A/N: Tìreyomyu is Na'vi for 'life-eater', as far as I can make it.
WARNINGS: possession/body-stealing of children, violence, death.
Written for the sharp_teeth (on livejournal) prompt: the dead live inside Eywa. But what happens when they want to come back? And with the Na'vi opening their minds up when they connect to the trees, maybe the dead can come back...
– – –
'Omasyulang had never particularly wanted to die. She actually wanted to live, live with Pamalore and maybe, just maybe, she would have been content with that. But Pamalore had been killed, butchered, her beautiful self rendered nothing more than food for a palulukan's litter. And before that, both the Omaticaya's elders and Eywa Herself had said, no, you may not have her, too many first cousins in your family lines. Never mind that she would have no children with Pamalore, clan-law was clan-law. And so the angry, angry 'Omasyulang had raged and cried, and then Pamalore was taken from her anyway.
And angry, angry 'Omasyulang, mad with the pain of grief, ran into the jungle, and the People never saw her again.
(At least, not that they would recognise.)
– –
'Omasyulang had, before she got killed that first time (stupid, stupid little hunter, walking into a nantang ambush like she was a child with her first bow), thought that all she wanted was to be with Pamalore.
Death changed that.
All she wanted now was to live. To breathe, to taste, to hear, to see, to feel. She was still so angry, angry, angry, but now she was just another little spirit caught in Eywa's net. She snarled and railed and fought, and so 'Omasyulang kept her sense of self while those around her sighed and accepted and melded together and fell apart until they were just a jumbled, humming cloud of voices in the trees.
Weak, 'Omasyulang spat at them in the way of spirits, you're all weak, but underneath the contempt, she envied them their peace.
Maybe, maybe if she had found Pamalore, it would be fine, she would have her peace, but she never did.
Later, she would tell herself that she panicked about this. Later, when the grief-madness had cooled to pure, cunning-minded survival twisted through with what another person might call guilt. But whatever her latter justification, what happened is this: The being first known as 'Omasyulang fought her way into another's body. A child, barely more than an infant, but she had lived long enough to be considered a person once she had made her first connection with Eywa at the Tree of Souls. The child had a strong will, as most children do, but there was something wrong with her defences. Not strong enough, not developed enough, and 'Omasyulang the hunter was skilled at seeing weakness. 'Omasyulang the hunter had also bonded with an ikran, wrestling with the predator's mind until the two had come to an accord.
A little girl was nothing compared to the fierceness of an ikran, although to her credit the girl tried to fight back. No, no, no, no, stop hurting me, mama want mama MAMA MAMA MAMAMAMA-
– –
The proud parents called their daughter Winatirea, and although the girl grew up strange, they never realised what had actually happened, that their child's body was possessed by two spirits.
But Winatirea knew. She grew up knowing better than to fight, because if she fought too much the Stranger would lock her away in her own skull and Winatirea would never, ever see the sun or the jungle or her parents again. So Winatirea was a good host and didn't fight, and she got to experience the sun on her face and the laughter of her clan, but it was all felt second because the Stranger felt it first. Increasingly, Winatirea got angry at this. Angry, so angry; angry enough that one day when their (her, it's hers) body was in the upper branches of Hometree, Winatirea seized control just long enough that their body staggered and fell off.
Her clan saw her body try and grab hold of something, anything to break the fall, so they knew it was just an accident.
Next time, 'Omasyulang resolved, that won't happen.
– –
Her body's name the next time was Atanakeyan, and that was her first problem; a male name for a male body. Unlike with Winatirea's body that felt like a home, Atanakeyan's body was subtly, uncomfortably off. It was easier when the body was a child (although still odd), but then the body grew, and the proportions got more and more wrong. She was unsettled enough that she was glad that she had forced the boy out at the beginning, because it would have such a struggle to remain in control.
Her ikran didn't know what to make of her. He was bound to her through tsaheylu, but underneath the love there was a wariness, and he had come so close to killing her before she had joined their queues...
She was almost glad when the body was killed in a little inter-clan conflict, a spear through the chest that solved so many problems.
And as the body bled out, 'Omasyulang resolved that next time, she would pick a girl.
– –
Aytanhì's body fit so well, it was like being back in her original one. Which frankly 'Omasyulang felt that she deserved after the effort she put into getting the body. Eywa, 'Omasyulang discovered, might work slow, but work things out She did. 'Omasyulang had to spend so much time hiding that by when she finally escaped again, Hometree itself had changed.
But Aytanhì's body was perfect, perfect, perfect.
Perfect, that was, until the ikrans didn't fly away until she had found hers like they were supposed to, but lunged forward and ripped her open so fast she only had time to scream once.
That wasn't supposed to happen. Next time, 'Omasyulang resolved, she would find a way around that. Somehow, she would make sure that it didn't happen again.
– –
In retrospect, picking the granddaughter of a tsahik was a mistake. But 'Omasyulang was getting desperate, and she didn't know that Simaweye's body was related to the current tsahik. She saw an opening, a child's mind with the brain behind it subtly weakened, and she struck fast down the connection and it was all fine. Even if Simaweye was a bit older than she preferred, it was fine. Except...
Except that the body's mother kept shooting her odd looks when she made mistakes, and mistakes she made. Hometree hadn't changed, but the Omaticaya had. Little things, little mistakes that shouldn't add up to much, but then Simaweye's mother brought her to her own mother. For the first time in a long, long time, 'Omasyulang was afraid. The tsahik asked question after question, and though 'Omasyulang answered and then cried like the child whose body she stole, the tsahik would not let up.
Until, finally, the tsahik said, we don't use those words any more.
'Omasyulang had enough time to sob and plead before her body's grandmother slit her throat, and she wished the old woman had been faster.
Next time, 'Omasyulang promised herself, she would not make so many mistakes.
– –
But the next time, there wasn't a next time. The next time 'Omasyulang had reasoned that enough time had passed that Eywa was not searching for her, she ran into a shield of living voices. Again and again, when the Omaticaya brought a child to the Tree of Souls, the rest of the clan also linked their queues. They chanted and concentrated their minds, and 'Omasylang was only a single disembodied spirit; she couldn't fight against the unity of the clan.
Her clan.
Her only clan, her blood-relatives, and they would shut her out?
'Omasyulang raged and screamed as only spirits can, and angry, angry 'Omasyulang never realised until it was too late that Eywa had noticed her.
Shush, 'Omasyulang thought she heard someone say, shush, little spirit.
I will not!
Yes, that awful, echoing, feminine voice said, yes, you will.
At first, 'Omasyulang didn't know what Eywa (for who else would it be?) was doing until she felt herself being gently tugged apart.
No, no, no, stop it, please, I'll stop, I won't steal anymore bodies, I'll be good, please, please, please, but Eywa never replied.
And as the last of her self disintegrated, 'Omasyulang thought she heard children laughing.