Under the Mother Tree

Posted on Fri Dec 26th, 2025 @ 12:52pm by Emery Tyris-McEntyre & Commander Gil’an Tyris
Edited on on Fri Dec 26th, 2025 @ 12:57pm

784 words; about a 4 minute read

Mission: Prologue
Location: Ba'ku Planet, on the village outskirts
Timeline: Early autumn, 2388

Ba'ku spirituality is quiet by design. It is not a faith of priests, temples, ranks or proclamations, but of attention-of learning to listen to time, to growth, and to ones place within a living pattern. The Ba'ku do not believe the wisdom is something to be taught; rather, it is recognized when it appears. Their rituals are therefore never scheduled. They occur when life itself pauses long enough to be heard.

One such rite is The Leaf Naming.

It is not a christening, nor a title, nor a bow that was binding in any way. Instead it is a moment of clarity and recognition, offered only when the Elders sense that an individual's nature has become briefly visible-like a leaf catching the light at just the right angle. Some Ba'ku live their entire lives without The Leaf Naming. Others are Named more than once, as growth reshapes them time and time again.

Children are rarely Named. Which is how Gil Tyris knew, the moment Emery stopped fidgeting, that something unusual was unfolding. They had gone walking after breakfast along the terraces near the grasslands, Emery darting ahead barefoot, tail swishing as he investigated stones, insects, and anything that looked remotely climbable. Gil was mid-sentence-explaining, gently and unconvincingly, why rivers were not suitable opponents for racing-when Emery slowed.

Not distracted. Not bored. Listening.

Emery stood before an aged tree whose roots had long since claimed the path as their own. His ears were forward. His tail curled loosely around his left ankle. When he spoke, his voice was quiet in the way it only ever was when he felt something important.

"Papa," he said. "This tree feels...big."

Gil exhaled a long breath through his nose, not speaking for what seemed like hours. "It does," he agreed.

They were not alone. A small group of Ba'ku Elders sat nearby, arranged casually enough that it looked accidental-until one noticed how precisely the space beneath the tree had been left open. One of them, Elder Saana, smiled at the boy.

"You walk with an unshielded heart," she said, extending an open palm toward Emery. "Will you stand with us a while?"

Emery glanced upward at Gil, searching his face. Gil knew immediately. "The choice is yours," he said before Emery could worry. "You are being invited."

That was all Emery needed. They stepped beneath the tree together, Gil's hand loosely holding Emery's-not guiding or restraining the boy, simply being present. The Elders observed without judgement. They watched how Emery leaned toward his father and then straightened, determined to stand on his own. How Gil allowed that, without withdrawing his support. How the child's tail brushed his father's leg, anchoring him without quite realizing it.

At last, Elder Saana rose, holding two leaves. She knelt before Emery first. "Child, do you know why trees grow leaves?"

""To catch the sunlight," Emery answered without hesitation.

"And to practice letting go," the Elder added gently. She passed one of the leaves to Emery; it was elliptical in shape, coming to a tapered point at both ends and colored in a vivid green. "You are Brightstep Leaf-for a spirit that moves before fear teaches caution, that learns by touching the world rather than waiting for it to explain itself."

Emery accepted the leaf wordlessly, his ears flicking as if he understood that something real had been seen.

The Elder turned toward Gil. "You have been named before," she said. "But leaves may be named again." She passed the remaining leaf to Gil. It was longer, almost blade shaped and colored a dusky orange. "You are Steady Rootleaf-one who has learned how to anchor without holding fast, who knows when to support and when to stand aside." Elder Saana stood, placing one hand on Gil's shoulder and one on the child's. "You are named as leaves of the same branch: one teaching motion, the other teaching patience. Both learning as the wind changes."

There was no applause, no recognition of a formal ending. Elder Saana simply returned to her previous seated position among the other Elders, the moment complete.

Later, long after the gathering had quietly dispersed, Emery leaned back against Gil's leg and whispered, "Papa? I got a good one."

Gil rested a hand on his son's shoulder. "You did, son. I am very proud of how you conducted yourself."

A solitary leaf fell from the canopy above and landed near Emery's toes. The boy didn't pick it up. he didn't need to. Because some names, like some moments, are not meant to be carried-only lived.


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Commander Gil Tyris
Chief Science Officer
USS Guinevere

Emery Tyris-McEntyre
Seven Year Old Child
USS Guinevere

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