Two Worlds by TodaMarikosan
SUMMARY:Ever wondered how Grace and the other scientists found out that human DNA was compatible with Na'vi DNA? Well, here's an answer I came up with. The 18-year old son of Jake Sully and Neytiri meets a girl in the forest and they fall in love. There's just one problem. This girl holds great power and there are those in the human world who will stop at nothing to obtain her. Can Jake's son protect the girl he loves, or will Pandora be pulled into another war with the humans?
DISCLAIMER: The story and characters of the original Avatar belong to James Cameron. I take artistic license only for the characters and events that I have created for this story. I receive no monetary gains from this story.
Chapter One: That Fateful Day
It happened soon after he began his 18th year.
He was born to Neytiri, daughter of the late eyktan, and Jake Sully, current eyktan and the hero Toruk Mak'tao. His parents rejoiced at his birth and gave him the name Ma'kel. By the time he could walk, it was clear that while his appearance resembled that of his father's unnaturally made body, he had also inherited his mother's grace and awareness of the world around him. His childhood days were spent learning the ways of the Omaticaya, as well as the language of the Tawtute.
These days, Ma'kel was working towards the day when he would choose his own ikranand truly become one of the tribe. All the eligible females were showering him with attention, but he paid them no mind. Now, it wasn't that he had no interest in finding a mate; on the contrary, Ma'kel had seen the happiness his parents shared together, and he hoped to find a mate with whom he could share that same happiness. The only problem was that while there were many attractive unmated females, several of whom had been his friends since childhood, none of them stirred his heart the way he thought a mate should. Little did he know that his life as he knew it was about to change forever.
The day began much like any other. Ma'kel awoke at the break of dawn, gathered his things, and headed to the base of the Hometree to eat with his parents. As they ate fresh fruit and meat left over from last night's meal, Jake turned to his son and asked, "What do you plan to do today Ma'kel?" The young Na'vi looked up from his food, shrugged his shoulders, and answered, "I was thinking of scouting out some potential new hunting grounds north of the Hometree; the herds in our current grounds seem to be becoming smaller in number." His father nodded. "Very well, but make sure you're back before nightfall. The forest becomes even more dangerous after dark." Ma'kel bowed his head slightly in understanding. His mother, Neytiri, had told him many times the story of how she had met Jake when she saved him from viperdogs.
Having finished his meal, the young Na'vi excused himself and headed to the pen where the direhorses were kept. Unlike his father, who had fallen off many times when he was learning to ride, Ma'kel had turned out to be a natural at riding and handling direhorses. He first started riding during his tenth year; by the time he reached his 15th year, he was joining his father on the regular hunts. Nowadays, he was considered one of the best direhorse riders in the tribe, a title that he didn't like to boast about.
After collecting his weapons and things, Ma'kel mounted his direhorse and rode out to explore the area north of the Hometree. After about an hour of riding at an easy trot, he caught sight of a herd of wild deer-like game. Although this new herd didn't seem any greater in number than the herds in the current hunting grounds, upon closer inspection Ma'kel could see that these beasts were more well-fed than those in the other herds. Making a mental note of the herd's relative location, he continued on in hopes of finding more herds.
He hadn't left the herd very far behind, when he heard a noise, one that sounded like a scream. Bringing his direhorse to a halt, he listened intently, closing his eyes in order to focus his hearing. He had a hunch that whatever made the sound would do so again. He didn't have to wait long. Less than a moment later, he heard a voice, most likely a female's, cry out, "SOMEONE HELP ME!" Turning his direhorse in the direction of the voice, Ma'kel took off at a gallop. He knew that someone was in trouble. He also knew that whoever that someone was, they spoke in the language of the Tawtute instead of the language of the Na'vi.
Within a few minutes, Ma'kel found the source of the scream. A lone figure, wearing a strange garment that covered the body from head to toe, was being chased by a pack of viperdogs. The figure was starting to tire, and the pack was closing in fast. Without hesitation, Ma'kel spurred his direhorse towards the fleeing figure. From a distance, the figure looked like one of the few Tawtute allowed to stay after the war, one that had foolishly gotten lost in the forest alone. However, as he closed the distance between them, Ma'kel realized that this shrouded creature had height nearly equal to his. Also, unlike the Na'vi, who ran with their bodies angled somewhat towards the ground; or the Tawtute, who, his father had said, ran with their bodies almost as straight as a tree trunk, this creature ran with its body bent midway, the head and torso leaning forward, while, what Ma'kel assumed were its arms, stretched out behind it like vines being blown about by strong winds.
Putting those thoughts aside for later, Ma'kel guided his direhorse until he was alongside the cloaked figure. "Grab on!" he shouted in Tawtute, reaching his arm out towards the figure. The creature cocked its head towards his voice, and from within the garment a pale hand reached out and grasped his with a strong grip. Without pausing, Ma'kel pulled the figure up to sit behind him on the direhorse. "Hold tight to me," he instructed in Tawtute. Less than a moment later, he felt strong slender arms wrap around his chest. Spurring his mount on, Ma'kel headed back towards the Hometree.
Author's Note: A horse trotting is much like a human jogging: faster than a walk, but slower than a run. A trot is also very bouncy (at least for the rider).