Reaper Term Analysis

Do you accept these people as your own?

Will you use your strength to protect them at all cost?

The burden of her questions expands in my chest as I look to the Reapers gathered around Mâzeli. Bimpe watches with fingers pressed to her lips. Màri frantically waves her hand, almost immune to the gravity of the moment. Though I’ve only known them for a few hours, they already feel like blood. Like home. Being around them feels more right than anything has felt in years.

Even before Mother interrupted my rally, the support of the Orïshans didn’t touch the boundless joy of these maji. I wonder what it would be like to be embraced like that. To actually have a place where you belong.

[...]

I nod, beginning to understand what it means to be an elder. All this time I assumed it was like occupying the throne, but now I realize that it’s so much more. It isn’t simply a position of power. An elder forms the foundation of their clan’s home.

I feel the most sacred gift of Oya beneath my hands, the holy magic of life and death. When the last body breathes again, I stare at the glowing tattoos on my hands.

No Reaper or Healer in history has ever been able to do that.

In our magic, I see the answer. What Oya wanted me to understand all along. If we use the moonstone to bind our lifeforces, we can save the maji from the monarchy’s grasp.