***Update: I am working on expanding/fixing the ending to be...better. So keep an eye out! Thanks!

***Updated again, the story is complete! Thanks for reading and reviewing! :)

Thank you to everyone who liked my first story and left reviews! I hope you like this one as well! Rated M for sexual content and some mild dialogue (that's all Jake's fault). Please note: the dialogue between Aeri and Neytiri is meant to be "spoken" in Na'vi, and Aeri's narration is "thought" also in Na'vi. Jake's narration and most of his dialogue is meant to be English. Some of the concepts Aeri uses in her narration (most notably things like "weeks" or "months") are meant to convey approximate passages of time, not strictly the human connotation of "week" or "month", etc. The original storyline is also mostly the same, with a few differences: Neytiri does not have a sister (Sylwanin) as mentioned in the original script, and the final battle with Quaritch has a different outcome.

Disclaimer: Avatar is not mine!

Some Na'vi vocabulary used throughout the story (does not belong to me, and I did my best to use it appropriately!) :

Unil'eveng Eywa: dream child of Eywa (Unil'ayeveng is the plural)

Nantang: viperwolves

Palulukan: thanator

Pa'li: direhorse

Yerik: hexapede, small deer-like creature

Kaltxi: Hello, greeting

Oel ngati kameie: I see you

Skxawng: moron

Oloeyktan: clan leader

Tsahik: spiritual leader

Sa'nok: mother

Ke'ean

Chapter 1

My name is Aeri'ina. I am a young woman of the Omaticaya, though this was not always the way of it. My mother and father came to the forest clan when I was very small. I was raised amongst them, growing up knowing and loving them as my own. My mother…my father…were killed when Hometree fell. I was one of the Omaticaya, but have always stood apart from them.

My name is Aeri'ina, but the other young Na'vi call me Ke'ean, "not blue".

I was born Unil'eveng Eywa, a "dream child of Eywa". My skin was the color of cream, a very pale yellow, and the baby fuzz adorning my crown was not dark, but a faint rusty color, very unlike dark hair already sprouting on the heads of the other children. Children of my likeness were not unheard of, but were very rare. The songs and stories of our history were unclear about how often Unil'ayeveng occurred, but the impression was that less than eight had been born in our known history. The story of the Unil'ayeveng was always bittersweet. For the first five or six cycles of their lives, they were precocious and intuitive children. They learned quickly, they understood their world implicitly, and showed incredible compassion and understanding for their young age. The stories are a little vague, but they tell us that each child only lived those few cycles before their health declined and they passed once more into the arms of Eywa, only ever a brief shining moment of love and understanding in the lives of their families. The occurrence of a dream child was heralded as a portent from Eywa, a reminder to her people to guard each life as precious and valuable, for however long that life will have to walk the land. It was always a difficult message to take, for the loss of a child was felt deeply by all members of the clan, but to have their lives touched by such implicit love and understanding from the soul of a child was a blessing to the people, and a comfort after their passing.

The event of my birth was no different. It was a joyous moment for the tribe, a reverential time to welcome another dream child amongst the clan members and the Na'vi people as a whole. And yet it was a time of sorrow-to-come, for they expected me to fade from their eyes as all the others had. As I approached my allotted five cycles of life, however, my vigor only increased along with my fellow younglings'. My pale color deepened very slightly, and I developed faintly darker stripes on my skin, mimicking the darker blue stripes of my playmates. My pale auburn hair grew thick and long and my eyes, although they lacked any hint of green most other Na'vi eyes held, were a strong golden hue, as any other member of my tribe.

I never knew until much later, but my mother and father were in constant discussion with the elders and storytellers of our clan, trying to determine if the songs of old were inaccurate, or if I was something new. It became clear that my health was in no way declining as I approached adolescence. Unfortunately, it soon also became apparent that my light color did not withstand the strong plains sunlight as well as my playmates' did. I ended many days with raw, painful patches of skin, and would have to remain close to home and out of the sun for several days until I healed again from the damage. A decision was reached between my parents and the elders to relocate to a different tribe, one of the nearby forest clans, where I would find more protection from the raw sunlight. The surrounding clans had of course heard of the birth of the Unil'eveng Eywa, and they welcomed my parents and me as one of them. I was very young when we relocated, but was already a solitary sort of child and the transition into the new clan did not trouble me. I loved to go out on my own adventures around the plains and explore, and I saw in the forest environs endless opportunities for exploration and adventure. I was aware, however, what a harsh price it was for my parents to relocate from their beloved family and home, and I endeavored to be as agreeable as I could to help ease their own transition.

It was therefore with a rebellious heart but quiet lips that I had accepted what my parents had to say to me, shortly after our arrival in the forest. I had been quietly arguing my case for joining the other young Na'vi as they adventured into the forest with a few of the older adults, seeking out new plants and animals and beginning to learn the skills of the hunters and warriors of the clan, which I secretly yearned to be when I grew up.

"Aeri'ina, " my mother said to me "You are an exceptional child, and are a blessing from Eywa upon our family. We know you wish to go scouting with the other children, and yes, we know you wish to be a mighty hunter amongst the Na'vi." She smiled kindly down at me at this. I had not been as secret as I had thought, then!

She continued, "My daughter, you have many skills, and you will learn the skills the other young ones are learning, but you are unique. It poses a very real challenge for a hunter, whose great advantage is stealth, to be as visible as you are, my dear one." She said this very gently to me; she knew I did not want to acknowledge my challenges as a pale-colored girl in a vibrant, lush, dark forest.

"Your father and I have been in discussion with the elders of this clan, and we believe your role among the people is destined to be a Storyteller, a Singer of the old tales, and weaver of the new ones. Your gift of memory, reflection, and ability to relate these tales to others will be a considerable contribution to us all. And you have a distinctive position from which to tell your own unique tale." I could tell my mother was very proud of me, and she beamed down upon my pale locks.

To be hailed as a future Storyteller, especially at such an age, was a tremendous honor. Not only were the Singers and Storytellers our way of relating and celebrating our history, but they were also charged with seeing the whole of our history and seeing the patterns enmeshed amongst the years, those that brought us peace, and those that brought us sorrow. They could warn the clans of troublesome patterns, or could sense that a time of peace was coming and help keep the people on the right path to such an outcome. It was a tremendous responsibility, and I was honored, and yet…and yet, I did not want to stay home, listening to the stories and eventually telling my own. I wanted the adventure and excitement of a hunt, the pride of defending my people!

But there was my mother, beaming down upon me, so happy to have her daughter being groomed for a role in her future…a future neither she nor my father had planned on me having from the moment my shining face had come into the world. I nodded graciously and accepted my future role. I would make my parents proud, bound and determined not to give them any cause for regretting the move to the forest, or for having a strange child.

Again though, I could hide nothing from my mother's watchful eyes, "You will be trained in all of the skills of the Omaticaya, my dear one. You will not lack any teachings, my daughter." She kept smiling and pulled me close into a tight embrace.

"I know mother. Thank you. I am grateful to you and father," I said, hugging her back.

As promised, I did begin to learn the rudimentary skills of hunting and scouting with the other children when the expeditions were close to Hometree and during high sun. It was during these outings that I met Neytiri, the daughter of the clan's Tsahik and Omaticaya. (As one of Eywa's mysteries myself, I had seen her before many times when my parents had met with the Tsahik to discuss my predicament. I recall overhearing the Tsahik reassuring my parents that Eywa would not have allowed me to stay among them so long if the intent was to take me back into her embrace like the other Unil'eveng. I remember her saying something about destiny, but although I understood a great deal at that age, I did not understand the Tsahik, and never questioned her…I was not entirely convinced I was meant to overhear their conversation.)

Neytiri was destined to be the next Tsahik, herself, and being a young child, she had less candor than the adults when it came to asking about my unique nature.

"You were supposed to have passed on, returned to Eywa, several years ago?" she had asked during one conversation. "Why have you not?" she asked, not harshly at all, but very direct in the manner of young children.

"I don't know," I said, honestly perplexed by my own situation, but not terribly concerned by it. Again, the luxuries of youth to be so direct and honest, without a care!

"Well, it must be Eywa's will that you are here, or she would have taken you back by now. My mother said…" she stopped abruptly and looked a little embarrassed. "Oh, I overheard my mother speaking to father about you…" she whispered apologetically.

"It's alright," I replied quickly, eager to hear what she had heard. "Please tell me?"

"Well," she continued more cautiously, "my mother said that Eywa does not play games with our lives and energies, and since you have lived far beyond any other Unil'ayeveng that we know of in the stories, you must have a destiny among us, but it remains hidden."

This had mystified me; I had a destiny? Did that mean something specific, or was it just like the destiny of every clan member, to live their life as it was presented to them? I had been puzzled, but it was soon forgotten amidst the play and explorations within the forest and Hometree itself. I no longer had to hide from the bright sunlight as the forest's canopy filtered the harsh rays well enough that my skin could tolerate it. I was free to explore as I wished, and took full advantage of that freedom.

As Neytiri and I both grew into young women of the clan, we developed a close relationship, such as sisters of the same family would have. I never could shake my solitary nature and was often alone as an adolescent and young woman, so Neytiri and I were not always together, but we remained close all the same. She was taught more advanced skills of hunting and fighting, providing food for the clan along with other young hunters, and I was immersed in my studies as a future storyteller. I had urged the elders to allow me on the more advanced hunts, but it was impossible…it was simply too likely that my mere presence would spoil a hunt, alerting the prey to our approach before we could be in range. I understood their reasoning, and tried hard to accept it for some time. Eventually, as I became a very capable young woman and restless at that, I took myself out hunting and scouting, taking it upon myself to learn the skills I so badly wanted to possess. I did not have much success, but I ended up learning a great deal in the forest on my own all the same, and my solitary lessons in the forest provided me with a lot of fulfillment and peace, which was very welcome during those years.

All Na'vi are raised and taught to respect the energy flowing through all life, from plants to the animals and of course the people. All the same, it was difficult for the other children, and even the adults, not to stare a bit as I walked among them. Whether they did so consciously or not, I do not know, but I understood why…I was very different, in both appearance and bearing. I never held it against them; I simply accepted it, and adapted. I even came to accept the name the children had taken to calling me: Ke'ean, "not blue". It was never said in jest, or to hurt…but it still rankled, just a little, every so often.

I became very knowledgeable of our history and had a knack for sharing stories with others. I was beginning to see the patterns woven amongst the past, seeing our success and failure as a result of different actions and attitudes over time. Such was the importance of the Storyteller and the responsibility of such a role, that the name "Ke'ean" became a sort of informal title for the Unil'eveng Singer, and I could find no fault with those who chose it over my given name.

It happened one day that I was high in the canopy of Hometree after the sun had set in quiet solitary reflection. I was a very capable young woman at this point, and had learned to slip among the trees as silently as my brothers and sisters, with the added caveat of remaining concealed to breakup the solid outline of my light colored body, and often sought out lone places on the edges of Hometree's great expanse. I was high in the branches of the tree when Tsu'tey's hunting party came galloping through the brush below, headed purposefully toward Hometree. I saw the rest of his party following close behind on foot. Neytiri was with them, and they also had a Dreamwalker at knife point, forcing him ahead toward Hometree.

I stared at them as they passed…we had not seen a Dreamwalker since the terrible day the Sky People had turned against us and began killing. Many had died that day, and Eytukan, the Oloeyktan, had decreed that the Dreamwalkers were forbidden to approach the village ever again. I had been sad at that; I quite liked Grace and a few of the others, but clearly the Sky People had no respect for the balance of life, and the reaction of the Oloeyktan was just.

Now, though, Neytiri herself was escorting this Dreamwalker directly back to Hometree! I swung from the branches and traveled in the treetops, keeping an eye on the party below as they made their way to the center of the great tree. Surely there would be explanation enough once they arrived and presented this creature before the clan.

I dropped to the ground and heard Neytiri explaining to her father that she had been about to kill him, but there had been a sign from Eywa. I could see this Dreamwalker more clearly now; his clothes had been torn and he was bleeding. Clearly he had not fared well out in the forest, not surprisingly. The Sky People were ill equipped to handle the dangers of our world, even in their strange, Na'vi-like false bodies. The newcomer spoke, in English, of course, but he did not seem to understand our language at all. This struck me as very strange…I had learned English with many of the other children under Grace's tutelage years ago, before relations were severed, but the other Dreamwalkers and Grace herself were always quite fluent in our language from what I had seen. They had learned our language years before I even came to the Omaticaya, and new Dreamwalkers studied it amongst themselves to gain an understanding of us before ever meeting us. This new one did not seem to even know the name of Eywa! He seemed an oddity even among the Dreamwalkers, and yet here he was…

I was surprised when Mo'at, the Tsahik and Neytiri's mother, decreed that he would stay and learn our ways, and even more surprised when I felt a stab of…something…when she insisted that Neytiri be his teacher. She must have divined something different about him, as only she was able to. There was no doubt, he was unique. Something new, something not terribly unlike…myself.

"Oh, surely not." I muttered to myself. I let my mind reflect back on that stab of "something" I had felt just moments before. My jaw dropped in shock as I recognized that it was jealousy…I had wanted to teach this Dreamwalker! But why? Neytiri was much more skilled in the ways of the people than I, and since he would be among us, I would still have the opportunity to investigate this unique person who had also been touched by Eywa. There was no reason I should be feeling such jealousy.

I kept my eye on this strange creature, took in his tattered clothing, his physique that was both thicker than most Na'vi men and yet still lacking…he had great potential, there, I could see. He had a strong bearing, but showed not a trace of arrogance. He was nervous, and looked very alone. I could see he was still bleeding a little from his encounter in the forest and felt the sudden driving urge to clean the wounds and bind them to keep them from infection…

"Oh, Aeri, you skxawng." I hung my head and closed my eyes. I actually liked this man. I was attracted to him despite myself!