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Chapter Text

-Neteyam!

-Get him here!

-Watch his neck!

-Come on!

Jake runs towards the shore where Lo’ak and Tsireya are lifting his oldest son. Neteyam's body moves in the water in horrible ways, in turns all limp and following the movements of water like a sea anemone, in turns convulsing and arching in rhythm of Neteyam's coughs and desperate, wheezing breaths. Neteyam's upper body has barely touched the solid ground when his chest is coloured in bright red.

-Neteyam, son!

Jake kneels beside his oldest, stroking his salty-wet hair, palming his cheek. Neteyam lays his eyes closed, panting and wheezing horribly, clenching his teeth against the pain. The shot wound is terribly close to his heart.

-Dad…

-Here, Neteyam, I'm here.

Jake braces himself and turns Neteyam onto his side, checking his back quickly. No exit wound. He closes his eyes for a second, deciding to concentrate on the fact that his oldest isn't going to bleed out during the next few minutes and ponder all the horrible details later.

Lo'ak sits on the other side of his older brother, all pale and quiet. In shock. He needs something to do, Jake realizes.

-Press the wound, he orders, and Lo'ak immediately snaps out of his stupor, laying his hands on his brother’s heaving chest. -Hold it.

-Dad, I…

Neteyam's eyes are pained, confused. He struggles to concentrate over his pain. Jake's heart clenches. His brave son, trying so much even in a situation like this.

-Shh, it's okay, Neteyam. It's okay.

-I wanna go home.

No, Jake's brain shouts, and he struggles to keep his voice from breaking altogether. No, my Neteyam. Not my son. Great Mother, no.

-Shh, just rest now, okay? Just breathe. Keep breathing.

Enormous wings flap through the air, and Neytiri jumps and runs, crouching behind Jake in a heartbeat.

-No, no no no, she moans. -Neteyam...

-The bullet’s not through, Jake says to his mate, his eyes glued on his son. Neteyam's eyes are closed now, his eyelids horribly gray, and he draws the quick wheezes of breath in one by one, every single one of them a struggle that arches his back and makes his face crumble.

-He might have a chance. But we need to be quick.

There’s a soft shifting behind Jake's back, and he hears Tsireya’s careful voice.

-I could call for my mom, she suggests gingerly. -Her ilu is the quickest of all, and she knows how to ride unnoticed.

Jack looks at the girl. In spite of her fragility, she seems determined and strong.

-Do it.

Tsireya nods decisively, turning and jumping into the waves without as much as a blink. Jake turns to his younger son, about to ask him what's going on, when Neteyam convulses under his hands.

-Dad…

Nereyam's face is crumbled in grimace, his lips quivering, and his eyes are showing whites. Jake takes him quickly into his arms, holding him upright.

-Neteyam, breathe, he urges. -Stay with me. Stay with us!

-Neteyam! Both Neytiri and Lo'ak call in desperation, and Neteyam twitches his head to the side, his breathing easing for a second.

That’s a sign Jake catches like a straw.

-Neytiri, help me, he says quickly. -Take his neck. We'll lift him upright. Lo'ak, keep pressing the wound.

They start to work, each of them struggling to stand Neteyam’s weak, raspy croaks of pain and agony. As soon as Neteyam is up, Jake wraps his arms around him, pressing his son's heaving and twitching body against his own chest, when Neytiri lays their son's head to rest on his father's shoulder.

-Shh, it's okay, he hums into Neteyam's ear. -I've got you, son. I've got you.

Jack senses his mate right beside him, humming the cord song and stroking their oldest’s arms up and down with soft, calming movements. Lo'ak sits right in front of him, his both hands pressed tight on his brother's chest. He closes his eyes, feeling every single one of Neteyam's agonized wheezes of breath, his soft whimpers as he tries to keep on, to follow his father’s orders.

-Good son, Jake hums. -Good boy, Neteyam. Dad's here. We're all here.

All he can do is pray, pray that the Great Mother isn't welcoming his son yet.

---

There is always the final bead in the songcord.

For this song, it wasn't Neteyam's death.

It was the end of the war in the sea, and my son lived.

Ronal came, and she took care of my son like one of her own. One couldn’t be called a mother if they left a child without the help they were able to provide, she said. Ronal packed Neteyam's wound with something reminding a sponge, bandaged it with seaweed and bind it with seagrass.

Tsireya fetched Neteyam a gill mantle that would be the best shot for him to breathe under the water with his compromised lungs, and then they disappeared under the surface of the sea.

When I and Neytiri turned away from him, that was the hardest thing I ever could have thought of doing.

—

After the fight, in spite of our joy over us all being free and unscatched, the journey home was silent. We rode close to each other, Neytiri pressing Tuk tightly against her chest like when our daughter was a baby, and Tuk made no sound of objection. Lo'ak and Kiri rode together, and I stayed back, keeping them all in my sight all our trip. I wouldn’t lose any of my family members, no more - that was the only thought drumming through my mind.

Thinking of what was awaiting us back home was too painful to let through.

—

The shore was all empty looking when we approached the Metkayina village, but when we rode closer, we saw that Tonowari and Tsireya were standing on the waterline. The waiting electrocuted us all. I saw Neytiri draw up on her stall, and I knew she was bracing herself for what was to come.

I couldn't think — my mind was void from words, an empty, echoing cave of darkness.

Tonowari scurried to us, nodding solemnly to Neytiri and clasping my upper arm. I noticed the touch, but barely felt it.

-Come, Tonowari said. -My mate has your son.

We half ran to Tonowari’s family dwelling, and there, in one of the resting areas, I saw my firstborn son. Neytiri was right beside me, and she let out a tiny, asphyxiated whimper at what we saw, covering her mouth with her hand.

I put my arm around her, and she didn’t pull away like earlier on the reef. I concentrated on feeling her close to me, on providing her comfort in my proximity. I couldn't approach what I felt in seeing my son over there. It was too huge, like a tsunami waiting to crash to the shore, and I didn’t want to drown. I couldn't let myself drown.

My family needed me strong.

Neteyam looked close to death, lying on the top of bed roll and some blankets. He had some kind of pillows arranged under his head so that his upper body was inclined. His skin was glistening with sweat although he looked so pale, and he shuddered slightly with every weak breath he took.

Ronal was right beside him, on her knees, crouching above him. Her eyes were closed and she held her hands lightly on Neteyam’s chest, humming softly and whispering soft words every now and then.

Tonowari nodded to the side, and we took his initiative and followed him out of the dwelling.

-Ronal has called for her sister, he said. -She will come as soon as she can, to help Ronal in her task. She is an accomplished Tsahik as Ronal is.

Neytiri took a careful gasp of breath, soft and wet, but said nothing. I could see all her being pulsing with anxious urge to go closer instead of further, to be the mother she was. I reached my hand, and she took it.

-What are they doing with him? I asked. My voice was unfamiliar to me. It wasn't the voice of olo'eyktan, head of his family, a father and a spouse. It was the voice of a person who had had it all and suddenly, in one blink of an eye, had nothing of that left.

In the morning, I was a proud father of the best son I could imagine. Strong, yet sensitive, a perfect future clan leader. Protective oldest brother. So deeply loved by all of us. Now, I struggled on the brink of losing it all.

Neytiri turned towards me, looked at me with horrified eyes. Even from the depths of my despair, I suddenly realized what I had done. For Na'vi, Tsahik was untouchable, and asking questions about their work was something they would never do.

I lowered my eyes, but Tonowari shook his head. -She is supporting his life force with her own, he said softly. -To give him strength to fight against the injury. When he is strong enough to stand the journey, we will take him to the Spirit Tree.

I saw Neytiri's eyes lighten up as she looked at the Metkayina chieftain. -To Eywa? She whispered.

Tonowari nodded, a tiny, sad smile appearing on his lips. -Yes, he said. -His life rests in Eywa's will.

Chapter Text

Hearing the words of Metkayina chieftain made a significant change in Neytiri. The nervous, explosive energy I had sensed in her since we left our oldest son in the hands of others, leading us to a battle ourselves, seemed all pour out of her like a spring stream down from a mountain to a sea. What was left was something brittle, something I had never seen in her before.

When her father and brother, former olo’eyktan, had died, she directed her grief outwards. It was like a flash of thunder, similarly explosive and total. Now, she stayed all still, all silent, only her eyes grieving.

It took three days and three nights before we were let closer to our son. I couldn't see any change in him, but both Ronal and Neytiri did, and I chose to trust in them.

After five days, we decided to take turns sitting on Neteyam's side. Our other children needed us as well.

I was alone with my firstborn, only Ronal's sister Rohit staying close, when I saw the first sign of life in him. Rohit had just a minute ago changed Neteyam's bandages and was giving him a second of breather from the energy transform. I held onto his hand, squeezing and rubbing it in turns, hoping that the stimulation would bring him back to me.

And then, all unexpectedly, Neteyam's brow crumbled. Just slightly, a tiny twitch that I would have missed should I have blinked right at that time. I froze, vehemently trying to reboot my brain to know how to react, when his fingers curled inside my hand, loosening as quickly.

Now my brain got the memo.

-Rohit! I panted, crouching closer to my son's face. -Neteyam?

I was yanked quite forcefully aside, and the whirlwind of protectivity, concern and rage shot through me. When I could see again from the stars that filled my sight for a second, I saw the Tipani Tsahik crouching over my son, her hands on my son's chest and arm, speaking shushingly the words I couldn't recognize.

Rohit was married to the Tipani clan at a young age, Tonowari had told me earlier. Tipanis were fierce hunters and warriors, and as their Tsahik, Rohit knew everything there generally was for a Na'vi to know about penetrative wounds. Gunshot wounds were not something Na'vi could routinely treat, but amongst them, Tipani had the greatest amount of violent human contacts and this way the best knowledge.

-I need to change the sponge, Rohit said, and her sharp tone returned me from my thoughts.

I saw that she had undone the bandages, and Neteyam's wound was open, slowly trickling with blood and some clear fluid around the stitches Rohit had done. I never considered myself squeamish, but seeing that on my own child, I suddenly couldn't stand it. I turned away, closing my eyes that felt hot and blurry.

-Stay with him, hold him still while I fetch the new sponge.

Rohit's voice was matter of fact, but her eyes were warm and empathetic when I opened my own to see her.

-He shouldn't rip the stitches.

I nodded, and she disappeared to the corner she had her things on, out of the way.

Neteyam shifted weakly, and with that I found my center of concentration. I took my hand on his shoulder, my other taking his hand inside my own.

-Shh, dad’s here, I whispered, then struggled to get my voice louder, to get it carried from me through to him. -Dad's here, Neteyam. Lay still. Don’t move.

Neteyam turned his head weakly, a soft whimper quivering his lips. He was in pain. This was too much. The pain I knew, both physical and emotional, quite closely even. But when it came to me this way, radiating from my own child. It broke me to pieces.

-It's okay, I said brokenly, trying to ground my son with my touch. -It's okay, son.

His eyes squeezed with a grimace, and then the horrible, shallow wheezing started again. I barely heard Rohit's light steps behind me, but this time I let her shove me aside, rage and protectiveness casted aside and all consuming numbness coming instead.

I knew there was nothing I could do to save my firstborn. His life was dependent on the good will of a stranger.

—

In the evening, it was Neytiri's turn to stay with our firstborn. She came with Tuktirey, our youngest. Tuk looked a bit anxious, and I glanced at Neytiri who looked back at me with a self confidence only an Omaticaya tsakarem could possess. I really hoped that she felt how she looked like.

We had had a fight over this the day before. I felt Tuk was too young to see his brother in this bad shape, but Neytiri was adamant. Amongst Na'vi, no-one is kept away if someone in the family is ill, she told me. She wouldn't understand why I thought a shotgun wound was different from an illness.

So I left them, trying to find a slight relief on the fact that Neteyam was unconscious again, his face calm and beautiful, looking like sleeping. For the first time during these days, I found myself hoping that Neteyam wouldn’t wake up while his little sister was with him.

-Dad!

Tuktirey barged to hug me with all of her might, and an almost instinctive, gentle chuckle escaped under my lips. I hugged her back and knelt down in front of him.

-Baby girl.

She rushed again to cuddle me, and I wrapped her in my arms, pecking a soft kiss on the top of her head.

-I'm afraid, she confessed, after a while of silence, her lithe form pressed against my chest.

-It's okay, I whispered to her. -Your mother is with you all the time, and Rohit is a very good healer.

Tuk lifted her enormous ember eyes into mine, and I was screwed. -Come with us?

-I would, baby girl. But I need to find your brother and sister. It's not nice to leave them alone right now, is it?

Tuk nodded thoughtfully and let me go. I smiled at her, I hugged my wife, and then I left the chieftain’s home.

Tuk couldn't tell me where my oldest daughter and youngest son were, so I took my leave towards the place I had last found Kiri daydreaming. Lo'ak might be somewhere on the sea with Payakan, so I needed to meet my both children separately in any case.

I found Kiri’s seagrass robe from the platform near the airbells, laid my feet to the water for her to see and settled to wait.

She came after a while, a dreamy smile on her lips and drops of seawater glistening in her eyelashes. She seemed to find such peace on her lone journeys in nature - earlier in the forest, today under the sea - that sometimes I felt envious of her.

-Pa, she greeted me and the beautiful serenity in her eyes died, a hollow anxiety coming instead. She took my hand and let me help her to the platform. She sat as close to me as she could. -How's Neteyam?

-Mother and Tuk are with him now, I told her, and she nodded. Nothing new to tell, nothing we could do - nothing but making sure none of us were alone.

-How are you, my girl?

Kiri lowered her eyes, but I saw the tears in them. She looked at her lap, kicking her legs and wriggling her toes slowly in the water. Then she turned to look at me, a transparent film covering her eyes and making them shine in all the colors of the rainbow.

-Neteyam's leaving us, isn't he? She whispered, her voice simultaneously broken and strong, stating.

I looked at her, rendered silent by her maturity.

—

In the evening, when all had retreated into their dwellings and all the village was silent, I walked far into the shoreline, to a place where the village is almost not to be seen. I rummaged through the sack I had with me until I found the ear piece I had kept in contact with Norm and Max the time we needed a doctor for Kiri.

The monitor died soon after the skirmish in Three Brothers, and I didn’t know how to fix it. I didn’t even know if it was out cold because of dead batteries, contact with the sea water or the fact that something had happened to Norm and Max. I had just one way to know, and it wasn’t possible in Metkayina village.

I had pondered about calling my toruk and flying back to Omaticaya for some time now - the fear of my son dying meanwhile was the only thing holding me back. I knew Neytiri would have been against the idea. She didn’t trust humans half as much as she trusted the healers of her own kind. On some level, I could even understand that.

I turned the piece around in my hands, trying to do what I knew with it for the … I didn’t even know how many times.

And I knew that it wasn't Eywa's way to get involved in these kinds of things, but still, I prayed for my son.

Chapter Text

I needed to leave.

Neytiri saw it — after a night of first yelling at me and then following with a silent treatment, but she did.

We both could see our oldest grow more tired, more confused, every minute of the day. He was a Na’vi, and thanks to Eywa, his stronger body and spirit he had inherited from his mother’s side, a long line of healthy warriors, he had the strength he wouldn’t have if he was genetically a human like me. His blood reserves were bigger, his ability to stand the strain his wound inflicted to him greater than mine would ever be.

As a human, he would be dead by now. As a Na’vi, he still had a chance.

When I went to tell him goodbye, he was tired and confused, but his eyes found mine, and I could see that he saw and recognized me. His hand was limp in mine as I took it and squeezed it gently, and his eyes were misty and pooling with tears I couldn’t gauge the source of.

-I need to go, Neteyam, I explained him gently. -I need to find Max and Norm. Remember how they rescued Kiri with Ronal? Now, we have both Ronal and Rohit, and with their skills together with Max and Norm’s you’ll be better in no time.

I didn’t feel half as confident as I tried to sound. Luckily Neteyam’s concentration wasn’t sharp enough to gauge the subtle undertones in my voice. If I were honest, I wondered how much of my words he could understand at all in the middle of his struggle to draw in ragged breaths and keep his eyes on mine. Soon, I stopped speaking, settling to communicate with the ways I knew he could acknowledge.

Touch. Eye contact. Smile.

Neteyam blinked, his sight growing blurry all the time quicker, but determinately coming back to me. His hand twitched inside mine, and I stroked it slowly, trying to include everything I felt for my son, everything I wanted to say to him, into the touch that felt too small.

His mouth corners twitched, and he gasped for breath as his lips parted.

-Dad, he sighed, his voice barely audible. -Cold.

I turned around, looking for a blanket Ronal had left close. I tucked my son in, fussing with the thing longer than probably was needed.

Sweat. Cold. My son was in shock. I had no idea how long a Na'vi could stand the shock. I hoped forever, or at least as long as it would take from me to get back with help.

-I’ll come back as soon as I can, ‘Teyam, I whispered as I leant in to kiss his forehead. -Promise.

Farewells with the others were quick and few – Tonowari and his family, some other Metkayina warriors I had ridden with in the Skirmish and gained their trust and friendship. Neytiri came with hollow eyes, pressing close to me with her eyes closing, her nose softly touching mine.

-Strong heart, I reminded her as we parted. -I need you here. More than ever.

On my way towards the shore to call my toruk, I peeked into chieftain’s dwelling to see my son once more. He was laying there, silent as always, but this time he had her sister with him. Kiri was laying on her side beside her brother, her arms hugging Neteyam close, her body trying to keep him warm.

—

The wind was cold as I rode towards Omatikaya village. It whipped me and my toruk mercilessly, like it wanted to stop me, tell me that my attempt was crazy and doomed. Neteyam’s face staying in front of mine all the time was what demanded me forward. First it was begging me to save him but as the hours turned to days and nights without a moment of rest, the face started to contort inside my mind, asking me if I had lost my mind.

I struggled as hard against the physical hindrance as the demons inside my mind. I knew my toruk was easily able to fly without any rest for days, so I leant on her strength when my own waned. I ignored my own need to rest, my guts screaming of hunger, all for my son who I knew had no time to spare.

I had no idea where the stricken RDA recoms had fled after the skirmish but I felt incredibly lucky not to meet any of them. When I left the Metkayina, I had not spared one thought to the possibility of villains lurking somewhere, but it was a cold fact that meeting them would be the end of me and, consequently, my firstborn.

My toruk flew us to the Soul tree, landing gracefully, but I barely could get down on my feet without stomping straight to the ground. As my knees hit the ground, I let the rest of my body follow, unable to hold myself up.

I had laid on the ground, my face towards the under weed, for an indefinite time, until I heard the soft rustling of steps. I could turn my head so that I saw the blue feet in sandals.

My last thought was that I had no way to fight them no matter how much I wanted to.

—

-We are the only ones left here, Toruk Makto, Ka'ani said, handing me a bowl of steamingly hot food. -Olo'yektan and Tsahik led our people to safety, to a secret place. Soon after you left, this place became too dangerous to stay with the families.

I bowed at him slightly, taking the bowl into my hands. They trembled, all the strength suddenly disappeared, and Ka'ani took it quickly back.

-You are still tired, Toruk Makto, he stated and arranged the mount of pillows in the head of a sleeping mat, waving for me to lay back down. -Rest. Let me help you. Your ride wasn't easy.

He didn't pay attention to my attempts to wipe it all away, and finally I succumbed to the pull of my exhausted body and mind.

-My son needs help, I murmured with my last resort of strength.

-I'll take care of it, Toruk Makto, Ka'ani spoke soothingly. -Everything will be ready when you have had your rest.

–

Kiri woke up, blinking the sleep from her eyes and seeing her brother right beside her. It all came back with an enormous, paralyzing heap of emotions and memories — the war ship, the skirmish, the fear for her family almost drowning, the silent ride back to Metkayinas, Neteyam pale and bloody on a sleeping mat. Kiri took a shuddering breath, quickly banishing the thoughts and raising her body with her arms.

Neteyam hadn't left a sound since he had fallen unconscious after dad's leave.

Kiri shuddered in sudden cold, wrapped the blanket from the mat around herself and pressed against Neteyam's still form, hugging him gently against herself. 

-Don't you dare to die, she whispered softly, through the tears. -How will I stand Lo'ak and Spider if you aren't here keeping them in check with me?

Neteyam didn't answer, didn't even twitch. His heart beat under his clammy skin, quick and thready, and Kiri laid her head on it, her ear pressed towards it. She could almost hear the rushing of blood in Neteyam's veins, and she closed her eyes lightly. 

Fight, Neteyam. Please, fight. 

She woke up to agitated voices and sat down quickly, stopping to wrap the blanket again around Neteyam the best she could. Neteyam's lips were turning transparent, and Kiri swallowed the worry and panic, crouching down to press a peck of kiss on his brother's cool cheek and jumping on her feet, her ears already twitching towards the voices.

There were two of them, and she noticed her mother's instantly. The other voice made her frown at first, but then, a careful joy flickered in her chest. 

She scurried to the door, opened the door mat and ended up in the middle of full blown quarrel. Mother stood in front of the door opening, in all of her soldierly character. Her hands were on her loins and her eyes flashed in fire. A couple of strides further, there was Spider. His face were dirty and his clothes ripped into shreds, but his hands flailed in similar passion as his opponent's.

-You are not coming in! Neytiri raged, all of her being telling the same story.

-But he's my friend! Spider tried. -We've grown up together! You can't just —

Neytiri's expression grew even wilder at that. -Things have changed, human boy, she hissed. -And I absolutely can keep you out from him. You are a villain!

-Mother!

Kiri's voice rose from her throat, terrified and shocked, and both of the others turned to her briefly. Spider looked relieved for a moment, but Neytiri took her daughter by the arm and yanked her behind her back. 

-Be careful, daughter, she hissed. -That human boy is dangerous. I knew it all the way. 

Spider's face turned into a shocked, hurting grimace, and Kiri tried once more. 

-Mother, she panted, - has he ever been anything else but on our side? Has he ever threatened us?

Neytiri pushed her further into the tent. -Enough. Go to your brother. 

She took her broken bow, brandishing it threateningly towards the boy standing in front of her. 

-Stay away, she growled. -Never come back to my family again. 

Chapter Text

When Kiri winced awake, the world was silent. She laid still for a moment, her arm still draped over Neteyam's shallowly moving chest. There was a rattle in every breathe that she listened to with a frown, something she hadn't heard before. It had been hours since Rohit had last visited. Kiri knew what they were doing — there wasn't really much they could do except give Neteyam peace and a chance to rest, give his inner strength a chance to do its best.

Outside, the wind was picking up, making the wind bells on both sides of the dwelling door mat thud softly against each other. Kiri stood up inaudibly, glancing at his brother and wiping a sheen of sweat from his forehead. The gentle gesture didn't rouse the slightest reaction from Neteyam. 

-Sleep, Neteyam, she whispered, tucking him in with the blanket that had slipped away. -I'll be back soon. 

There was something in the wind she found like it was calling for her. In her ears, it sounded like a faint heartbeat, and when she sneaked out from the dwelling, she could hear long, even sounds of breath. Her body felt suddenly electrisized, like wrapped in an enormous, warm hug, and her eyes filled with tears. 

-Don't take him away, Eywa, she whispered. -Let him live.  

—

When Rohit approached her sister's dwelling, a basket full of herbs and weeds in her hands, she heard it. A low, mournful, throaty song, sang with broken tone of a heartbroken mother. It was without words but so full of sorrow and love that her eyes filled for a moment. She stopped under the tree, lowering the basket onto the ground and raising her face towards the sky, squinting towards the canopies that veiled the sun. Soft steps behind her almost took her by surprise, but her sister's voice didn't.

-I can take them, Rohit, Ronal's voice said. -You need rest now. Bandages, right?

Rohit turned towards her sister, not even trying to conceal the tiredness in her thankful smile. -Yes. And herbs. Here's spiderwort, turmeric and yarrow. Are you familiar with any of them?

Ronal looked at the pouch with dried herbs Rohit took from her belt, opening it gingerly and examining the herbs one by one. -The last one I haven't heard of. Ronal looked cerefully, taking one of the leaves and turning it around in her fingers. -White flower?

-I've heard some call it that, yes. Rohit smiled with relief. -Make them an infusion and use the rest as a poultice. 

In the dwelling, Kiri was still sleeping, snuggled closely in with his brother. Ronal stopped, smiling at the sight for a moment, letting the siblings have their closeness for a moment more. Then she walked further, taking the bowl and pouring some water from a flagon over the herbs. Finally she made a small fire. 

When the water was almost boiling, she heard a yawn and a sleepy shift behind her. Kiri was waking up. Ronal turned to look at her, a soft smile on her face. -Good morning, my girl, she said softly.

She usually didn't do endearments outside her immediate family, but something about this weirdly spiritual and silent child was touching her. Even more so now that she was in a brink of losing her older brother, clearly closest to her of her family. Maybe it was the pregnancy that was making her soft like this, Ronal hummed at herself, a bit amused. 

Kiri's smile was sleepy, at first radiant but then quickly diminished like the reality hit her a moment later. -Good morning. 

-Do you want to eat? Ronal asked, nodding towards the door where she had left some smoked fish from her own family breakfast. Kiri glanced at the gourd the fish was served in, shaking her head minutely. 

-I'm sorry, she whispered. -I like your food, it's not that. It's just that —

Ronal nodded, understanding. It was not easy to support your own life force when someone, your own flesh and blood, wa withering away just under your eyes. She felt that herself when Roa and her calf were taken away. During the day, she was a fierce warrior, but during the night, she felt like wanting to die. It was Tonowari who forced her to eat in those dark nights. 

-I know, she sighed. -But you need to eat. You need to survive. What would your family think if they lost another of theirs?

Kiri stopped, clearly to think. Her emotions were not easily seen, Ronal had noticed. She was like a closed up sea shell — mostly in her own thoughts, her own inner world. Only under the sea, in touch of the forces and creatures of nature, had Ronal seen her completely relaxed, totally soft and open. There was genuinely something else in that child. 

She stirred the boiling water with a stick, making sure it didn't boil over, and reached for the gourds and halved sea shells that were holding the assortment of fish, grilled and smoked for their breakfast, and topped with herbs and some sea grass. She chose one of the halves, especially delicious looking, and sprinkled some fresh herbs on the top of it for some more appetite. 

-Eat, Kiri, she said gently, holding the shell for her but not pushing it. -You will need your strength.

—

I hadn't noticed how much I missed Omatikaya food until the abundant serve of fruits, vegetables, seeds and dried meat was spread in front of me onto the flatten, table-like stone pillar. There were seven of us in total. Ka'ani had told me that they have lost many of their brothers during the chaotic escape of late. Apparently, RDA troups still harassed our tribe occasionally, not minding my family's left. Ka'ani's guess was that theys simply wanted to keep them humble and on their toes. No-one had been lost this far in the attacks, but it had cause the Omatikaya sprinkled to greater area, hoping to stay invisible if they weren't seen in big groups. 

Hearing that made my stomach churn, but I knew I needed energy. Whatever our plan was going to be, I needed to be in my best strength to pull it through with my tribal brothers. 

-We made some quick sketches when you were resting, Toruk Makto, Ka'ani said when half of the food was disappeared to our hungry mouths. -We have no idea where Max and Norm are, but their ship is still in the jungle. RDA didn't destroy it when they got rid of everything else. Maybe they thought that some outdated computers and a Sky People hospital won't pose a major threat to them. 

The word 'hospital' stirred a flicker of hope in me. I had had that in mind when leaving the Metkayina village, but not seeing it anywhere on my way here had already made my hope disappear. -You mean the portable clinic?

Ka'ani nodded. -The thing you took Kireysi in when she first got ill. 

-Grace, I murmured, sadness filling me. Our first casualty to this unreasonable war. And not just a casualty, but a close, greatly missed friend. 

That moment cemented my decision to give everything I had to make sure no more casualties would come. 

-Are we ready? I said, adding my plate to a pile of others.-Thank you. This was delicious. 

Ka'ani nodded, and the others around us stood up and started to gather their things. 

-So, into the jungle and the ship, Ka'ani enforced. -Let's not waste time. 

We cleaned up meticulously after ourselves — it was crucial not to leave any trace for possible RDA troups to follow — and walked to a cliff where the warriors stopped. We waited, and just a moment later, five ikrans flew towards us, their wings a majestic sight against the empty sky. 

-Many ikrans have left, Ka'ani said, sorrow in his voice. -Ours here are the last ones standing. 

I felt a shiver go down my spine. -Like you are, I said, with wordless respect. 

Ka'ani nodded. -Like we are. 

—

Next night, the wind rose again. Kiri walked alone to the beach, Neytiri sitting with Neteyam on her turn. Lo'ak was somewhere Kiri had no idea of. Maybe with Payakan? That was not her deepest concern though. 

Something inside her whispered that Jake wouldn't make it on time, that whatever Ronal and Rohit were trying wouldn't have the effect Neteyam needed to. They were just buying him time. 

The water was dark, only light coming from the plants and trees that soon were left behind Kiri as she approached the sea. Beneath the surface, she could see the undersea plants shedding their soft, otherwordly light around. She walked into the warm water, taking calculated steps in slippery, flat stones. 

Hear me, Eywa. Don't take my brother away.

She walked further and further, finally closing her eyes and disappearing under the water. When the gentle waves evened out, the dance of woodsprites became visible in the soft, bioluminent light. 

Chapter Text

Neteyam will die.

The thought pulsed through Lo'ak's mind in rhythm with his heart.

My brother will die.

The sun shining through his closed eyelids felt like a cruel tease.

Neteyam, the strong one, the considerate one, the one who taught him to stretch, to aim, to fly. To trust.

The one who always stood between Lo'ak and their father's anger.

Who will I be when he's gone? The son of the family. The follower of great Jacksully, Toruk Makto, leader and guide.

I won't survive it. I'll never be enough.

Payakan, who had until now stayed an unmoving, steady presence under him, humming soothingly, shifted under him, splashed the water with his fin. The sudden movement stirred Lo'ak from his thoughts and made him notice his surroundings for the first time today.

The sudden shiver of the sea. The blur of movement coming closer.

There was a group of ilu dancing nearby. But that was not all. Amongst them, Lo'ak could see Kiri, riding ramrod-straight, full steam to the direction of the place where she had collapsed before.

What on Eywa is she doing?

Payakan was moving towards the ilus already, in his steady but inevitably too-slow pace. Lo'ak kept his gaze on his sister, keeping her moving form as a steady point as he slowly stood to his feet in the tulkun's back.

-Kiri! He yelled from the bottom of his lungs, his hands on the both sides of his mouth, forming a horn.

For a horrifying second, he thought Kiri didn't hear him, or even worse, ignored him. Then, Kiri's ilu turned towards him, and she was beside Payakan in a flash, her ilu bouncing under her.

-What? Her tone was rejecting, defensive, as were her eyes inside the red rims. Lo'ak winced with empathy. His sister mourned, as did he.

He adjusted his tone slightly warmer when he kept on.

-You're not going to where I think you are? He asked, and Kiri tensed right away, her ilu reacting under her at once, bucking and chirping in distress.

-I need to do something, Kiri said vehemently. Her eyes were restless, turning to where she was going again and again. -Have you seen him, Lo'ak? He's weaker by the day. What if his strength wanes before dad comes back? What if —

What if dad doesn't come back. That was another fear they shared, the thought they both quickly rejected. Lo'ak reached towards Kiri, who dodged the reassuring gesture. I'm not the reassurer, Lo'ak thought bitterly. Neteyam was.

Is? Was?

-Right, he said, gritting his teeth. -So you'll go and have another seizure, so that soon mom will be two kids short?

Kiri's eyes flashed. -No, she hissed. -I'm going to meet Eywa. Confront her if I need to. She must see the reason.

Lo'ak snorted. -Reason? She's a god, Kiri. She doesn’t care an ilu's tailfin —

-That's not Eywa I've learned to know, Kiri said,  suddenly calm, like she was feeling her words deep in her soul. -She's so much more than we know. Remember when dad prayed when Home Tree was in danger, and Eywa answered? 

The expression in Kiri's eyes, the unnatural peace in her, almost a trance-like, shut Lo'ak's mouth. He shrugged, lowering his eyes to his lap.

-Then, go, he said silently. -But I'll take care that you won't do anything stupid.

When Kiri urged her ilu forward, disappearing under the waves, Lo'ak hopped onto another ilu.

-Back to the village, he ordered. -We need Ronal and Tonowari.

—

The beach was silent when Lo'ak jumped off the ilu, let her free to the sea and waded to the shore. The path buzzed before his eyes as he scurried up, towards the chieftain's dwelling. There were no signs of mourning, at least any he would have recognized, and he let himself breathe a little freer.

He was still outside the dwelling, leaning his elbows against his knees in an attempt to slow down his breathing, when Tonowari stepped out of the dwelling, closing the door flap meticulously.

His serious, almost solemn expression made Lo'ak feel lightheaded.

-How's..., he started, fumbling for the right words. Tonowari seemed to know what he was aiming, though.

-Your brother is comfortable, he said simply. -He's not awake, but he has no pain.

Lo'ak swallowed painfully. He hadn't wanted to see Neteyam after he was taken to the chieftain’s dwelling. He couldn't stand the thought of seeing his brother like that, and Neytiri had understood. Instead, he has sat or played with Tuk whenever the others were sitting with his older brother. 

-Thank you, Sir, Lo'ak said. -Could Ronal have a moment for me? It's about Kiri.

Tonowari's expression turned alarmed. He had been there when Kiri had collapsed. -Is Kiri in trouble?

-Not yet, Lo'ak said. -No if we go quickly.

—

-Here, said Ka'ani, nodding towards the abandoned researcher's hut covered by jungle flora. -Here is what is left of it. 

My chest felt suddenly tighter. That tiny hut, as insignificant as it looked, simply a testimony of Eywa's will taking over her creatures', currently held the center of my life, a piece of my heart, somewhere inside its rusty holes. I took a second to breathe, both to even out my breath after an arduous hike through the overgrown jungle and my heart for the emotion at seeing finally one of the keys to save my firstborn.

-It's not too long when this equipment worked in saving Kiri, I said hopefully.

Ka'ani hummed. -It should work, if RDA groups haven’t found and destroyed it.

The reality like that silenced us for a second, but the hope we felt was too strong to freeze us altogether.

-Let's go in and check, I said, finding some of my squad leader self-confidence. -We need the equipment ready, and then we need to fix the intercom to find Max and Norm.

We splitted and started to move. Ka'ani and his Na'Vi comrades took towards the back where the vines were curling around the structures and hanging from the roofs. I went to the front and started to check the rusty consoles and drawers, their metal broken and twisted. I couldn't tell if it was the nature's job or if someone had found the hut before us and emptied it of all the valuables. I must believe it was the first alternative that stood.

We worked concentrated, strictly organized and silent. To my great relief, I noticed that Ka'ani and the others had had the same kind of soldierly training that I recognized as mine. Us doing the work in similar ways saved us time and strength that were invaluable.

-Here, Toruk Makto! Ka'ani said suddenly, almost causing my heart to stop. One of the Na'Vis held a metal box in their hands, locked with a big lock I recognized one of Norm's. 

-Perfect! I breathed, barely able to wait the box brought to me. It looked deceptively ordinary: just a box someone had forgotten to rot in the wild.

-Thank you, I said from the bottom of my heart, kneeling right away by the box and starting to try different kinds of codes into its lock.

-Keep on, I urged them forward. -Look for anything locked, sealed, boxes, drawers. Max and Norm wouldn’t leave without protecting everything first.

—

Ronal's ilu was much faster than Lo'ak's, and soon Lo'ak let the Metkayina tsahik go her way. He stopped at the reef, let the ilu go and waited for Payakan. Payakan came at his call, his presence as soothing as ever, and Lo'ak pressed against his enormous friend's neck and closed his eyes as they floated back to the village.

Tonowari was waiting for him on the shore, almost like he had knew what would be the outcome.

-Ronal knows these waters like her heart, the chieftain soothed, his hand steady and warm as he helped Lo'ak to the shore from the water. -She will find Kiri and bring her back. We just need to wait and stay patient.

Lo'ak's snort came before he could stop it. He covered his mouth quickly. -So sorry, sir, he said right away. -I didn’t mean to be disrespectful. This waiting without doing a thing just... kills me.

Tonowari didn’t look angry though. -How about going to your brother? He asked gingerly. -I know how you feel about it... Maybe, give it a try?

Lo'ak found himself thinking. Really thinking, and Tonowari's soothing presence helped him in making a decision. Ronal's words flowed through his mind, giving him hope he neded not to race back to save his sister.

There's secret garden near Soul Tree, Ronal had told him. That's where I go to fetch sea herbs for Neteyam. They have secret powers that keep Neteyam stable while waiting. I'll take your sister there with me. She needs something to do, a way of feeling useful, and that will do it.

Lo'ak blinked his eyes a couple of times, chasing the moisture off.

-Maybe I could... just give it a try.

They walked together, slowly, to the dwelling.