Laila felt like she was suffocating, unable to draw a breath into her lungs or even remember what air tasted like. Her heart and body were encased in ice, as if the cold had seeped into her very soul, while the world around her was nothing but a distorted blur of color and sound. Amidst the chaos, she could make out the blue shapes of Na'vi figures working in unison mere feet away from her; however, details of their features were too blurred for recognition. Faintly, she heard conversations bouncing off the trees in an incomprehensible echo, accompanied by a dull ring that came and went as it pleased.
Fear had wormed its way through Laila's body long before she and Tsu'tey arrived at the Hallelujah Mountains. A group of Na'vi had already begun their work. Rock after rock after metal – little shavings of stone and iron and dirt - they dug their way through the rubble of the shack, inching closer and closer to what they all knew lay beneath. They were careful, but they did not have to be. The destruction was so much worse than how Laila remembered. She had told herself there was still hope - that somewhere on the other side of the barricade, their pods were still intact. That somehow, they were alive.
They were not.
The remains of the once proud edifice lay in utter ruin, its walls crumpled like a discarded piece of paper. A devastating reminder that there could be no survivors. Metal shards were strewn across the ground like broken memories, leaving no doubt that this was once a man-made destruction. The only living, breathing thing left was Laila's own body, laid low amidst the gravesite rubble.
The Na'vi had already recovered the Avatars. They remained seemingly untouched by death. If she dared to, Laila could have convinced herself that they were only sleeping. Bright fluorescent flowers, fresh green vines, and tiny purple roots cradled their bodies, seeming to protect them from the elements. The vines traced along every line and curve of their bodies as though drawing them into this beautiful morgue created by nature, preserving them in an eternal slumber.
Laila did not look upon them for long. She refused to take any step closer. She was too terrified to even capture a glimpse of their faces. She had no strength left within her to do so.
A Na'vi's voice cut through the air like a razor blade, drawing an eerie silence over the clan members. Laila knew what he had found before anyone else had. The pod was visible under a layer of shrubbery, its corner barely sticking out.
The ringing in her ears began again, this time louder and more insistent. Three Na'vi pried open the pod with their weapons, and finally the truth revealed itself for all to see. But Laila could not bear witness, nor utter a word in response. Her body shook with fear. Her heart pounded against her ribcage as if it wanted to break free from its prison of fleshy walls and bone. Her feet carried her away without direction, far away from the clearing
Laila stumbled over her feet in a desperate attempt to escape the scene. The grass whipped at her legs, yet she considered this no slight. A thick weight dragged against her chest with every breath she took. Her heart ached as it tried desperately to fill her lungs with air and slow down its frenzied beating. This did not work either. Images flashed behind heavy-lidded eyes - images of what she so desperately tried to convince herself was not true for weeks.
Flash, flash, flash.
Her stomach convulsed and bile rose in her throat. Laila bent forward and vomited into the grass. Exertion speckled her face with sweat. The force of relieving herself had somewhat brought her back to her senses, though her vision remained blurry from tears caused by bile running down the back of her throat. She wiped the back of her hand against her lips. The woman sighed, and everything left her at once. She was nothing. Only numb. The rustling in the foliage behind her was deafening in contrast to the nothingness around her. Someone had approached her, and she did not have to guess who it was.
She turned to face Tsu'tey. He stood so close behind her, far closer than she first realized. Had he seen her weakness? From the strangely saddened look within his yellow eyes, she assumed he had. The two said nothing for a long time. Laila wondered if he was thinking of something to say; an apology for something so cruel that no one could have stopped.
"I… I did believe they were still alive," she choked out. She hadn't planned on speaking, but the words left her lips before she could stop them. Every word was a battle between her mind and heart - denying the truth, but feeling every ounce of despair as it slowly sank in. She had carried hope within her since the day they had been separated. She had clung to the possibility of reuniting with her comrades, but deep down, she knew that could never be true. As reality hit, waves of sadness crashed through her body, threatening to drown her in grief. Nothing made sense any more. And just like that, she was no longer numb. She felt everything.
The sobs began as a gentle whimper. A sound so strange and out of place within Laila's body that the woman did not recognize it at first. She buckled and choked on a sob and her eyes tightened in frustration. Tsu'tey was quick to react. He lunged forward and grabbed her before she could fall over, wrapping his arms around her back and pulling her close to him. Laila let out another round of heart-wrenching cries into his chest. The sound of each long wail that escaped her lips was like a crack of thunder.
Tsu'tey rocked back and forth slowly, rubbing circles into her back with one hand and stroking her hair with the other. He tried desperately to console her, but he had never been in this situation before with a woman crying in his arms. He wasn't sure how to help her or what would work and switched frequently between different comforting methods in the hopes that something would work, yet nothing did. Laila tucked herself close to him and curled in on herself, blinded by the warrior's desperate solace. She cried, and cried, and cried.
She couldn't say how long they stayed like that, but it felt like ages. Eventually, the flow of her tears slowed to a stop, and she was left feeling numb once more. Tsu'tey helped her to her feet and steered her back in the direction they had come. Internally, she fought back wave upon wave of anxiety at the thought of seeing the destruction once again. She was quick to realize he wasn't leading her back to the wreckage, but instead towards his Ikran. Without uttering a single word, he effortlessly lifted and seated her on the creature's broad back once again. With one strong flap of its wings, they accelerated into the sky and away from the destruction below. She held onto Tsu'tey tightly, burying her flushed face against his spine as if to hide herself away from the world. The wild wind dashed through her hair while she sat in silent disbelief as the grand branches of Hometree slowly reappeared in the distance.
With still no words spoken, they descended into a small clearing just outside Hometree. Tsu'tey spoke to his Ikran and the creature took off back into the sky, disappearing high within the treetops. Laila followed the warrior into the confines of the clan and back inside the medicine room - a room that held so much comfort and familiarity even though it had once acted as her prison. It was a prison now, yet the animal pelts in which she buried herself within brought her some relief.
Her heart felt like it was being ripped apart, yet no amount of tears would let this pain release. So, she refused to cry. She curled her body into a tight, immovable ball and stared straight ahead. The rough bark of the tree seemed to mock her with its patterns as she ran her eyes over them, counting the numberless bug holes that pierced its surface. The smell of dried herbs seeped through her senses, mixing with the soft leather of the pelts she laid upon - anything to distract her from the events that had nearly broken her spirit.
Some time had passed, yet Laila had no sense for it. She was completely engrossed in watching a beetle in its painfully slow trek up the wall when her ears picked up on the sound of footsteps. Unsurprisingly, the first voice she recognized was that of Tsu'tey. There was another, feminine voice, yet Laila was unsure of who it belonged to. They whispered to one another with a quieted urgency, somewhat close to argumentative. Their voices went silent, then there were footsteps again. The Na'vi was soft-footed, leaving behind hardly a scuff as they crept into the medicine room. Even as they came to a stop just inches from her, Laila did not move. She refused to acknowledge their presence, even when they spoke. "Up." It was Nevaeh.
Laila did not move for many seconds. Then, painstakingly slow, she lifted herself into a sitting position, but she moved no further. Her yellow eyes refused to remove their gaze from the floor and Laila's ears flattened against her skull pitifully. She did not want to speak to anyone, especially Nevaeh. Laila stared at the ground in despair, her body as still as the tree surrounding them. Laila felt the familiar heat of Nevaeh's glare against her hunched back like a searing iron. She expected scornful words, a shower of hateful remarks, yet all she heard was the rustling of fabric as Nevaeh crouched behind her.
"Your hair is a mess," Nevaeh huffed. The Na'vi woman grabbed Laila's long black hair between her fingers and twisted the strands mercilessly, making sure to inspect each one carefully. Nevaeh mumbled heatedly to herself. Her voice echoed through the small cave of wood, harsh and unwelcoming. Then something unbelievable happened. The feeling of Nevaeh's slender fingers weaving her hair into a braid sent a sensation of both terror and comfort though Laila's body. She could feel every tug and brush against her head, but all Laila wanted to do was stay still and let this unfamiliar act of kindness wash over her. Nevaeh continued to braid strand after strand until Laila felt as if she had been enclosed in a shell of protection. "There." With a final twist of her fingers, Nevaeh sealed the final braid and stepped back to admire her work.
Laila raised her hand to trace the firm ridges of the individual braids - a sensation so foreign but strangely comforting. For the first time in ages, she felt safe. Finally, she cast a nervous glance up at Nevaeh, who was standing with folded arms and a hard look to her yellow eyes. For the first time in a long time, Laila smiled. It was small and tentative, and Laila could only hope that she could convey her thanks without words. Nevaeh raised an eyebrow and let out a long sigh. Laila knew that, silently, she had been heard.
With a small gesture of her head, Nevaeh indicated for Laila to stand. "Come," she ordered, and Laila did so. Nevaeh led her out of the medicine room, past the main hall, and through the entrance of Hometree and into the forest. The Na'vi female moved with a swift grace that Laila had not seen before, but rather than being drawn to it or curious about it, she still felt numb. She wanted to ask why they were out there, where they were going, but she didn't want to draw any attention to herself by talking.
Laila's ears pricked to the sound of muffled voices coming from a distant clearing. She scanned her surroundings, her heart pounding in her chest as new fear pulsed through her veins. Swarms of Na'vi were congregating in the clearing, their numbers growing with every passing second. Could they be here for her? Could this be the place where she was to finally face the retribution for her misdeeds? A thousand questions raced through her mind as dread overwhelmed every thought.
As the two women drew closer, an eerie silence descended over the crowd. Nevaeh and Laila marched forward, their feet crunching against the dry earth as they passed through the parting clan members like a pair of spectral beings. The silence was so thick that it seemed almost tangible among the cluster of watchers.
On the far side of the clearing, the Tsahik and Olo'eyktan stood tall, along with another young female Laila did not know. Laila felt a chill beneath her skin as she looked up to meet Mo'at's stern gaze. Nothing was revealed in her expression, yet fear coursed through Laila at an increasing rate. The Tsahik and Olo'eyktan parted and revealed what appeared to be a deep abyss before them. A hole in the ground—the entrance to some unknown fate. Nevaeh stepped towards the edge with determination while Laila hesitantly followed, her heart pounding in anticipation of what lay beyond.
The Tsahik swept out her arm, offering for Laila to come closer to the hole. Laila's eyes flickered back and forth from the Tsahik, to the Olo'eyktan, and finally to Nevaeh, though the clan's leaders revealed nothing and Nevaeh refused to meet her gaze. Swallowing heavily, Laila stepped closer to the edge of the pit until it felt like she was standing on a precipice in a nightmare. Taking a deep breath, she slowly peaked inside and immediately recoiled in shock. A gasp terror ripped through Laila's throat, her hand shooting up to cover her mouth.
Deep inside the hole lay Nathan Connell. His fragile human body was covered in leaves and flowers, surely hiding away what must have been the gruesome scene of a broken body. Curled around his body lay his Avatar, which held him close to its cold body with limp, dead arms.
She did not want to see Connell in such a way. Not after she had imagined he would be covered in blood, his skin torn and broken bones littering the ground between them like dead branches on the forest floor. But there were no bruises or cuts marring Connell's pale skin; instead of seeing a dead body, Laila felt as though she were merely looking upon her friend sleeping soundly without a care to the wars of existence. Laila turned away from Connell's grave and saw two more holes to her left, which undoubtedly held Ski and Meyer.
"What is this?" she whispered. Her voice sounded distant within her ears, like it was someone else who had spoken.
The Tsahik placed her hand against Laila's shoulder and her eyes filled with a deep sorrow. "Eywa does not choose sides. Your Protectors will soon join her, and we will help guide them. Speak now, for they listen," she stated softly.
Laila gave one tiny nod before strong tears stung her eyes. An uncontrollable shudder ran through her body as she breathed out, "okay." Her mind roiled with emotions as she tried finding something to say that could give their deaths meaning. Then, Laila's body surged with strength as her mind suddenly cleared.
Laila's body moved on its own accord as her mind seemed to switch off. Her spine became a rigid rod of steel, her arms melted into her frame like molten iron, and with a fiery gaze she stared unwaveringly deep into the hazy abyss of the woods ahead. An inexplicable calmness came over her, and for the first time in weeks, she felt true confidence again. Her voice was surprisingly strong and clear, pure and unfiltered from any tears. She held herself tall and proud beside the graves of the fallen comrades beneath her feet.
"Corporal Nishell Wazowski. Corporal Jackson Meyer. Sergeant Nathan Connell. It was an honor to serve with you." Her fingers seemed to be welded in line with her arm as she brought them up to the brim of her brow in a powerful salute and stood unflinching in this manner. A single tear slipped down her cheek.
When Laila finally relaxed her stance, she felt a tap on her shoulder. The woman who had stood beside the Tsahik and Olo'eyktan offered up what Laila recognized as a woodsprite nestled in her palm. "Atokirina," she whispered as if uttering a prayer before pressing the delicate seed into Laila's grasp. Tenderly cradling it against her chest, Laila bent down and cast it towards Connell's arm where it came to rest as if placed there by Eywa herself.
Laila repeated her makeshift ceremony with Meyer. There was less foliage to cover his body, though much like Connell, his human face remained covered. Laila fought back the coiling sickness that steadily grew in her gut as she presented him with his own woodsprite.
When Laila came to stand before Ski's grave, it was a shocking sight. Her face had been left mostly uncovered and there were only petals resting upon her cheeks, accompanied by deep bruises that marked her dark skin like a map, but it was still… her. Peaceful, eternally sweet and loving. Laila reached deep into the hole and ran her hand across Ski's forehead, brushing brightly colored petals away so that she might see her face better. Ski's mouth hung slightly open and a few blades of grass peeked out from between her teeth. Gently cradling Ski's opened hand, Laila placed the woodsprite within it.
As Laila finally forced herself to leave her comrades' graves, the Tsahik's powerful voice exploded into the sky, filling Laila's ears with the foreign language of the Na'vi. The breeze stirred, sweeping up petals in an orchestrated dance that matched Mo'at's words. With each new command, the clan members repeated the chant louder and faster until it became a deafening rhythm of thriving faith.
Laila felt dizzy with confusion as she gaped at the incredible show of kindness from her supposed enemies, who were now giving her fallen friends a proper burial ceremony. After all they had done - after everything Laila had done - how could these natives still show them such kindness? It was the most human thing Laila had ever witnessed.
In that moment, Laila swore an oath against her own kind. The humans may have thought of her as one of their own, but now she knew where she belonged. Whatever fate awaited her among the Na'vi, including death, she would face it without regret. There would be no turning back for her - Central Command had lost Laila forever.