Chapter Text
Granny Itztli is the feared shaman of her tribe. No one can surpass her, no one can hope to make friends with her, no one can hope to connect with her even on a friendly basis.
She's tough on everyone. From fellow shamans, to inexperienced students, to even the children of the tribe. With how harsh she was to others, it was near impossible to find a soft side to her, and everyone who still try to remain by her side were seen as bordering the line of stupidity and bravery (Claw was of course the exception; no one in the tribe would dare to question his authority now that he's a respected elder. Citlali wished he would just stop with his worry for her, for both of their sakes).
When little Ororon survived the ceremony that would have ended his life before it begun, the tribe was wracked with guilt for what they've almost done even if it was for a higher cause. Citlali, although she never showed it, felt this same guilt too for not speaking up, for nearly allowing an innocent child to be sacrificed.
And so, even when she knows it will inevitably lead to more hurt for her, Citlali did everything she can for Ororon. To see him overcome his fragmented soul, to see him live the life he deserves to live, to see she at least did one thing right in her long lived life, it had become a new goal for her when she seemed to have lost all purpose other than living out her days one at a time.
It was a plus that Ororon doesn't seem to be as afraid of her as the other children of their tribe. He follows through with the lessons with earnest curiosity, even when he doesn't succeed at the things she assigned him to do. A good kid he is, though a little strange and unorthodox at times.
Occasionally, Ororon would stay at her place, as nobody in the tribe could decide where he should stay after failing to locate his birth parents, so he just jumped between the various tribe members' homes, something he didn't mind as he respected everyone equally. When it's Citlali's turn to watch over him, she would make sure to hide the bottles and ensure they were out of her reach; she even went through with preparing the guest room she had long since abandoned for him.
All in all, it wasn't unusual for Ororon to come over to her home, even in the dead of night when the tribe is either practicing rituals or heading off to bed. Citlali will refuse to ever admit her surprise at seeing the young boy at her doorstep, holding onto a small duffel bag and looking up at her with those innocent eyes (the eyes that weren't suppose to open again should that ceremony have gone off without a hitch) and ask, after Citlali scolds him for being all the way out in the wilderness by himself;
"I'm sorry Granny, but I feel like sleeping here tonight. Can I?"
The first time it happened, Citlali felt like pinching herself to see if she was still asleep and that this was just a very realistic dream she's having. It wasn't. She then sighed as she held the door open for Ororon to come in, all the while nagging him for his poor timed decisions and how by morning she'll escort him back to the tribe so the chief can take care of him.
Of course, the lesson never sticked with Ororon. But at least he now has the sense to come at the earlier hours of evening to stay over and after asking permission from the current person taking care of him in the rotation.
Nowadays, it's become something that Citlali has gotten used to, like with the various things that have become the only constants in her life. It's honestly terrifying how much little Ororon has managed to slip into her heart, even if it was by her own volition.
Tonight was one of those nights where Ororon was coming over to stay for the night. Thankfully he decided to inform her on this decision in advance, which allowed her time to prepare for his arrival; making sure his bed was soft and comfy, cleaning up his room, and making some dinner for him before giving him some homework to try out before he can go to bed for the night. This was the routine they long since established ever since Ororon showed up at her doorstep in the middle of the night for the first time, something Citlali has memorized like it was the plot twist of the century.
Tonight however, it seemed she would be the one in for a plot twist. She wondered what foreshadowing there had been for this turn of events to occur when she first stumbled into it.
It all started out like normal. Citlali had finished making dinner and was waiting for Ororon to arrive with a tribe elder as his escort. When this routine was first established, she made it very clear to Ororon that he is to be punctual when he wants to stay over for the night, something he's become very good at these days.
Tonight however, he did not show up at the designated time he set for her to expect his arrival.
Perhaps that was the first hint Citlali had as to the future events that were about to unfold, ones that would once again shape her life in a way she would not expect.
The second hint she had was that it had been so long that the food had gone cold. By that time, Citlali was beginning to grow furious.
The third hint was the frantic knocking on the door when ten more minutes had passed. When that happened, Citlali got up from the dining table and ran over to yank her front door open, ready to give Ororon a worthy scolding for being late.
"Ororon! Where have you-"
Then, she paused when she saw who he was with.
Ororon was by himself, no tribe member by his side. Instead, he was with...a child.
The little one seemed to shrink behind him with how small he was compared to her grandson, so much that Citlali would have missed him if it weren't for the little bit of his head poking out from Ororon's back.
"Hi Granny." Ororon mutters as he looks at the child hiding behind him. "Sorry for being late. I just...it's a long story."
Citlali looks down at the children, her gaze locking with the kid hiding behind Ororon. In response, the child hid further behind him, almost as if he wanted to disappear into Ororon's little ragged hood.
Ororon himself locks eyes directly with her.
"Please Granny, don't be too harsh with him. He's scared. So scared."
"Scared?"
Citlali's first thought was to assume that the cause of that fear was herself. After all, she essentially has horror stories of herself being told in the tribe by those who got on her bad side, and even those who have never seen her mad in their whole lives.
The kid decided to take a peek from his hiding spot, and for the first time, Citlali sees his eyes, wide and...dull. There was some light in there, but it was weak in comparison to how tired those eyes look. And how tired the kid looks in general.
"Yes, scared." Ororon responds, his eyes full of light. "So please be gentle with him."
"Where are his parents?" Citlali asks. "He looks like he's from the Scions of the Canopy, and they're a ways away from the Masters of the Night Wind. Why is your first instinct to bring him to me and not the tribe to send a message to his parents?"
The kid hid even further behind Ororon at the mention of his parents, now fully hiding beneath his cloak. This did not go unnoticed by Citlali, and it admittedly made her feel just a tiny bit of guilt, seeing as how his reaction immediately set off alarm bells in her mind at the many possibilities for how his home life really is. No kid should ever have to fear their parents.
Ororon also seemed to have noticed the reaction the kid had in regards to her words. "He didn't say. He just told me he wanted a place to stay for a while, so I thought that your place would be the best to do so Granny. So please, can he stay here?"
Citlali thinks back to the ceremony the tribe performed long ago, the one where Ororon would have been sacrificed if he didn't miraculously survived that night. She thinks back to how she didn't say anything to stop the ceremony for all her influence and power she has for being a legendary shaman amongst them. And how her inaction nearly costed the life of an innocent young boy who she has taken to calling her grandson as if it could ease the pain of guilt and shame she still feels all those years ago.
The situation here isn't the same. But the choice here is similar in ways that she cannot decipher just yet.
It would be unnecessarily cruel of her to turn away a child in need. And besides, her grandson is staying the night anyways.
"Come on in. Both of you get a shower first before dinner. I need time to reheat it."
-
The kid only had the clothes on his back, but luckily for him Ororon made sure to pack an extra set of pyjamas in the event he needs to stay for one more night with Citlali. He also refused to take off his headscarf even on a temporary basis. Citlali was thankful that the headscarf didn't accumulate any dirt particles, as she would rather not wash the bedsheets.
Ororon didn't have a big appetite, so the dinner she prepared was light and in small portions. But upon seeing the kid enter her home and detached himself from Ororon for the first time since seeing him, she noticed just how skinny he looked, far too skinny for a kid his age should be. It only reinforces the horrible possibilities she has in her mind about his home life. No kid should have bones for muscle.
So, in the time the children spent bathing, Citlali used that time to work on preparing extra dishes. Ones that are high in protein but easy on the stomach. She prepared some fresh fruits she had lying around and put them into a fruit bowl, and grabbed the orange juice she had placed back in the fridge a while ago and poured it into two cups, leaving the pitcher on the table in the event the kids want more.
As Citlali was plating up the meat dish she prepared, she heard tiny footsteps approach the kitchen. She didn't bother turning around, already knowing by heart that these footsteps belonged to Ororon.
"Granny? What are you doing?"
"Making more food for you rascals, that's what." Citlali huffs. "Your new friend there looks like his bones are sticking straight out of his skin."
"That's a good idea Granny." Ororon says, most certainly now looking at the dish she's prepared. "He was really hungry when I found him."
"Hah, then he'd better finish all the food I made." Citlali responds as she goes over to the dining table and places the meat dish down alongside the other assortments of dishes. "I'm going to have a word with whoever is raising him if they bother to show their face here."
"I don't think he wants to go home, Granny." Ororon says out of the blue, causing Citlali to turn around and look at him with an inquisitive look.
"Huh?"
"When I first found him, he was trying to set up a camp using leaves, twigs, sticks. At first I thought he was setting up a campfire to act as a signal, but the way he was going about things made me realize it wasn't just a campfire. Then when I asked him about his parents, he froze up and stopped answering any of my questions, only responding when I offered him a place to stay at your home for shelter."
Citlali grimaces. This was looking less and less in the favor of whoever this kid's parents are. She was seriously going to have a talk with them the moment she gets ahold of them.
"Did you get his name?" She asks to conceal her bubbling rage as it began rising to the surface.
"No, Granny. He didn't tell me." Ororon says.
"Well isn't that just great." Citlali sighs.
The kid eventually comes out of the shower in Ororon's pyjamas, the purple color that is reminiscent of the Masters of the Night Wind's special graffiti arts blending strangely well with his dark green hair. He looks at the food laid out on the table, hunger present in his eyes. But he doesn't go towards the dinner table right away, instead looking at Citlali with those same eyes that are now filled with uncertainty and distrust.
"No need to be scared, kid. You can eat to your heart's content. Why else did you think I made extra?"
The kid looks at the food, then back at Citlali, and then at Ororon who, upon noticing this, went over to the dining table and sat down on the cushion provided, slowly but diligently eating some grainfruit wraps he picked onto his plate. He looks up and nods towards the kid, beckoning him over to eat.
He eventually does just that, sitting down on the cushion next to Ororon and grabs a small bit of the meat dish Citlali cooked earlier, slowly putting it into his mouth and chewing.
After that, the kid began to eat more, slowly but surely. His eyes appeared mostly blank, but she can clearly tell that they were full of joy as he ate and ate to his heart's content like she said.
She supposed that the kid's appetite somehow managed to get to Ororon as well as he was noticeably eating a lot more than he usually would for meals, and by the time the two were done, there was barely any remains left.
The children retreated to the guest room that has a few more pillows shaped and styled like Citlalin as Citlali got to work on washing the dishes, letting her thoughts wander as she did this mundane task.
She can't let that kid stay under her roof forever, that was a given. But with the little evidence she has of his home life and that he has no desire of returning, what else is there can she do with him?
She supposed she could try and find someone in the tribe to take him in for a while, or just return him to the chief of the Scions of the Canopy to decide what to do from there, those were the practical and logical decisions to make.
But something inside her didn't agree with either of these decisions. Something that feels eerily similar to the feeling she felt when taking Ororon in as her grandson.
And that terrified her.
This feeling stuck with her even as she finished washing the dishes and made sure the children were asleep and Ororon's homework was completed before going to bed herself.