s eyes, glowing with the same radiance.
Just like a championship trophy held high above her head—just like the sweat shed through countless practice sessions.
Just like the blazing flames that covered the Uluru sports field.
Ulu: I once fell asleep and was awakened by the sound of that heart beating.
Ulu: Through her eyes, I saw the world of today—so wide and boundless, it forced my flames to tremble at every turn.
Ulu: Even more distant than the grassland, more vast than the fields of red earth—vast enough for her to run freely.
Ulu: But along the way, I lost touch with her once again.
Ulu: I would awaken briefly to see her talking and laughing with her family or friends.
Ulu: To see her clenching her teeth and swinging her fists during training.
Ulu: And I saw her lost and downhearted, tears pouring over flames and fizzling them into a puff of white smoke.
Ulu: I’m so lucky to see you again!
Ulu: On the field of the Uluru Games, I saw her holding a torch with the medal, the very one she had so long looked forward to, hanging from her neck.
Ulu: I stopped my endless running and returned to her.
Ulu: And she staggered onward, picking up her pace—running toward me.
Ulu: Like two flames merging into one.
Spathodea: Hey, there you are! I couldn’t find you anywhere...
Excited cries echo between the rocks and the red earth.
This is where arcanists tread—where they light their torches for Malingee's Harvest.
Mankind also ventures here, raising rackets and bouncing balls into the air.
And here the flame stands opposite the girl who found her.
Ulu: Look. You and I are independent sparks, standing apart from each other again.
Spathodea: I know what you’re trying to say, Ulu.
Spathodea: But we can head to the same destination. Two is always better than one.
Spathodea: It’s the same as it was in the past.
Spathodea: Come on.
The girl takes off her gloves and spreads her palm wide.
Ulu: Okay, but don’t forget—I'm old now, so don't blame me if I nag at you.
Ulu: Just don't fall again—walk carefully around the grass and watch your feet...
Ulu: I think you already know...
The flame leaps into the palm of her hand and lands as lightly as a cat.
She wraps around her five fingers, spreading up to her wrists. It’s a perfect fit, well-worn and familiar like her most cherished boxing gloves.
Take another step forward.
Step into the grounds of the Uluru Games. Go back to where you came from. Back to the fire...
Return to that familiar place. The place you belong.

Spathodea: Hah ... Haha... Again we walk on this glorious path together, Ulu!
Spathodea: Ulu! Ulu!
Spathodea: Have I grown up like you wished for me? Am I a new and different me now?
Ulu: My friend! My dear friend!
Ulu: You’re my Flammy, but you’re so much more than that...
Ulu: You’re also my Spathodea... My little girl...!
Ulu: I hope you always run in the free wind, just like we did on the grasslands long again—
Ulu: You’ve grown up—so far from the age when I knew you so well and from when we were separated—
Ulu: And I... I will always accompany you along your path.
Ulu: Keep that spark in your heart, in your bones, like you once promised—
Ulu: Run, my child!
The gold medal hanging around her neck reflects the flames, each shining brilliantly.
The flames on her gloves, embroidered with her name, reflect Ulu’s eyes, glowing with the same radiance.
Just like a championship trophy held high above her head—just like the sweat shed through countless practice sessions.
Just like the blazing flames that covered the Uluru sports field.
Ulu: I once fell asleep and was awakened by the sound of that heart beating.
Ulu: Through her eyes, I saw the world of today—so wide and boundless, it forced my flames to tremble at every turn.
Ulu: Even more distant than the grassland, more vast than the fields of red earth—vast enough for her to run freely.
Ulu: But along the way, I lost touch with her once again.
Ulu: I would awaken briefly to see her talking and laughing with her family or friends.
Ulu: To see her clenching her teeth and swinging her fists during training.
Ulu: And I saw her lost and downhearted, tears pouring over flames and fizzling them into a puff of white smoke.
Ulu: I’m so lucky to see you again!
Ulu: On the field of the Uluru Games, I saw her holding a torch with the medal, the very one she had so long looked forward to, hanging from her neck.
Ulu: I stopped my endless running and returned to her.
Ulu: And she staggered onward, picking up her pace—running toward me.
Ulu: Like two flames merging into one.
Excited cries echo between the rocks and the red earth.
This is where arcanists tread—where they light their torches for Malingee's Harvest.
Mankind also ventures here, raising rackets and bouncing balls into the air.
Ulu: Look. You and I are independent sparks, standing apart from each other again.
Spathodea: I know what you’re trying to say, Ulu.
Spathodea: But we can head to the same destination. Two is always better than one.
Spathodea: It’s the same as it was in the past.
Spathodea: Come on.
The girl takes off her gloves and spreads her palm wide.
Ulu: Okay, but don’t forget—I'm old now, so don't blame me if I nag at you.
Ulu: Just don't fall again—walk carefully around the grass and watch your feet...
Ulu: I think you already know...
The flame leaps into the palm of her hand and lands as lightly as a cat.
She wraps around her five fingers, spreading up to her wrists. It’s a perfect fit, well-worn and familiar like her most cherished boxing gloves.
Take another step forward.
Step into the grounds of the Uluru Games. Go back to where you came from. Back to the fire...
Return to that familiar place. The place you belong.