The month following their son's birth seemed to fly by Jake and Neytiri. The baby slept a great deal of course, and needed to nurse often. Both of them wanted to give Mo'at plenty of time with her new grandson. The improvement in the Tsahik's spirits was striking, giving her a new purpose that had been very badly needed. Omatikaya were soon seeking out Jake and Neytiri privately to comment on how good the child was for Eytukan's mate, and how greatly her improved demeanor showed as she performed her duties as Tsahik to the clan.
One result of this however, was that the Olo'eyctan was constantly itching for more time with his son. Neytiri gave the boy to his father one morning commenting that she wanted to have her hair tended to. Jake gleefully encouraged her to take all the time she wanted and promptly disappeared with the baby in his arms.
She had a lovely relaxing time, bathing and then having her braids undone, her hair washed, and then having it re-braided. By the time she was finished she knew that the baby would soon be hungry again, so she started looking for her mate. Neytiri looked in all the usual spots; his 'office,' the sleeping-niche they shared, the nantang-ball area, and came up empty. One of the fruit gatherers coming in with a loaded carry-net saw her looking around and directed her to a spot on the riverbank near the clay pit.
She headed for the sunny patch and finally found her mate and child, both fast asleep in a patch of fragrant grasses near the water's edge. Jake was stretched out in the grass on his back, his shoulders supported by the gentle slope of the bank. The baby was peacefully sleeping on his father's broad chest, the man's hands gently steadying the child. Neytiri moved as quietly as she could and sat down next to the pair with happy tears flowing down her face, content to sit and watch them until they woke.
The excitement that the Omatikaya had felt at the birth of the Olo'eyktan's and future-Tsahik's child found a new focus in the weeks after Jak'itan's arrival. After many months of careful, painstaking work, the very first weaving project on the clan's new Mother Loom was nearing completion.
Tsa'rit and his helpers had done an incredible job, creating a work such as no Omatikaya had ever seen before. He had been so inspired by the Song of the Sixth Toruk Makto that First Singer Pohtey had composed that he'd determined to take the vision it had created in his head and make it visible to everyone. When mas'kit ni'vi sa'nok was finished and the Clan Elders had gathered to decide who would get to create the very first work on the new Mother Loom, he had shown them a prototype of the tapestry he intended to create by using dyes on a clear piece of heavy cloth to show them the picture he had in mind. The decision of the elders had been unanimous.
Now the great work was ready to be separated from the loom. Wood-workers had created two beautifully carved straight poles to be used at the top and bottom of the finished piece to support it. The entire clan gathered in excitement as Tsa'rit bound off the final warp threads and secured them to the top pole.
The weaver stepped back and gestured to the four burly Na'vi who held the pole ends. They carefully lifted their burden free of the loom, rolled the weaving onto the bottom pole so that it would not drag on the ground, and followed Tsa'rit up the nearest of the two central spirals in New Hometree. The crowd below shifted excitedly to more clearly see the unveiling.
The five stopped at a point on the spiral directly above the skull of Palulukan on its display stand. Tsa'rit secured the strong rope connecting the ends of the top pole to a natural projection on the tree trunk and gestured to the two holding the top pole to carefully release it. He adjusted the positioning of the guy rope as it took weight. He stood up when he was satisfied and gestured to the other two Na'vi.
Ropes were carefully attached to the ends of the bottom pole, and the two men let the lines play out slowly so that the weaving unrolled evenly. The guy rope creaked a bit as it took up the weight of the heavy tapestry. The Omatikaya waiting in anticipation below watched as the great picture unfurled before their eyes little by little.
The top of the picture was the jet black of the starry night sky through which Eywa had reached to bring Toruk Makto to Pandora. It merged with the image of black smoke rising on either side of a fiery depiction of Old Hometree lying on the ground aflame. The crushed greenery under the Tree merged with the lush jungle across the bottom of the tapestry, through which Palulukan raced with a Na'vi riding atop his back. The very center of the piece was a sunburst done in all the colors of flame – and Toruk emerged from the very heart of the fire with his wings spread wide, Toruk Makto on his back.
The entire clan cheered wildly, roaring approval at the top of their lungs when the full image had been revealed. Tsa'rit spent a few minutes ensuring that the hanging was secure before coming down off of the spiral to view it for himself. He was congratulated, hugged, cheered, and touched by most of his fellow clansmen before he could get into a position to view it properly. The crowd quieted a bit as the artist took his first look at the finished work. They all saw his happy and relieved nod, indicating that he was pleased.
Mo'at and Weaver Elder Geran came forward to congratulate him, and then all three led a ceremony of blessing for the new banner. The Omatikaya celebrated long into the night, proud of their crafters, their New Hometree, their Clan, and their Toruk Makto.
Jake and Neytiri stood quietly to one side (though they were up front and very visible) with their son throughout the entire event. The Olo'eyktan was quite relaxed the whole time; he understood that this was not about him, but rather an expression of profound thanksgiving to Eywa that She had cared for Her children through the most catastrophic event the Omatikaya had seen in millenia and brought them safely to a new home.
The marine was quite content as he held his infant son and watched his clansman celebrate.
