The first time Mau disarmed someone—
She didn't mean to.
It happened the next morning.
And, unfortunately for him—
It happened to Lira.
"Okay," Lira announced, holding up a long stick like it was a weapon of destiny. "Today, I am learning how to fight."
Mau blinked. "Why?"
"In case I need to dramatically defend myself."
"From what?"
"Life."
"…Valid," Mau admitted.
Lira grinned triumphantly. "See? You get it."
"I get the concern. Not the plan."
"Teach me," Lira insisted, already swinging the stick with alarming enthusiasm and absolutely no coordination.
Mau stood slowly.
"I don't—"
The stick came at her.
Poorly aimed.
Too fast.
Too careless.
Mau's body moved before her thoughts could catch up.
A step to the side.
A turn.
Her hand caught Lira's wrist.
Twist—
The stick dropped.
Lira blinked.
Mau blinked.
They both looked at the stick on the ground.
"…Did you just—" Lira started.
"I didn't mean to," Mau said quickly, releasing her.
"That was amazing."
"That was an accident."
"Do it again."
"No."
"Please."
"No."
Lira crossed her arms. "You're hiding things."
Mau tilted her head, expression soft, almost innocent. "I'm not hiding. I'm… selectively not showing."
"That's literally hiding."
Mau smiled faintly.
But inside—
Something shifted.
Because that hadn't been an accident.
Not really.
Her body had known exactly what to do.
Where to move.
How much force to use.
No hesitation.
No doubt.
And that—
Was unsettling.
—
Later, Tay Eming stood across from her in the clearing.
"You are holding back," he said.
Mau looked down. "I don't want to hurt anyone."
"You will not," he replied calmly. "Not unless you choose to."
She hesitated.
Then stepped forward.
They moved.
Slow at first.
Measured.
Controlled.
Tay attacked—not fully, but enough.
Mau responded.
Her movements were fluid, almost effortless—soft on the outside, but beneath that softness was something precise, efficient… lethal, if she allowed it to be.
She didn't.
But Tay saw it.
Every shift.
Every angle.
Every choice.
"You see before you act," he said.
Mau lowered her hands slightly. "Isn't that normal?"
"No."
She frowned faintly. "Oh."
A pause.
Then—
"Tay… why does it feel like my body already knows everything?"
The question lingered between them.
Heavy.
Unavoidable.
Tay Eming stepped closer.
"Because," he said quietly, "you were not raised only by this place."
Mau's breath caught—just slightly.
"But I was," she said.
He shook his head.
"No, Mau."
The forest stilled.
Even the wind seemed to listen.
"You were brought here," he continued. "Not born to it."
Her fingers curled faintly at her sides.
"I know that," she said softly. "You found me."
"Yes."
Silence.
Then—
"There was something else."
Mau looked up sharply.
"What do you mean?"
Tay Eming's gaze shifted—not away, but deeper.
"Whoever you were before… they prepared you."
The words landed slowly.
Carefully.
But they did not miss.
Mau's heart beat louder than it should.
"That doesn't make sense."
"It does not have to," he said. "Truth does not wait for understanding."
She took a small step back.
The world felt… slightly off.
Like something had tilted.
"…Prepared me for what?"
Tay Eming did not answer.
Because he didn't know.
Or perhaps—
Because he did.
And it was not time.
—
That night, Mau stood alone at the edge of the forest.
The wind brushed against her skin, cool and restless.
She touched the red mark beneath her ear again.
It felt warmer now.
More… present.
As if it was no longer just a mark—
But a signal.
A reminder.
A clue.
"I don't belong here," she whispered.
Not rejection.
Not sadness.
Just… realization.
Behind her, the hut stood quiet.
Warm.
Safe.
Home.
And yet—
Not entirely hers.
Mau closed her eyes.
And for a fleeting second—
Images flickered.
Light.
Fabric.
Music.
Fire—
Her eyes snapped open.
Her breath caught.
The forest had not changed.
But something inside her had.
Because now—
The question wasn't just where she belonged.
It was—
Who took her away from it.