A Taste of Peace

On the first day, the two clans still stood on opposite sides of the common area as though facing one another before battle.

The Fire Spirit tribespeople watched the Thunder Spirit Clan warily.

The people on the western side were no less cautious.

Lang Tuyet worked with several tribesmen to mark the new boundaries using small stones so that both sides would know exactly where they were permitted to move.

The eastern entrance connected to the Fire Spirit settlement.

The Thunder Spirit Clan was allowed to approach the altar through the western path.

Beyond the shared ground, all former territorial boundaries remained unchanged.

At the center, the flame and the cluster of Lightning continued to exist on the stone altar, silently enduring beneath everyone’s suspicion.

No one crossed the designated boundary.

No one attacked.

On the second day, a Fire Spirit tribesman brought beast meat to the altar as an offering, just as his people had done in previous ceremonies.

Several Thunder Spirit tribespeople arrived later carrying a small jar of wine, placing it at the foot of the altar according to their own customs.

The offerings rested on opposite sides.

At first, several Fire Spirit clansmen were visibly unhappy at the sight of the wine.

But Hoa Can only watched for a while before turning away.

The Thunder Spirit Clan likewise left the beast meat untouched.

For the first time, offerings from both clans stood before the same altar without provoking an argument.

By the third day, the distance between those who visited the altar seemed to have shortened slightly.

No one deliberately began conversations.

But they no longer immediately moved away whenever someone from the other clan approached.

A few people eventually realized they had been standing near their enemies for quite some time without anything happening.

No one mentioned it.

On the fourth day, an argument suddenly broke out just beyond the western boundary.

A Fire Spirit tribesman accused a member of the Thunder Spirit Clan of deliberately stepping beyond the agreed limit.

Words quickly became heated.

Faces reddened with anger.

A man standing guard outside the common area lifted his spear.

Before he could do anything, his companion immediately seized the shaft.

“Seven days.”

Only two words.

The man with the spear looked at his companion.

Anger still covered his face.

But after several breaths, his hand finally loosened.

The spearhead slowly descended.

The Thunder Spirit side also pulled their own people back.

The argument ended without blood being spilled.

On the fifth day, a Fire Spirit child chased a sea butterfly across the open ground.

The child ran quickly, laughing as it went, eyes fixed entirely upon the thin wings fluttering through the sunlight.

When the butterfly crossed the western boundary, the child followed without noticing.

Only a few steps.

But both sides noticed immediately.

A young Thunder Spirit man repairing a fishing net near the western checkpoint sprang to his feet.

By instinct, his hand seized the spear beside him.

The child stopped.

Looked up.

He was too young to understand why the man before him had suddenly become so tense.

When the butterfly disappeared, he even turned his head searching for it, disappointment filling his face.

The young man tightened his grip around the spear.

A long time passed.

Then his fingers slowly loosened.

“Go back to your side.”

The child blinked.

“Oh.”

He turned and ran back, still looking once more in the direction the butterfly had vanished.

A Fire Spirit woman hurried forward and pulled the child into her arms.

She looked up at the Thunder Spirit youth.

Her lips moved slightly.

In the end, she only bowed her head once before leading the child away.

The young man remained standing.

He stared at the spear near his feet for a long time.

Then sat down and resumed repairing his net.

There had been no shouting.

No one was hurt.

But from that day onward, the people standing near the boundary no longer looked at those across from them in quite the same way.

On the sixth day, a Thunder Spirit tribesman was injured while going down to the sea.

He slipped on algae-covered rock.

A sharp edge cut deeply into his arm.

The injury was not life-threatening.

But it bled heavily, and he did not have enough medicine with him.

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An elderly Fire Spirit tribesman nearby witnessed the entire accident.

At first, the old man turned as though he intended to leave.

Then he looked again at the wounded man struggling to bind his arm with cloth.

Eventually, he took a small medicine bottle from his storage pouch.

He walked toward the boundary.

Placed it upon a flat stone.

Then stepped back.

“Take it.”

The Thunder Spirit man looked at him suspiciously.

“Stops bleeding.”

The elder added only that before turning and walking away.

A long time passed before the wounded man crossed over and picked up the bottle.

There was no word of thanks.

No promise to repay it.

But that afternoon, a basket of fresh sea fish appeared on the same stone.

The Fire Spirit elder stood looking at it for a long while.

Then reached down and carried it away.

On the seventh day, the area around the altar no longer contained two rows of people staring tensely at each other.

The flame still burned steadily.

The cluster of Lightning occasionally flickered with tiny arcs.

Lang Tuyet’s formation continued maintaining its balanced rhythm.

Those who came to the stone platform no longer merely stared at the two forces as though observing some strange phenomenon.

An elderly Fire Spirit tribesman knelt quietly before the flame and prayed.

Not far away, a member of the Thunder Spirit Clan bowed his head before the Lightning, lips moving softly.

They did not worship the same god.

They had not accepted each other’s beliefs.

But while standing before the altar, neither demanded that the other leave.

Some prayed for their children.

Some prayed that relatives who had gone fishing would return before nightfall.

Their voices were so quiet that no one else could distinguish the words.

They disappeared into the sea wind passing through the valley.

For seven days, not one person had died by the weapon of the opposing clan.

It sounded simple.

Yet for people who had lived with war through generations, it was so unusual that many did not know how to feel about it.

On the night of the seventh day, Hoa Can and Loi Trach came to the Dwelling together.

This time, neither brought a large group of tribesmen.

Only a few people waited outside.

When they entered the guest room, they still maintained some distance from one another.

But the tension had clearly decreased compared with their first meeting.

Lang Tuyet prepared tea and placed one cup before each of them.

Loi Trach looked at the cup for a moment.

Then picked it up.

Hoa Can did the same.

Hao Nhien looked at the two men and smiled faintly.

“How were the seven days?”

Hoa Can considered.

“Quieter than I expected.”

Loi Trach nodded.

“My people still aren’t used to it.”

He set down his tea.

A complicated expression passed through his eyes.

“But some have started asking why we must fight at all.”

Hoa Can remained silent for a moment.

Then said,

“Yesterday, an old man from my clan brought me a basket of fish and asked whether he could exchange it for some salt.”

Lang Tuyet smiled faintly.

“You agreed?”

“I asked why he needed the salt.”

“He said he wanted to give it to someone on the western side because that person had left him a basket of fish.”

Hoa Can looked toward Loi Trach.

“I asked whether he knew who the person was.”

“He said he had never even asked the man’s name.”

Hoa Can continued looking at him.

“He only knew that was the person who left the fish.”

Loi Trach looked surprised.

Then slowly nodded.

For a while, no one spoke.

Hao Nhien looked at both clan chiefs.

“Do you want to continue the ceasefire?”

Hoa Can and Loi Trach fell silent at the same time.

Finally, Hoa Can spoke.

“I still cannot surrender the altar to the Thunder Spirit Clan.”

“And I cannot tell my people that our ancestral land no longer has anything to do with us,” Loi Trach added.

Hao Nhien nodded.

“I understand.”

Hoa Can looked down at the tea in his hands.

After a while, he continued.

“But the common area…”

“Perhaps it can remain.”

Loi Trach looked up.

“If your people do not prevent ours from approaching the altar, then the Thunder Spirit Clan has no need to continue sending warriors into the valley.”

Lang Tuyet looked at both men.

“Then maintain the current boundary for now.”

“The question of ancestral ownership can be investigated slowly.”

“You do not need to decide it tonight.”

Hoa Can and Loi Trach looked at each other.

This time, neither immediately argued.

Hao Nhien did not press them.

He knew seven days could not erase generations of loss.

But those seven days had allowed both clans to experience a possibility they had almost forgotten existed.

After a long silence, Loi Trach slowly nodded.

“Very well.”

“For now, we continue like this.”

Hoa Can looked at him.

Then nodded as well.

“I agree.”

There was no grand oath.

No alliance ceremony.

The two simply drank another cup of tea.

Then began discussing who would guard each entrance to the common area and how disputes should be handled.

Hao Nhien did not interfere.

Those matters should be decided by them.

Only after the conversation relaxed did he ask,

“How long have your people lived on this island?”

Hoa Can seemed surprised by the change of subject.

“No one knows exactly.”

Loi Trach nodded.

“A very long time.”

“Most of what has been passed down is already incomplete.”

“Were your ancestors originally from this island?”

Loi Trach shook his head.

“According to our ancestors, the Thunder Spirit Clan was not born here.”

Hao Nhien’s eyes shifted.

Lang Tuyet looked up as well.

“Then where did they come from?”

“From the east.”

Loi Trach answered.

“All we know is that our ancestors crossed a very distant stretch of sea from the east before eventually arriving here.”

“But it happened too long ago.”

“No one remembers the route anymore.”

Hoa Can considered before adding,

“The Fire Spirit Clan has a similar legend.”

“The difference is that our ancestors came from the west.”

The room suddenly became quiet.

Hao Nhien looked at the two men.

“One clan from the east.”

“One from the west?”

“Yes.”

“Did anyone ever leave the island afterward?”

Hoa Can nodded slightly.

“Yes.”

“But those events happened many generations ago.”

Loi Trach continued,

“Our clan once sent people to search for a route away.”

“They took ships, food, and sea charts and traveled east, hoping to find the place our ancestors once lived.”

“And?”

“They came back.”

Hao Nhien frowned.

“They couldn’t find the way?”

Loi Trach looked at him.

“No.”

“They went very far.”

“Some spent months at sea.”

“But in the end, they saw this island again.”

Lang Tuyet immediately set down her tea.

“You mean they sailed in a circle and returned?”

“You could say that.”

“What if they changed direction?”

Hoa Can shook his head.

“They tried.”

“More than once.”

He looked toward Hao Nhien.

“Those who sailed east returned.”

“Those who sailed west returned.”

“Even those who deliberately entered dangerous waters eventually found themselves back near the island.”

Lang Tuyet frowned.

She remembered the days when the Cosmic Ark had repeatedly returned to the same stretch of sea before Hao Nhien discovered the hidden current.

But this sounded more complicated.

“No one ever found a way out?”

“There were stories of people who succeeded,” Loi Trach replied.

“But those stories are extremely old.”

“We do not know whether they are true.”

Hao Nhien thought for a while.

“Then why did your clans stop trying?”

Hoa Can did not answer immediately.

He looked through the window.

Far away, small lights still burned throughout the valley.

Occasional voices drifted from the stone houses.

“In the past, most of our strength had to be spent preparing for war.”

“Few people had the experience needed to travel far at sea.”

“Every voyage required food and manpower.”

“And in the end, no one knew whether the people who left would return.”

Loi Trach looked at him.

“The Thunder Spirit Clan was the same.”

A moment later, he added slowly,

“But if we can live peacefully like these past few days…”

“Perhaps remaining here is not necessarily a bad thing.”

Hoa Can turned toward him in surprise.

Loi Trach did not avoid his gaze.

The two looked at each other for a long time.

Eventually, Hoa Can nodded faintly.

“Mm.”

“Perhaps we should think first about how to live.”

“Everything else can come afterward.”

Hao Nhien said nothing.

Seven days could not erase a war that had lasted generations.

But at least the two clan chiefs could now sit in the same room and think about the future rather than only counting the blood debts of the past.

That alone was a significant change.

After Hoa Can and Loi Trach left, Hao Nhien remained beside the stone table in thought.

Lang Tuyet looked at him.

“You’re thinking about the route off the island?”

Hao Nhien nodded.

“If what they said is true, this place may be stranger than we thought.”

He turned toward Little Spirit, who sat on a chair near the door.

“Do you remember coming to this island before?”

The child thought.

“Yes.”

Hao Nhien looked surprised.

“Really?”

“Mm.”

“But don’t remember when.”

“Do you know why people here keep returning no matter how far they sail?”

“Don’t know.”

“Then how did you leave before?”

Little Spirit tilted its head and thought for a long time.

“Went.”

Hao Nhien looked at it.

“I know you went.”

“I’m asking how.”

“Just went.”

Lang Tuyet closed her eyes slightly beside them, clearly trying not to laugh.

Hao Nhien exhaled.

“You know how to come in, but don’t remember how to leave?”

“No.”

Little Spirit shook its head.

“There are places I went before.”

“Interesting.”

“So I went again.”

For a moment, Hao Nhien did not know how to interpret that.

“What is special about this place?”

Little Spirit did not answer immediately.

It held its hands out before itself, keeping them far apart.

“There are two places…”

“Very far.”

Hao Nhien and Lang Tuyet both watched closely.

The child slowly moved its hands toward each other.

“But sometimes…”

The distance continued shrinking.

Until only a narrow space remained between its palms.

“Only one thin layer apart.”

Lang Tuyet frowned slightly.

“You mean the distance between two places can change?”

Little Spirit thought.

“Not exactly.”

It moved its hands apart again.

Then brought them close together.

“Some places are separated by roads.”

“Some places…”

“Separated by state.”

Hao Nhien paused.