Chapter 2

Kicking up soil from the forest floor with each step as he wandered aimlessly through the trees, Ash'teth barely looked around him, gaze focused on the ground in irritation. This time he didn't particularly care that he didn't know where he was going; he just wanted to get as far away from Hometree as possible, especially since he thought he might hit something - or someone - if he was treated like a simple child one more time. His frantic news that humans had been seen barely five miles from the village had been dismissed with the tone of someone speaking to a five-year-old: "That's nice, already know. Now go off and play." Despite being just four months away from his twenty-first birthday, Ash'teth couldn't shake the feeling that he had always been and would always be treated like an infant.

It's all Kanali's fault, he grumbled silently, absently poking a spiral-shaped loreyu plant nearby and watching as its huge, curled orange leaf vanished into the ground in an instant. If my stupid, perfect older brother hadn't gone off and left to be some amazingly fantastic warrior somewhere, I wouldn't be the only male left in the family with all the responsibility on my shoulders. They all expect me to become a warrior, to fight for them, and I just don't think I can do it.

As he slowed and came to a stop, shoulders slumping with resignation as he realised he was wrong, he considered that it wasn't all to do with Kanali. Yes, his twenty-five-year-old brother had left the Omaticaya to become a warrior for the fearsome clans of the eastern seas, and their family spoke about him with awe and reverence whenever his name was mentioned, but Ash'teth knew it was simply the difference in their personalities that made him so unwilling to go the same way. His brother was brave and strong; Ash'teth… well, wasn't.

"I'm a bloody stupid wimp," he snapped under his breath, slapping the flat surfaces of several unfortunate nearby leaves and watching as they lit up with bright cyan luminescence. Several fan lizards lifted off from the undergrowth nearby and he jumped and stepped back slightly as they drifted in magenta and yellow circles to land several metres away and vanish again. After a moment, he let a wry smile cross his face, realising he was simply being stupid. Self-pity was going to get him nowhere. He was walking through Pandora's tranquil and beautiful forest, night was falling, and everything was still. He had nothing to complain about and everything to be grateful for.

The telltale glistening of water visible through the trees ahead led him to the edge of a small lake under the sheltered canopy of several eyaye trees, their red stripes pointing down towards the water's surface. Pulling his bow and quiver off his back and laying them on the ground beside him, Ash'teth knelt down on the bank and untied the knot that held the cloth across his right eye taut, letting it fall to the floor. He trailed his hands through the cool water, running them across his face and letting out a soft gasp as its coldness chilled his skin. Shaking the excess off, water droplets falling from his fringe, he leant over the lake's surface and peered into it. A boyish face looked back at him, one eye bright yellow-green and lucid, the other pale and milky with blindness. Vicious scars streaked across the entire right side of his face and the bridge of his nose, the bioluminescent markings destroyed. He was easily spotted in the dark due to the glowing dots that only spread across half his face; on his chest, shoulders and arms there were occasional gaps with no markings there either, due to the ferocious attack that had caused the scars he would have for life. Ash'teth's hair was black like most Na'vis', falling just past his shoulders, the tips flicking outwards in a manner he had never really understood himself, and tinted red with dyes he had created himself. His family disapproved, but he paid no attention; red was his favourite colour, and besides, tinting the tips of his hair such a vibrant shade drew attention away from his scarred face. Two longer locks of hair in front of his ears fell to his chest, each bound twice partway down for practicality; he had chosen to grow his hair like that, but only loosened it at festivities and celebrations when he was required to make himself more presentable. Several small braids mixed in among the rest fell around his face and shoulders, and of course at the back the metre-long queue the Na'vi were known for fell past his waist.

In personality, Ash'teth had always been a little shy; he didn't know why, he just guessed it was a part of who he was. Modesty wasn't the best trait for a Na'vi to possess, however, due to their general lack of clothing. Ash'teth always tried to discreetly layer on more accessories than other Na'vi his age; such as leather bands around the stomach, wrapped material around his forearms and lower legs, and feathered necklaces. He loved feathers, and always had done, ever since he had made a toy ikran as a child and spent days painstakingly stitching them onto its wings. He still couldn't believe no one had noticed that the long reddish-purple feather he wore in the piercing on his left ear had come from the arrows he was meant to be fletching several months ago. It was the same with the feathers that decorated his necklace and queue; he hadn't been able to resist taking them for his own when he had been left alone and instructed to make arrows for the day, but he had been sheepish and guilt-ridden for several days afterwards. It wasn't in his nature to steal, but for once he was glad he had. No one else had quite so many brightly-coloured feathers decorating their jewellery and accessories.

Wiping the remaining droplets of water on his face off with one of the fabric straps around his forearms, Ash'teth tied the tan cloth that covered his right eye back on again and sat back with a soft sigh of contentment. He was meant to be helping a family who slept near his own fix their hammock later - sometimes he resented his own parents for boasting about his ability to put together almost anything; perhaps, he considered wryly, because it was the only talent he had - but until then he had a couple of hours to himself. Getting to his feet, he gathered up his bow and quiver and slung them over his back again, heading further into the trees and humming softly under his breath as he did so. A few minutes later and the sounds of the busy village as they prepared the evening meal had faded, to be replaced by the soft whinnying of direhorses grazing not far off and the rustling of prolemuris swinging through the canopy of trees above. The forest came alive at night, both in activity and appearance. Bioluminescence cast stunning glows of cyan, magenta and green across almost every surface, lending a soft, almost haunting aura to the atmosphere. Ash'teth knew without looking down at himself that he had become a part of it too; the dots that covered the bodies of all Na'vi, each one possessing their own distinctive pattern, lit up at night with the same glow, proclaiming their presence to any other passing members of their clan - but this also had its dangers. They would be spotted easily from a distance by any predators wandering the forest; however, fortunately most of Pandora's fauna also possessed bioluminescent markings so they would be seen just as easily.

Studying every detail of the forest around him - despite his age, he always felt like a child again when awestruck by its beauty - Ash'teth was so deep in thought that he didn't see the small dark shape lying on the ground in front of him until he fell over it. With a startled yelp he pitched forwards and only managed to regain his balance by using a tree to counterbalance his momentum. Cursing, he readjusted his bow and turned to give the offending object - which now, he could see, was a piece of fruit - a venomous glare, then realised what it was and blinked in surprise. Lying on the ground, now looking remarkably innocent, was an utu mauti - a push fruit, an extreme rarity. They grew at incredible heights in the trees and so it took a lot of effort on the clan's part to collect them; finding one in one piece on the ground was considered to be lucky.

Hm. Maybe it's a good omen, Ash'teth considered as he bent down to retreive it. He studied it for a moment, then grimaced. Then again, as the custom goes, I have to offer it to someone else out of politeness. I know that they, in return, are then meant to politely refuse it, but… with my distinct lack of popularity, what's the betting whoever I have to offer it to will take the thing?

He paused for a long moment, torn in indecision. Eventually, with a feeling of rebellion in his stomach - accompanied by a distinct rumbling that let him know he was more than a little hungry - Ash'teth moved to take a bite-

Then let out a wordless yell of alarm as a huge reptilian head snaked out of nowhere, grabbed the fruit and swallowed it in one gulp. Almost landing on his backside in shock, Ash'teth attempted to recover himself and looked up, torn between indignation and trepidation at what horrific creature he might see. When he saw what it was, he couldn't help but laugh with relief.

"Txep'renu! What are you doing here?"

The ikran let out a soft growl that sounded somewhat like a purr and nudged his shoulder; obediently, Ash'teth stroked his head, then realised he really shouldn't be rewarding him for stealing his supper and playfully slapped the creature's jaw.

"Skxawng. That was my food you just polished off."

Txep'renu gave him a look that he read perfectly as a satisfied "I know" before affectionately ruffling his hair with his breath. Making a face, Ash'teth wrapped his arms around the creature's neck and leapt agilely up on his back, resting his hands on the ikran's shoulders.

"I don't have your harness with me, sorry. You still OK to fly?"

Txep'renu tossed his head; Ash'teth could practically hear him saying "Duh". Smiling, he reached behind him to pick up his queue and placed the tip next to one of the ikran's long antenna; the neural tendrils inside the two quested towards one another for a moment before connecting, wrapping around each other tightly. Ash'teth blinked at the sudden rush of feelings, of energy, that always swept through him whenever he and Txep'renu first linked; it was called tsahaylu, literally, 'the bond'. Txep'renu would fly with Ash'teth and only Ash'teth; that was how it would always be. It wasn't like with the direhorses - yes, tsahaylu was completed with them as well, but they would allow anyone to ride them. Txep'renu was here only for Ash'teth, and he couldn't be more grateful to have him. Even when everything else seemed to be falling apart, he only had to join with Txep'renu and fly, and everything would feel right again.

The ikran didn't need any instruction; with a deep breath, a sudden rush of wings, he was into the air, powerful muscles surging as he rose higher and higher into the deepening dusk. Effortlessly holding on to the huge creature's antennae, Ash'teth laughed out loud; the thrill of flight never ceased to amaze him and probably never would. It was worth it; even though sometimes he saw his reflection and hated what looked back at him, he knew easily that it had all been worth it.

He had been seventeen on his first attempt at completing tsahaylu with an ikran. Even three years later, the memory was still vivid; standing on that narrow precipice in the Skycliffs, legs trembling, mouth dry with fear, meresh'ti cau'pla - or banshee catcher - held in one shaking hand. He had known then he wasn't ready, but no one had listened. They had pushed him into it along with the other would-be warriors his age, had sent him miles into the sky on those dangerous and legendary floating mountains to fight and bond with an ikran, to fly. And it had all gone so disastrously wrong.

Seeing the relative success of the few others who had gone before him, Ash'teth had been imbued with a faint hope that maybe he could succeed at this after all. And so, when it was his turn, he had crept into the territory of the ikran, hesitantly walking into their midst, watching as their sharp eyes and massive retilian heads swung towards him to take in this new challenge. Many had lifted off and dived from the edge of the cliffs, and still others had simply fallen asleep where they lay, apparently too unimpressed by this young, scrawny Na'vi to even bother trying to fight him. But one had fixed him in its gaze, refusing to back away, and foolishly he had leapt straight at it, grasping onto the hope that it was the one; realising that he wasn't ready, that he had made this journey for nothing and there was no ikran here for him, would be too humiliating. He had heard the shouts and cheers of his fellow Na'vi behind him, as if standing around of a play-fight, as if his life wasn't in danger. After that, everything was vague. He remembered the massive creature, cyan wings spreading to block out the sun, leaping towards him, jaws agape. He remembered being hurled to the ground, crying out and struggling for breath as its huge weight pressed down on his chest. And then nothing.

He had woken several days later in a hammock back in the branches of Hometree, blinking with confusion as his gaze met that of several concerned clan members who had watched over his recovery. It was than that he had realised he had lost the sight in his right eye, and with it, almost all of his confidence and courage - or rather, the little he had had in the first place. Embarrassed to show his face, with its blank right eye and stark, vicious scars, he had distanced himself from everyone he knew, even his own family. He covered his eye with a strip of cloth and attempted to avert his gaze from everyone he came across, scared of becoming known as the runty, scrawny Na'vi boy who was so useless he couldn't even bond with an ikran, the most recogniseable triumph of a warrior. For a long time he hadn't even approached the clan's direhorses, having gained a fear of animals of any kind. Instead he delved into the abilities he had had since he was a child, the skill of making almost anything he chose to from bark, leaves, leather - anything. It was the only true skill he'd ever possessed, and he treasured it. Bit by bit, he had become closer to the clan again, mingling with them to help others fix broken weapons or string up hammocks, and the incident of his failed bonding had been, if not completely forgotten, sent over time to the back of everyone's minds. For three years he had been determined that he would never go near another ikran again, that he didn't need one to live his life. But he was lonely, no matter how many children whose toys he helped to mend, no matter how many broken fishing spears he fixed for the people of his clan. And when they had eventually persuaded him to try again, he had resigned himself grimly to his fate, already convinced it was all about to go wrong all over again.

He had been wrong. This time, he succeeded. The memories were sharp, and this time he wanted them to be. The startlingly fire-coloured ikran, smaller than the others, lithe and agile, spreading its wings in challenge. Ash'teth darting under its snapping jaw, diving up onto its back to hurl his meresh'ti cau'pla and trap the creature's head in its grip. His queue linking with its antenna, the sudden calming of the ikran's flanks under him. The first flight.

He had named his ikran Txep'renu, which meant 'fire pattern'. People were often commenting that the two of them were made to be bonded; Ash'teth couldn't help but think wryly that they probably meant because both Na'vi and ikran were small, runty and incredibly distinctive to look at, with Txep'renu's striking red and orange markings and Ash'teth's scars, but it was also the way they worked together that made it right. Flying with Txep'renu was effortless, their minds working together as one. Even Ash'teth's distinctly lacking fighting skills had improved since they had bonded, his aiming with a bow much better without the distractions of the closed-in forest around him. He had never told anyone, but deep down he believed they had been made for tsahaylu as well; as a child, the toy ikran he had created - as every Na'vi child did - had been red, whereas most others' had been blue or green. Ash'teth was a great believer in fate, and even as the first ikran he had fought had bore down on him with massive jaws snapping, cyan wings blotting out the sun, he had thought deep down, This is wrong.

But he didn't need to think about any of that now. He had Txep'renu, and everything else he had left behind could be forgotten. Shaking his head, Ash'teth glanced down over the ikran's shoulder to see the dense forests giving way to rocky mountainsides and slopes below. Reluctantly, he patted Txep'renu's neck, wordlessly communicating through their linked queues that it was time to go back, and with obedience but the same unwillingness as his master, the creature banked, wheeled round and turned to go home.

Ash'teth kept his sharp gaze on the forest far below until his sensitive vision caught sight of the faint glistening of the pool he had sat by earlier. Silently understanding, Txep'renu angled his wings and began to descend in a lazy spiral, aiming for a clearer area of ground on the forest floor not far from the small lake, where he would have space to land safely. Ash'teth got to his feet on the ikran's back, balancing almost perfectly, before pulling his queue from Txep'renu's antenna and leaping off just before the creature's talons touched ground, leaping swiftly out of the way for Txep'renu to land in a rush of wings. The ikran gave Ash'teth a look that clearly meant, "Show-off."

"I know, I'm wonderful." Ash'teth grinned and patted the creature's head before turning and beginning to head back in the direction of Hometree. "Come on, we'll get you settled in bed and then I'll go and find those people whose hammock I'm meant to be fixing. Hope I'm not late - I lost track of time…"

He rambled in this way as the two of them walked back through the trees, bathed in cyan and magenta bioluminescence. Txep'renu's head was lowered so as not to hit it on any overhanging tree branches and his wings were folded in tightly as they navigated through the forest. Ash'teth always talked continuously about everything and anything when with his ikran, even though he suspected Txep'renu wasn't listening most of the time, or just thought, in his good-natured way, Ash'teth's chatter tiresome and boring. He didn't mind; it was good just to babble about everything that was going on in his mind to someone who wouldn't judge him. Even if he didn't get a response for his one-sided conversations, he enjoyed their walks through the forest. He just wished there was someone else he could spend time with and feel completely comfortable - someone from his own kind.

It'll happen at some point. You'll find someone, Ash'teth told himself reassuringly, as he always did when the worrying thought that he might end up alone forever nagged at him, but as always he couldn't quite make himself believe it.

The two of them weren't far from Hometree when a distinct rustling from the trees to their right made Ash'teth's feline ears lift with concentration and Txep'renu emit a low growl of warning. It was probably another Na'vi returning from errands, or a harmless stingbat, but it didn't hurt to check. Patting Txep'renu's jaw reassuringly to silently communicate that he should stay there, Ash'teth pulled his bow from his back, nocked an arrow and pulled the string taut before heading as silently as possible in the direction the sound had come from, footsteps almost inaudible on the thick underbrush of the forest floor. Warily he looked to and fro as he walked, always aware of his own disadvantages when it came to having no vision on his right side, and was so deep in concentration watching for large predators that he was caught completely unawares when a shape suddenly leapt out the trees with a strangled war cry and swung a spear straight at his face.