Brave New World

The Sky People were at war with themselves.

There were some among the People who said that the loss of life was always a tragedy, no matter whose life was ended. In that, Neytiri had to disagree. The death of a grabbit may be tragic in one sense, but it was a death that fed the bellies of the Omaticaya. The death of the ursix might be tragic for the ursix itself, but usually it was in self-defence. She could not imagine the death of any tawtute being a tragedy, apart from whatever bonds the tawtute may have formed. And the Cleaved Ones, they who reformed on the other side of the Cataclysms and returned to plague the world…their deaths would never be a tragedy. Their mere existence was a tragedy, and they plagued the na'vi and tawtute both.

But the tawtute were still liable to fight among themselves. One of their kingdoms lay in the south, another in the north. Their kingdoms, their tribes, were at war with each other, and as always when the tawtute did battle, the land suffered for it. Their flying machines, the clothing made of metal that held them aloft, were doing battle in the sky, while their four-legged beasts blasted at each other from afar. She understood that the chieftain of the northern tawtute tribe had been killed recently, and as a result, his fellow clansman were making war against the southern tribe. On one level, it was satisfying to see the Sky People slaughter each other. On the other…she winced as one of the tawtute's metal beasts burst into flame, collapsing onto the ground below. The tawtute killed each other, and the land paid the price. She subconsciously fingered her bow, reminding herself that the weapon would be next to useless against the Sky People. She knew that, despite the claims of Tsu'tey to the contrary, that if the tawtute truly wished the eradication of the People, there was nothing they could do to avoid that. Bows were as nothing compared to the tawtute's spears of fire. One of the spears she saw hit a tawtute in the air above, its metal clothing taking the hit, causing it to spiral down towards the ground.

I wonder if it'll survive, Neytiri wondered.

She didn't particularly care, but still, watching the tawtute flail around like a speared fish…well, there was something beautiful about it. Something unsettling as well, as the tawtute's trajectory took it closer and closer to-

Goddess!

Her.

Neytiri dived for cover as the tawtute came crashing down where once she stood. Letting out a hiss, she slung her bow over her shoulder and took out a knife. The tawtute hadn't meant her arm. She doubted that the Sky People even knew she was here. Yet intentional or otherwise, one of the tawtute had nearly killed her. Approaching the tawtute's body, Neytiri wondered if honour demanded its death. For there were those among the People who decreed that actions were the measure of oneself. Others pointed to the intentions behind those actions. As the future tsahik, Neytiri knew that she didn't have the luxury of abstaining from an opinion, but the truth was, she couldn't be sure. So it was in that uncertainty that she didn't plunge the knife into the tawtute's body, but instead, shifted it from its belly onto its back.

What a strange creature you are.

The tawtute's body was fully enclosed in its metal clothing. Even its face was obscured by a metal mask. Its eyes shone, but Neytiri knew that was a function of the clothing itself rather than an indication of the tawtute's condition.

What do I do with you?

An explosion rocked the air and land – another one of the Sky People's great metal beasts had collapsed. Neytiri hissed – more death. More destruction. More misery caused by the Sky People. If the tawtute before her wasn't dead, then it might be reasonable to suggest that she finish the job, lest it live to bring more misery. Fingering her knife, she began to wonder how she might slit its throat when it was protected by the metal clothing.

Instead, she sheathed the knife, grabbed the tawtute's two metal legs, and began to drag it away.

The Sky People were fighting. She couldn't stop that from happening, but maybe she could find out why.

##

Half an hour later, the battle was over, and all Neytiri had managed to do was to get the tawtute's mask off.

Some of the People said that the tawtute had magic. And maybe some did – certainly the ones the tawtute called "cyphers" – basically the equivalent of a tsahik as far as Neytiri could tell. Yet she understood that as a people, the Children of the Sky weren't magic, they just had technology the People could only dream of. For indeed, the People used technology – the knife. The bow. The spear. Even the fire. In this, the tawtute were no different. But when considering how advanced their technology was, Neytiri had to concede that it made all the difference in the world. So much difference that she had to admit she had no idea how the metal clothing even worked, and it was only by fiddling around that she'd got the tawtute's mask off.

Granted, she wanted an excuse to give herself a break from fiddling around with the metal clothing, but even so, she couldn't help but stare. She knew what Sky People looked like, but she'd never seen one in the flesh until now. It was…similar, she reflected. Its skin was darker – a shade of brown rather than the blue of the People. Its eyes smaller. Its teeth were similar, but its incisors were less pronounced – she knew that the tawtute were omnivorous like the People, but she had no idea how they were able to eat meat at all with such tiny fangs. And while barely visible under the cloth that covered it, she could see the tawtute's hair – fur, really. No queue for the tawtute to connect to Eywa. No queue for them to even connect among themselves.

No wonder you kill each other so easily.

Looking at the facial features of the tawtute, she guessed it was female – not that she had much to go by, but still, she could just tell, same way she could tell the gender of any one of the People just by looking at their face. Poking the tawtute's nose, she wondered if this warrior had a family to go back to. If she killed her now, would they weep for her? Or, more likely, would they bring more death and-

What?

The tawtute's eyes were opening.

Brown eyes. How strange.

The tawtute's eyes were widening.

How are you able to see with such tiny eyes?

The tawtute let out a yell and scampered back. Neytiri, for her part, sprung back and crouched down, grabbing her knife and letting out a hiss.

"What?" the tawtute whispered. She sat there, breathing heavily. "You…who are you? What are you?"

Neytiri blinked – the tawtute was speaking her language.

"Are you…a na'vi?"

How was that possible? The Cleaved Ones had their own language. Why was the language of the tawtute the same as the People?

"I…" The tawtute began getting to her feet. "I thought you were a legend."

Neytiri got to her feet as well, before letting out a smirk. Even clad in her metal clothing, the tawtute was well over a head shorter than her. For all their advanced technology, the tawtute were meant to be incredibly frail. Their bones broke easily. Their lives were shorter. It might explain why they were so adept at bringing death, considering that their lives were so meaningless to the world and each other.

"Do you speak?" the tawtute asked.

But be that as it may, the sky woman was speaking to her. She supposed she might as well answer. Besides, hadn't she saved this tawtute's life to get information on why the Sky People were warring among themselves?

"I do speak," Neytiri said. "And since we understand each other, I would hear your truths."

The tawtute took a step towards her. "Amazing," it said. "First the urgoth come back, now the na'vi."

Neytiri's heart skipped a beat. The urgoth…back? No. Impossible.

"I'd like to know-"

"You Sky People," Neytiri said. She nodded up to the air above, where the battle had once been fought. "You kill each other more than usual now. Why?"

"Why?" the tawtute asked. "What do you mean?"

"I know you kill yourselves at a whim, but lately, your wars have become even more bloody. The People wish to know why." Neytiri frowned. "Speak plainly Sky Woman. Your tongue may look like mine, but I wish to see as little of it as possible."

"I…" The tawtute took a breath, her eyes lingering on Neytiri's blade. "The Dominion's attacking Bastion. We killed their leader. They want revenge."

"Your tribes are at war then for the death of a clan leader?"

"I suppose that's one way of putting it."

"This war. When shall it end?"

"I…soon, I hope? I mean, Stralheim and Antium have been enemies for centuries, but-"

"Speak no more tawtute, I've heard enough." Neytiri sheathed her blade. "Fly off Sky Woman. I have nothing more to say to you."

She turned around to leave.

"Wait!"

But the tawtute wasn't having any of it. And while she had no desire to linger, she nonetheless turned around to face the Sky Woman. A tawtute had demanded her attention. If she didn't provide it, the tawtute was liable to burn her entire village down. It certainly had the means at least.

"You…I mean…"

"Speak quickly Sky Woman."

"I mean, the na'vi," the tawtute said. "I remember hearing stories that you too were forged by the Shapers via the Anthem-"

"The People are the children of Eywa," Neytiri snapped. "No song shaped us."

"But…the Anthem shapes everything," the tawtute protested. "I mean, we were forged by it, and you were forged by it…"

Neytiri let out a hiss, her tail wagging.

"…and I'm sure that we all have different names for the Anthem," the tawtute said hurriedly.

Do I cause you fear Sky Woman? Neytiri wondered. Good.

"But, I mean, we thought that the urgoth wiped you out-"

"Speak no more of the urgoth," Neytiri snapped. "They are a tale designed to frighten us. Nothing more."

"But the urgoth are-"

"What is true is that the Sky People have brought us naught but misery," Neytiri said. "Long we remember the days when you flew not in clothing of metal, but in wyverns of steel. When fire and fury rained down upon us. Now you war among yourselves, but the People do not forget. And we offer no forgiveness."

"That…doesn't sound right," the tawtute said.

"Be that as it may, it is the truth. It is written in the history of Pandora."

"Pandora?"

"The world, tawtute," Neytiri snapped – killing the simpleton was becoming more and more attractive, consequences be damned. "You have eyes to see it, no?"

"Pandora," the tawtute said. "Amazing. You have a name for the world?"

Neytiri, letting her curiosity briefly overcome her rage, asked, "you have no name for the land on which we tread?"

"No. I mean, we know the continent is called Mirrus-"

"Continent?" Neytiri asked. "What's a continent?"

"The…land we're standing on?"

"The land is Pandora. Pandora is the world."

"Well, yes, but there's more than one continent and-"

"Enough, tawtute. I have no time for your stories. The hour is late, and the Cleaved Ones are liable to find us."

"Tawtute…" the Sky Woman said. "Cleaved Ones."

"Yes, tawtute, they have names. We all have names. Some, like us, have more than one."

"More than one?"

"Na'vi. People. Omaticaya. You have two, tawtute. The other is Sky People."

"But we're called humans."

"Human?"

"And by Cleaved Ones, do you mean Scars?"

"If you refer to the questions born of chaos, the insects that come from beyond the red storms tawtute, then yes, I do…human." The word sounded strange on her tongue, but she managed it. "The ones who, like you, have no place in this world."

The tawtute, the Sky Person, the human, rose an eyebrow.

"Surely you see it tawtute. You're out of size with the world. Without your metal beasts and clothing of steel, you would have long since perished."

"Some say that," the tawtute said. "Doesn't mean we don't have a home here."

"The stories of my people say you come from the sky. That you are invaders who called your conquest home." Neytiri sighed. "Stories perhaps, I grant you. Some versions of the story say that one of your kind took one of mine as mate – he who could shift between bodies, between skin the colour of the sea, and skin the colour of cloud. He who led us to victory."

"We have a story about being led to victory. Helena Tarsis-"

"Whatever the case, I have no interest in you," Neytiri said, though the lie was hard to swallow. She grabbed her knife and gestured to the sky. "Finish your war quickly Sky Woman. The longer you fight, the longer this world suffers, and the more tears of Eywa will be required to cleanse it."

And with that, she turned around. She doubted that the tawtute would attack her. Simpleton she might be, she could sense no malice in her heart.

"Thank you for helping me," the tawtute said.

Neytiri grunted.

"And you should know that the urgoth really are back."

Neytiri paused in her stride.

"And that if your people have the same history with them as mine…then maybe…"

"Stories, tawtute. Let us not be distracted from reality."

Neytri began walking again. Deep in thought.

Deep in fear.

A/N

So, awhile ago, I read a comment about how the setting of Anthem was similar to that of Pandora. I forget the details, but honestly I felt it was stretching it. As in, "forest and cliffs everywhere, ergo, Pandora." I mean, if you wanted to draw an actual point of comparison, you could point to how humans in Anthem are undersized compared to everything else (this isn't speculation, it's a stated plotpoint), whereas on Pandora, humans are similarly undersized because Earth has higher gravity.

Not really any big thing at the end of the day, but regardless, drabbled this up.