I'm so, so sorry everyone! This is a day late! I feel super bad, and yes, I will attempt to get a new chapter up tomorrow (I can't make any promises...) on time. This chapter is pretty intense (I think) so hopefully that helps a little. ANYWAYS.
Thankyou so, so much to claycarole and Bigoldfrog for my Chapter Two reviews! They were both amazing. And thanks to Sailor Sacred Moon and Random the Na'vi for your subscriptions (both subscribed today, actually!).
I also wanted to make a shoutout to the international readers (I love the U.S. ones too, of course). Don't get me wrong, I love you all and I think it's amazing that you're so far away and all, but especially the few from Norway. I have an aunt and grandma that live in Bergen and I hope you're all alright after what that horrible person did. You're in my prayers every day.
... On that happy note, enough of my talking! Hope you enjoy!
"Ninat, Eywa has spoken to me. She has said that the singer will heal the wounded Omaticaya. I believe you are this singer," Mo'at explained gently. My eyes widened. This was much to take in, though spoken in so few words.
"Eywa spoke of me? But what am I to sing? Who am I to heal? How will song heal the Omaticaya? Why me," I asked in rapid succession, my mind too crowded with questions to wait for answers. Mo'at gazed at me with mild chastisement, and I checked myself. "I'm sorry," I murmured. "I do not doubt Eywa, but I cannot understand why a song from me, a mere child, could be of help to the injured and ill," I explained. Mo'at looked at me fiercely.
"Child, Ninat, since we saw the bird, the Omaticaya has doubted all that we supposed we understood of this world. Do you know what is left when we are stripped to the bones of our survival? Eywa. She is the essence of our existence and lives. She is our mother and she will provide. You do not dare to doubt her, especially now. She. Will. Provide!" I gaped at Mo'at for just a moment before truly thinking of her words. Quietly I nodded.
"Yes," I whispered, closing my eyes in a prayer. "Eywa will provide." I prayed that I was truly the one Eywa had chosen. "I will do as she has guided. Mo'at, may I choose my beginning path?"
I stood clutching Peyral's hand at the bedside of her mother. All four of Peyral's brothers and sisters stood with her father on the other side of the sickbed. Mo'at's chant echoed, seemed to reach through me and shake the foundations of the Kelutral.
"Eywa, see your daughter, see your sons and daughters, see your children that seek your will! Eywa, see the answers to our prayers, see the singer you have foretold, and speak to her heart. Eywa, see your daughter, and through you, may she be healed," Mo'at shouted the last word clearly, and I felt a stirring deep within my soul. What was the song? Mo'at had refused to tell me-but a whisper resounded through me.
The song in your soul.
So I sang a wordless song that only Eywa understood. The song was fear and pain and bitterness, yet it was beautiful, for Eywa gave it to me. I knew that the song of Eywa would never truly end, and I had not been the one to begin it, but I did my part unguided and without an instrument, and did not stop until I felt Peyral's hand tighten fiercely on mine.
"Mother," she gasped, and watched as the coughing slowly stopped, and her mother lay peacefully sleeping. Mo'at gazed at the woman on the bed.
"The fever is broken."
Peyral let out a little sob and embraced me tightly. I clutched her for the first time in so long, my traces of loneliness leaking away from me. Mo'at gently took my shoulder.
"Eywa has called you for more than just once," she reminded me gently. I let go of Peyral and she gave me a tear filled look.
"Thank Eywa for you, Ninat," she whispered, and I saw her father and sister with words on their lips, but Mo'at pulled me away.
"It will keep, brother," she told Peyral's father, and took me to Txilte's ward.
Eywa sang through me, and wounds ceased to fester, fevers broke. I saw Mo'at's lips moving in prayer for more doors to be opened, for the Omaticaya to understand what had truly been her intent.
"Ninat, go and drink. Words cannot express the gratitude I have to you. You gave yourself to Eywa, child. You have been blessed," Mo'at whispered, and I trembled at the words.
As soon as I emerged from the ward, Neytiri ran to me.
"Ninat, Ninat! I have heard! The Omaticaya has heard! Eywa has heard us, Ninat, through you," she cried, embracing me. I just clutched her back, so happy to have regained my friend.
"Neytiri, I have missed you," I told her in a sigh.
"As I you," she told me. "Have you seen Peyral?" I nodded.
"Her mother is cured," I said simply, and Neytiri's eyes shone with pride and admiration. "I must go and drink, but I will talk to you later-perhaps with Peyral as well," I smiled, and she went in search for Peyral as I walked towards the roots.
The shadow fell on me as I emerged from the hometree. I do not know if the screams were my own or my peoples, but they shattered the fragile peace of purpose I had been grasping.
The bird had returned.
We hid behind the roots of the tree while Ateyo lead our bravest warriors to face it, but the bird did something none of us would have foreseen. It perched on the ground in front of our home.
I found myself crouched among Tsu'tey and his friends, looking with wide eyes towards the bird. What horror would it bring? The hometree sounded like a nest of vipers with all the hissing and terror.
"Tsu'tey? Have you seen Neytiri, or Peyral, or my mother? I am afraid," I whispered to him. He turned to glance at me, and seemed about to speak to me when there was a sound.
All eyes and ears turned towards the horrible bird, and we watched as its stomach began to split and seemingly float to the ground. The warriors gave a hesitant shout of victory, for surely this meant its death, but the shout was short lived. For shadowed shapes began to emerge from the belly of the beast.
They were strange and small, and among them walked large things of the same color as the bird. Their skins ranged from peachy yellow to deep earth brown, surely they were very ill. Their faces were bulging and shone, and through the first layer of shining, I saw features that seemed to resemble the face of the Na'vi, but with small and shrunken features. They kept advancing towards us, and Ateyo led his warriors towards them, to see what they were.
As soon as the warriors moved, the strange things rapidly re-formed. They all carried a gray sort of stick, bulky in some cases, and they were all pointed towards Ateyo. A harsh voice rang out from one of the taller, gray beings. I could not understand it, but the creatures reformed, and their gray sticks were relaxed. The same harsh voice rang out from the gray being-perhaps he was their Olo'eyktan, I wondered. A series of strange sounds proceeded from him, and I saw Eytukan glance at Mo'at and start forward.
"Creatures of Eywa, where have you come from, what are you," he asked in a strong and clear voice. "Why are you allied with the bird that has destroyed so much of the Omaticaya?"
There was much movement in the group as they looked at him blankly. The Olo'eyktan of their band stepped forward as if to harm him, and the warriors surged to protect him. This caused instant movement from the other beings, who pointed the gray things back at my people again. A new voice rang out from their ranks, higher in tone. Perhaps female? Did the beings have gender?
Whatever it, she, said, the Olo'eyktan stepped back. I understood, she must have been their Tsahik. To my shock, she began to speak in broken Na'vi.
"You I see, Eywa people. We come learn, search," she used a strange word I did not understand, but gestured to a stone in her hand. It was common here, but I didn't understand its importance. "Bird is not, is carrying us place we go."
Mo'at stepped forward, for Tsahiks must speak with one another.
"Where have you learned our language? Why did you destroy our people," she demanded. The Tsahik shook her head, only able to answer part of the question.
"Tipani, Salume teach me only. No trust for," she used another word I did not know, but gestured to her people. Mo'at pursed her lips. The Tsahik of our neighbors, the Tipani, was known for her wisdom. Were we to trust these strange beings?
Eytukan stepped forward.
"Please, woman of the sky, tell your Olo'eyktan and the sky people that I and the Tsahik will speak with you and he privately," he commanded. The woman nodded hesitantly and told this to her mate in their strange language. He responded in a harsh tone, but when she answered commandingly, his face seemed to collapse. I realized the strange gray beings were just the same as the other tawtute. Perhaps this was their armor? I wondered why they had come with armor when it was they who had hurt us from the beginning.
The tawtute Olo'eyktan descended from his armor and walked with the tawtute Tsahik under the roots of the Kelutral into Eytukan's dwelling place, leaving the rest of the Omaticaya and tawtute to wait.
Well? Good, bad, mediocre(shudder...)? Let me know please! Because
1. The critique is very very helpful and I do take it into account.
2. Writing about things that Ninat doesn't understand is very difficult.
4. I LOVE YOUR REVIEWS SO MUCH. They make my day!
5. There was no number three. :)
