The songs said that although The People walked this land alone, this was not their home, and they should treat it as guests.
And so they did. The songs stretched back many many seasons, and told of great, albeit tiny, spirits that brought them here from their home. For many seasons The People did as the spirits demanded, never asking 'why', for that was not their way.
Then, one day the spirits left, never to return. But The People continued as though they would, and tended the land as good stewards should.
Then, many seasons ago, lights again appeared in the sky. The People went to the chosen place, and waited, but no spirits came. In time, though, other people came. These were not spirits, though they had some of the spirits' trappings. These were just people. They did not ask anything of The People except stories, which they were happy to share.
On hearing the stories, the visitors said they would leave, but would return here once every hand of seasons. And if anyone wished to leave with them, they could.
As these were not the spirits, it was rare that any would choose to leave, for a steward does not abandon their duty. Still, every once in a while one would choose to leave.
Sometimes those who left would return. Sometimes they would not. Of those who returned, some returned quickly - even as soon as a single night - while others might not return until they were old.
Once, one returned with word that they had seen the Ancestors lands, and even brought a handful of it back with them - with the blessings of The People there. But it was not their land any more, not in any way that they would recognise it. But their People were still upon it, and still told the oldest of stories and sang the oldest of songs. Songs that they still sang here.
And so the stewards continued to do their works, and preserved the lands in case the spirits returned.
And in the sky the visitors also watched and waited. For they knew that the ancient peoples who had brought The People to this world were as ashes. But even ashes can burn anew, and harm the unwary.
(she/her) 
