Lagi was ready to leave, to lay down on the beach in silence and stare up at the stars or to attempt sleep in his hut. He put down his cup and walked into the circle of dancers to begin his goodbyes.

He would have just left without a word, but as a sign of disrespect, he couldn’t bring himself to part without informing Ailani. She was where he expected, standing in the middle of the crowd as if she were the sun that the tribespeople were dancing around. He rested his hand on her shoulder to get her attention. She turned around initially with a look of contempt but softened her gaze as she saw Lagi’s face standing before her.

“My Lagi!” she cheered, grasping his face with her two hands and pulling in down to her level. She kissed him on the forehead, then on the mouth, and Lagi released a shy but sincere smile.

“I’m heading off,” he proclaimed.

Ailani pouted at this but did not take him seriously. “I am your chieftess! You will stay, and that is an order!”

“My head aches, Lani. I would rather rest.”

“Nonsense!” boasted Ailani, reaching to the ground for her cup of spirits. “Drink this! I have blessed it to cure all sickness!” She pushed it to Lagi’s lips before he would speak again and tilted it back so far that Lagi had to fall to his knees and lift his chin to the god of the skies to avoid getting drink all over his face.

He swallowed and wiped his chin with the back of his hand. He knew that Ailani would make him feel guilty for leaving before he even came here. Looking up at her from his knelt position, he felt a twinge in his heart. It wasn’t necessarily a feeling of sadness but rather of admiration, of recognition for all that she has done for him to integrate him into the tribe despite his lack of powers, of love. And Lagi knew more than most what pain love can bring.

“Thank you,” is all he said as he lifted himself back to his feet and kissed Ailani’s cheek. He ran his fingers across her face, and she rested her head to lean into them. He caressed his thumb across the blue and orange feather at her temple, a part of the crown she wore which meant that she had been chosen as a mate. For her, yes, in another lifetime. Many seasons ago, before Lagi was even born, before his parents were even born. Her husband was long dead now, as were the husbands of all the elders. Lagi only wished that we would someday be able to gift such a crown to a woman.

He turned away from Ailani and began his walk up the beach back to the main camp when he caught a glimpse of Samaria in the middle of the circle. She had the arms of Kaipo wrapped around her, and Lagi was relieved for a second that he wouldn’t have to watch the moment Kaipo chose her to be his wife.

He allowed himself to linger -- only for a second he told himself -- to admire Samaria’s beauty. A slight fire pulsed through his loins as he watched her hips. They swayed with the rhythm of the drums, effortlessly, flawlessly. She had her hands on Kaipo’s shoulders, and Kaipo smiled devilishly. Then, she turned around -- or, Kaipo had turned her around; it was difficult to tell, -- and those hips were now pressed into Kaipo’s thighs.

She was more than beautiful. She was fearless, strong, elegant. Everything the gods commended. Anyone would be lucky to have Samaria as a wife, and he took solace in the fact that there was likely no one more deserving of such a wife as Kaipo.

Still, just as he was readying himself to part again, he noticed something strange. A strange language to her body. The way her feet were planted just a little too far away from Kaipo’s, the way her chest made only tiny movements while Kaipo’s was nearly gyrating just behind it, the way her lips never came to a smile and her eyes stared up to the sky hopelessly.

Lagi took a step away at the same time that Kaipo leaned down to nibble on her ear, but he still saw it. And for some reason he couldn’t explain, he felt a rage brewing inside him. Almost unconsciously, he found himself running to Kaipo and tackling him to the ground.