I'm Not Strong Enough...

At the same time, the villagers were all the more elated to see their chief walking through the streets. Though LaRoe had splints on his ankle and arm, moving slowly with each calm step, his presence was enough to offer the tribe a sense of peace after the storm the night before.

Chief LaRoe greeted each person possible. But his eyes were honed on his son, who was stomping through the village.

That's when LaRoe knocked on the entry post in front of him, saying, "You're already done talking?"

From inside, an elderly, feminine voice laughed, "It ended whether I wanted it to or not. I can't control him. No one can once he gets like that."

"Yes… He's truly his mother's son," LaRoe sighed with a sad smile. He walked through the curtain and claimed a seat across from his mother.

Three cups were already on the table. One was empty, in front of Shaman Arbory. The second was tipped over with a dribble of tea spilled onto the table. And the third cup steamed from the freshly poured tea, waiting for LaRoe to take the first sip.

Noticing the cup, LaRoe couldn't help but chuckle and lift his cup. "He's that upset huh? … Maybe things will play out as planned. I hope Ayse will catch on and help LaRee…"

"You're sure about this?" Arbory asked. She eyed her son with an intrusive but carrying stare. "There's no going back after this. We've knocked over the first dominoes. You've only got a few minutes to stop the rest from falling in turn."

LaRoe let out a sigh of relief as the tea warmed his belly, "Hmmm… Then let them fall. We can't keep Ree here any longer. I can't offer an explanation for that side of him. It's better for Ree to go out. To discover the truth that I can't give him."

Curious, Arbory asked, "Do you remember the last time this happened?"

"Of course. It's only happened twice," LaRoe answered, "As a child during his mother's leave. He was easier to handle back then. And once during a deadly hunt. When his friend was ambushed by tigers. When Ree…

"Actually. I think Ree was about to go off last night, against Oybar," LaRoe added, startling his mother. "If Ayse hadn't stepped in…"

Smiling, Arbory raised her cup. "In that case, I fully support this crazy plan of yours. And I'm proud of you for making this difficult decision, Son. It's hard. But it's the best thing for Little Ree. You know that just like I do."

LaRoe raised his cup and took another sip. However, it didn't lighten the load on his heart.

"... What about you, Son? Don't you want to go, too? I remember your cries as she was taken away," Arbory asked.

But the chief shook his head. "No… It can't be me. I'm too weak for such an… adventure. It has to be our Ree. Regardless of my wishes to not be left alone, without my son and wife."

"Then make sure to tell Little Ree. He deserves to know how you feel before he leaves, doesn't he?" reasoned Arbory, getting up to grab more tea. "... How much will you tell him?"

LaRoe shrugged. "I'm unsure. I don't know much. And the little I do know isn't confirmed true… I think you were right, Mom. I know that Meg hid a lot of truths from me. How else could it have ended with the village's demise? And with Dad dying–"

"Stop it." Thud!

She slammed her teapot onto the table, drawing her son's gaze out of the memory replaying in his mind. Arbory shook her head and stated, "What happened was a misunderstanding. It was all bad luck. No matter what you had done, whether you saved Meg or not, whether she hid her true identity or not, it never would've changed anything.

"Even if Meg had died in her crash, those people would've eventually arrived and killed us all anyway," Arbory reasoned. "If anything, your relationship with Meg is what saved us. It was the reason she negotiated the survival of the tribe.

"And don't you dare blame yourself for the death of your father! There was nothing any of us could've done. You know your father would never want you mourning his passing while filled with self-loathing. He would rather you remember him for his strength and his accomplishments as a father."

Clenching one fist, LaRoe hesitated to take another sip. "Mom, I can't just forgive them–"

"Then don't!" Arbory argued. "Just don't blame yourself. Don't forget that your wife saved the tribe, despite the casualties of the incident. Isn't that similar to the situation with this Ayse kid?"

Chief LaRoe let his shoulders relax again. He took his next sip and sighed, "I guess… But it's not as bad this time."

"Still, LaRae's up to something by pushing for a trial the moment the sun rises. What can you do about it this time? This time, you're the chief and you survived because of the 'sky fiend'. So what will you do about this, Roe?" Arbory questioned his son, sharing her loving but stern stare.

LaRoe took a moment to think before answering, "... Kano is on my side already. LaRae has one supporter. And the other two are undecided, though I suspect they lean in our favor, according to Kano."

Satisfied, Arbory asked, "Then, what are you planning for the trial?"

"That… I'll tell you the rest of my plan. But I'll need your help one last time, Mom," LaRoe commented and leaned forward.

"Of course!" the old woman chuckled with a nod. "That's what moms are for. And I already have a hunch about what you're intending. So spill the tea already, like Little Ree."

While the son and mother began to relax as their true chat began, LaRee finally reached his destination.

There were four guards stationed at the hut, one at each corner. Both guards at the front stepped forward and raised their arms. One of them said, "LaRee, no one is allowed. You need permission from elders or Chief. You can't enter–"

"Either you let me through. Or I force my way through. Take your pick."