Author's Note: Sorry! Another long chapter where not a lot happens. But now we are moving on to the story! I hope that you enjoy!
It had only been a few short weeks since the battle against the Sky People that took his father's life. Roxto has been trying to cope with the feelings of loss while listening to his mother cry every night, quietly asking the great mother to bring back her mate. He missed going hunting with his father. He missed the way his father would ruffle his hair, cast him sideways looks when he would sneak snacks to Roxto and his little sister behind his mother's back while she pretends not to know. He missed the way his father would sit on the benches around the clan's campfire, patting his knee to the beat of the drums until he can't just listen anymore and drags his mother to dance with him, spinning her around and holding her close. He missed his mother's smile as she chastised his father over and over again while laughing that she can't dance and yet he always got her to.
Roxto missed his father. Sometimes so badly that it felt like his chest was being ripped open. Like all the air was sucked from his lungs. Like he was drowning while standing on dry land. It's the grief, he knows, and sometimes it's easier to manage than other times, but at night, in the silence and company of only his thoughts, he can't pretend the grief isn't overwhelming. Bearing down on his heavier than any weight before ever had.
So, he went to the tree of souls to see his father. Every night since they lost him trying to get Olo'eyktan's and Toruk Makto's children - Roxto's friends - back from the Sky People who had been hunting their tulkun brothers and sisters. His father had been one of the first to charge after their chief and Toruk Makto to save their children - once more, Roxto's friends - and died to do so and avenge their brothers and sisters.
Roxto's father was a hero. And he brought great honor to his family. But Roxto would give it all away for his father to come back to him.
He didn't blame the Sully children. He didn't blame Tsireya or Ao'nung. They all lost someone too. Neteyam. The eldest of the Sully children. Roxto's relationship with Neteyam didn't start out on the best foot, which was unfortunate seeing as Neteyam turned out to be an amazing friend to have. Always so compassionate and kind. He always tried hard to be present, to be a good friend and an even better brother. He followed his siblings and his friends through fire without even a hint of hesitation.
He forgave Roxto, Ao'nung and their friends for all of their teasing of him and his siblings. Roxto will never forget taking a moment to pull the oldest brother aside after everything went down with them leaving Lo'ak out by himself beyond the reef and the oldest brother had given them the most chilling look of rage. Roxto felt nothing but shame for the part that he played in leading Lo'ak out there and then leaving him behind. As someone who had tussled with Neteyam before, he was ready for the son of the former Omaticayan Olo'eykton's son to beat him half to death - especially for being stupid enough to pull him aside somewhere private.
But Neteyam just crossed his arms over his chest and listened quietly, eyes burning in that wintery rage that honestly made Roxto fear for his life. It was then that he remembered something that Kiri had warned of him when he and his friends were messing with Lo'ak before even that, making fun of his demon features - his hands mostly, with those five fingers - and Neteyam had come to scare them off, putting himself between an angry Lo'ak and Ao'nung, stepping closer enough to stare up slightly into the latter's eyes, with a cold expression on his face. She turned to Roxto, who was standing beside her, a smirk on his face not even expecting the beast beneath the calm surface of the darker blue skinned boy, and said, lowly, as if only for Roxto to hear, "Careful, Roxto. Lo'ak is quicker to anger, but Neteyam is much more destructive. Poke and prod all you want but may Eywa guard you if you draw true rage from my sagely brother."
And now, Roxto is sure to have a glimpse of that rage, burning so hot that it sucked out all the warmth in the space around them. And despite his mental assurances that no one was going to be able to save him from this epic ass-whopping - as Lo'ak once referred to their fights - coming his way, Neteyam remained eerily calm, listening to him explain what happened, and apologize for the role that he had in it. Once he was done, they lapsed into silence as the oldest son of Toruk Makto stared through him.
Painful, tense moments passed.
One.
Two.
Three.
Four, before Roxto blurted out, "If you are going to beat me up, can we get on to it? I know what I did was horrible, and I know you have the right to be angry at me and my friends. What we did was stupid. So, freaking stupid. I'm sorry. If beating me up will help us get past this, I'm ready." He straightened up, his shoulders pushing back and chin up, ready to accept whatever was about to come his way. He didn't care how bad it hurt, he just couldn't be held under that skin peeling, glacial gaze anymore.
"It is not my place to forgive you," Neteyam said flatly, drawing Roxto's eyes back to him. At his perplexed look, Neteyam elaborated, "It wasn't I who you and your friends left out in the middle of the ocean. It was Lo'ak. It wasn't I who you tricked into thinking that you were being friendly with him," Roxto flinched at that, remembering that happy look on the younger Sully brother's face when they invited him along - something they jested about afterward - "that was Lo'ak too. And it wasn't I who was put into a terrifying situation to which I almost lost my life. That was also Lo'ak. And it wasn't I who defended you and Ao'nung and all of your other shitty friends to the Olo'eyktan and Tsahik. At the risk of getting punished by my own parents. That. Was. Lo'ak."
Roxto flinched at the gut punch of the words grounded out by the older Sully brother. He stepped close, into Roxto's space, forcing him to lock eyes with the formerly Omaticayan. His eyes a beautiful golden color, unlike any other he had ever seen. A beautiful eye shared by all the forest Na'vi, it seemed. Or, at least all of the Sully children.
"If you feel shame for what you have done, then apologize to Lo'ak. It is he who you guys hurt, not me," Neteyam said flatly, gaze still frigid. And Roxto isn't sure how true that is. This anger isn't just anger. It's pain. It's sadness. It's an unseeable weight that seemed to settle heavier and heavier on the shoulders of the darker blue skinned boy more and more as time goes on. Despite the chilling anger in his eyes, there was something else. Something like exhaustion. Something akin to... helplessness. To resignation. Like he was fighting a desperate battle that he was losing.
Roxto knew that he and his friends had been harsh with them, but even he could see that the older Sully boy was withdrawing into himself. He would listen in lessons, follow orders, help around their home and participate in whatever was required of him. But it was always with a vacant expression. Like he was going through the motions. Like it was all just a means to make it to the next moment. Not living. Just barely existing.
But it wasn't always like that. Some days, he seemed... fine. Content. Participating beyond the bare minimum. He would talk, even smile, no matter how thin or wispy. Sometimes he would laugh, a smile that crinkled his eyes would light up his face. And sometimes, Kiri's worried eyes would finally stray from him. She wouldn't be watching her older brother like she was seeing a tragedy in slow motion.
And if it mattered, which he supposed it should. He actually didn't mind Lo'ak. And he really liked Kiri and Tuk. And well, Neteyam was... nice enough when he wasn't staring off in space or just existing in their space.
"Speak to Lo'ak," Neteyam commanded, pulling Roxto back to their conversation. "He will decide whether we forgive you or not. Apologize to him. Make it up to him. I don't care what you do. If Lo'ak will find it in his heart to forgive you, then so will I. If it matters enough to you to apologize to me, then surely you know that I am not the one that you should be speaking to. Sullys stick together. You either get all of us, or none of us. It's just that simple."
The meaning loud and clear. If he wanted any sort of friendship with any of them, he had to at least be cordial with all of them. His mind flashed with the image of beautiful, but strange, Kiri. But this wasn't about her. Even though, yes, he was interested in her. Thought that despite her being a little odd, she was very cool. She wasn't scared to be herself - or, at least, she wasn't until he and his friends' poked fun at her.
But once more, it wasn't about her. It was about him. He needed to make peace. He had never intended anything bad for Lo'ak. It was supposed to be a prank and that's it. It was never supposed to be something wholly malicious, but he can see clearly how misguided he would have had to be to argue that point. How could anyone see what they did as anything other than malicious or cruel? Dishonorable to its core.
Yes, this wasn't about Kiri at all. This was about him. What he needed. And that was to make things right.
"I'm sorry," Roxto muttered, feeling even worse than he did before. When laid out like that, they seemed like worse than scum. When his parents heard about his part in this, they would be so disappointed in him. But never more than he was already disappointed in himself.
"What did we do?" Neteyam asked, after a few beats of silence. "What did we do that made you all hate us so much?"
Those words echoed through him, each like a solid punch in the gut by the Olo'eyktan himself. Roxto didn't have an answer for that. And neither did Ao'nung when Roxto accidently stumbled upon them talking in private when the Olo'eyktan's son went to apologize to Neteyam too for what they did and Neteyam asked him the same thing. Neither had an answer, because there wasn't one. There wasn't anything that Sully children did that forced the Metkayina boys to do what they did. And it certainly wasn't hatred. Roxto didn't hate the Sully's. And judging by the shame that Ao'nung carried with him in the weeks that followed, lead him to believe that the other boy felt the same. The Sully's didn't do anything wrong. They were just different. And that wasn't reason enough for anyone to be treated the way they were.
But, in apologizing to Lo'ak, and proving that he meant it, the younger of the Sully brothers offered a pat on the shoulder in forgiveness, with a curt nod and guarded eyes that Roxto knew was fair and accepted before they moved on. And Neteyam, well, he offered his own little nod and Pandora's frailest smile before turning away. The chill in his eyes finally thawing out after days of it being there in their every interaction.
And just like that, the animosity was gone - after all the boys apologized, at least. And then Neteyam was distantly kind. Whenever his mind seemed to kick in and he appeared present, he was nothing but kind - if not a bit mischievous, teasing his little brother and sisters whenever the opportunity presented itself in those more... lucid moments. He was friendly with Roxto and Ao'nung, never again bringing up what they had done or even seeking an answer to his question that neither boy knew the answer to.
Ao'nung, now on good terms with the Sully boys - as he had always been relatively fine with the girls, specifically Tuk who was never the target of any jabs and Kiri only that one time - he expressed something to Roxto that the other boy had also noticed. Neteyam... didn't seem well. Despite his mind being almost everywhere but where it should be, he was always so... perfect. He did everything well. Learned fast and performed with impressive aptitude. It was no wonder whenever Lo'ak looked on in envy. If Roxto was to have a brother like that, he's not sure he would be able to handle it with the level of grace that Lo'ak was.
Especially since Neteyam's haughtiness only came in jest. He never seemed to actually think he was better at anything than anyone. He always offered advice in a 'it just so happens to work for me like this' sort of way. Never looking down on anyone. Never trying to belittle anyone. And whenever Lo'ak would get that look, the one where it seems like he's getting frustrated enough that he is about to give up, Neteyam will rest against him and ask what he needs. A hand on the back. A head on the shoulder. Something gentle like that to offer comfort and the sharpness of his eyes return as if Neteyam is stepping back into his own body just for Lo'ak, Kiri and Tuk.
And his affection is always free. Despite the distance in his eyes, and features most of the time, it was easy to get close to him. His smiles, though weak or frail most of the time unless someone tried looking too hard then they were broad, glowing in a false light, were always free. His hand always reaching out to help. To care. He is always the first to come help Lo'ak learn a new skill that he picked up. Offer advice to Kiri when she mumbles something under her breath, or to hold onto Tuk when she cries, or is too tired to continue with whatever it was that they were doing.
Roxto had watched his friend carry home his little sister almost every night that they stayed out late. Whenever they would sit around the Three Brother's Rocks and would talk into the night. Neteyam was always the first to pull Tuk into his arms and rub her back until she fell asleep in his arms, then he would carry her home without complaint.
Kiri's concerned eyes on Neteyam was all that Roxto needed to know that Neteyam was acting out of the ordinary. That something was wrong, and it wasn't just the adjustment to a new place. The other Sully children were finding their peace here. The Metkayina were happy to have the extra hands and a fresh perspective on their way of life - somewhat. But the questions from the former outsiders either helped them see their ways as flawed or reinforced their beliefs in them.
Roxto didn't know what was wrong. Kiri just shook her head whenever he would catch that look on her face and she didn't want to speak about it. And Ao'nung tried asking his mother if she had any ideas, but the Tsahik simply said, "Some people need more time. Eywa guides us all in our own time. You cannot control how fast someone adapts. Just like you can't control how fast someone heals. It is all in good time."
But he didn't get the time. He seemed to have been doing better in the final weeks leading up to his death by the hands of the Sky People. He seemed happier. He seemed more present. And Kiri's shoulders had sank in relief every time her brother would throw his head back in a laugh that brightened his entire face, or his lips would curl into a new kind of smile - a knowing, mischievous one, mostly directed at Lo'ak and his helpless attraction to Tsireya - or when Neteyam actually found it within himself to stand up against the more hot headed of their growing group, which was mostly Lo'ak and Ao'nung, and argue one point or another. But those golden eyes stayed focused, present, as he stared at his opponent through his lashes with a playful smirk on his face. That chilling rage from that one time was gone and had yet to ever show itself again.
Even mildly upset Neteyam had a bit of levity to him. Somehow relaxed, even if only a bit. He would stare off into space, or operate as if he weren't even there, but it was much easier to pull him back into himself, and then he would flash them that kind smile, like he hadn't realized what happened.
Roxto had always wondered if what was strange about Kiri was also what was strange about Neteyam. Maybe it was a Sully thing? Their father was of the Sky People. Er, well, in spirit. Despite his body being Na'vi. So maybe that was it. Roxto wasn't sure.
And Neteyam died before he ever found out. Neteyam was healing. He was finally looking like he was winning the fight that had been weighing down on him. But then he was shot and killed. When the Crabs came for them with the Sky People inside them, they were split up. Tsireya was taken but Ao'nung and Roxto were forced to remain behind while the adults went for those that were taken.
And Roxto never saw Neteyam again. Kiri and Tuk were still being held by the Sky People and they needed to be saved. No one could have known that when they finally returned, he would be gone. His body dragged to sea.
"I'll never forget her scream," Kiri had whispered hollowly once, a few days later while Roxto was sitting beside her, trying to heal both of their broken hearts, even if it was with silence between them. "Mom's scream when we got there, and he was gone. I never got to say goodbye. And they can't find him in the Tree of Souls. He never got to be with Eywa. He's gone forever." Yes, Roxto could also hear the scream of heartbreak and rage coming from the Sully Matriarch when the group gathered at the Tree of Souls as neither her or Toruk Makto could find their son's memories amongst their dead.
She threw herself at Jake when they got to land, pounding her fists against his chest, snarling hate and rage at the Sky People and that son that was taken from them. And Jake let her do it, taking the weak beating against his chest without word, letting her work through her anger without interference. It felt way too personal, too intimate, especially with the pain of losing his own father fresh in his heart. But before he could look away, Neytiri looked up into Jake's eyes, finally settling enough to moanfully sob out, face streaked with tears of rage, "I hate them, Ma Jake. I hate them."
And Jake, for all of his seeming stoicism at her rage, finally loses tears down his cheeks, face crumbling in pain as he bows his head to her, lowering to his knees. No longer did he appear as Toruk Makto. But as a man who lost his son. Neytiri softened at the sight of him, lowering to her knees before him, making them equal again, as he sobbed, voice quaking in anguish, "I know, Neytiri. I know. I do too." His hand on his thighs, fingers running against each other more and more violently until Neytiri covered them with her own, forcing him to stop what he was doing while resting her cheek against the top of his head.
He grabbed hold of her tight, and they held one another, comforting one another and sharing in their pain.
Roxto couldn't watch any longer, as could none of the other Metkayina that had come to support their new friends, in hopes that the ones lost all made it back to Eywa, especially those lost to the sea. All did - except Neteyam. Even Roxto's own father was there, at Eywa's side. Blissfully unaware of what happened. Living his death in peace.
And that motion, with Jake's hands? Kiri called it 'anxiety'. It was something that Jake did to let go of some of the anxiety building up in him. A horrible emotion that Kiri sneered at. A motion that Roxto had seen all the Sully family exhibit. The person who didn't was Neytiri. He didn't know what she was talking about, but figured, and now was almost certain, that it was something inherited from their father - or mother, in Kiri's case. Something from the Sky People.
This anxiety must affect them differently than it did Na'vi. True born. Or... at least not those of the Avatar's descent.
Since that day, Roxto would come to the Tree of Souls alone to see his father, and sometimes to see if he can see Neteyam. His father is always there, ready to see him, but never Neteyam.
Tonight, he expected, would be no different.
He drifted through memories of his father, before the memory suddenly cut off and the glow of the Tree of Souls brightened so dramatically, so quickly, that Roxto had to rip away from it, covering his eyes to the flash of light. So sudden, so intense, that he vomited and recoiled. He struggled up to the surface, gasping air into his burning lungs, spitting up and sputtering both water and vomit. He rubs at his chest, trying not to just blatantly stare into the bright pulsing light of the Tree of Souls, the noise of the ocean around him raising higher and louder, waves pushing him around enough that he had to grab onto branches of the Tree of Souls hanging up out of the water for dear life. He squeezes his eyes shut, praying to Eywa to keep his grip firm as the noise grew louder and louder, the waves pushing and pulling him violently enough that he feared for his life.
It was deafening, light a beast roaring in his ears, shaking him to his very core, the noise reaching a soul shattering crescendo, before it all dies out at once. The ringing in Roxto's ears and the nausea persisted despite his gulps of air to settle his stomach and a subtle shake of the head for his hearing - although that did nothing for his nausea. Somehow, his hands still gripped the branches, but his fingers hurt terribly.
Easing his eyes open, he looks around carefully as the sea starts to calm once more, except for the waves, there was silence. Like all of Pandora heard Eywa's roar, and it fell silence as she drifted back into her slumber. Shaken, Roxto releases his painful grip on the branches and sinks into the water a bit, kicking his feet and swooshing his tail to keep his head from going under. Even in the silence of the ocean around him, he can barely hear over the pounding of chest. He's almost certain that he's going to be sick.
He calls for his ilu, ready to go back home. He has to speak with the Tsahik. Surely the clan heard this. Surely all of Pandora heard it. Whatever that was. His voice trembles, still feeling like his soul is being shaken loose from his body. Tears slide down his cheeks as he tries to find the strength to paddle home. Whatever that was had to of terrified his ilu away, which, honestly, what did he expect? He wasn't coming back for him. That would be the only reason.
Hesitantly, he ducks his face into the water and glances around, noting the blackness beneath. The natural bioluminescence of the life on Pandora usually prevented the sea, even at night, from being so blackened out. But there was nothing. Just the Tree of Souls still exuded some light. Lifting his face from the water, he looks around to see even the forest beyond is blackened out. Like whatever just happened just sucked the life from this area.
Terror sets in as Roxto looks around, feeling lost. He has to get home. He has to tell the Tsahik and Olo'eykton what happened. She would certainly understand. But he couldn't bring himself to move. Too scared. Too shaken by what just happened to force his muscle to really move.
His hand loosely splashes the water, chin trembling. "Naize?" he calls softly into the darkness for his ilu, adrenaline and terror shaking his entire body. "Naize, please come here. I-I need... please... I..."
A flicker of light catches his attention. Roxto glances over to see a spot of water starting to light up with Eywa's seeds. Small fish that just seemingly spawn into being. Nothing hunts them. Nothing hurts them. They just exist, floating through the sea, peacefully. Kiri told him that the seeds on land float around in the air, drifting peacefully too.
He lowers his face back into the water, watching as the seeds spin peacefully in a circle, drifting lazily. Roxto squints at the distance, swearing that he sees something by them... being encircled by them. Seeds of Eywa are scared. They wouldn't harm him. And even with his ilu gone, there probably isn't anything remotely close by to be of danger to him, he reasons, steeling himself to swim closer after lifting his face for a deep breath of air. The closer he gets the more the seeds seem to appear and easier it gets for Roxto to see that, yes, there was something in the center of the lazy whirling of the seeds. And it wasn't just a something. It looked like... like a someone.
Like a punch to the gut, Roxto stops outside the cyclone of seeds, eyes blown wide as who could only be Neteyam floating there. Roxto blinks rapidly, rubbing at his eyes in disbelief. Neteyam was here? Eywa returned her son home so that he would be given a proper burial? That he may finally become one with them?
As horrible as the feeling was, a small part of Roxto was relieved. Peace could finally come to his friend. To all his friends. To the Sully family. As they would finally be able to say their proper goodbyes.
Then, a movement. Despite the light of the seeds, and even from the Tree of Souls, the ocean was still dark enough that Roxto could only barely make out the face of his friend. And almost missed the fully body convulsion. Barely more than a twitch. Then another. Then another. Roxto, blinking rapidly, tried to figure out what he was seeing, before he noticed bubbles trailing up to the surface. Not just from the movement, but from Neteyam.
Neteyam... was moving? Neteyam was... alive?
And drowning.
Launching into action, Roxto broke what felt like it should have been an invisible field around his friend but felt no resistance as he grabs hold of Neteyam's arm and pulls him toward the surface, pushing as hard as he could, feeling the muscles in Neteyam's arms twitch and tense as he battles for air. Breaking the surface, Roxto pulls his friend close to keep his head above water, surprised by how relatively easy it was. He figured it had to of been the adrenaline.
He pulls his friend over to one of the rocks protruding from the water, flat enough for him to pull him on top of. Without thinking he began to push on his chest, breathing down his throat. And for a few bated repetitions, nothing happened. Then, Neteyam lurched, coughing up water, rolling slightly to his side to get the liquid from his lungs. Roxto chokes out a loud sob in the otherwise quiet night, heart still pounding in his chest as his friend looks around blurrily, rolling onto his back once more to stare at the stars.
Roxto leans over Neteyam, tears streaming down his face as his friend's half-lidded eyes stare up past him, around him, as if completely displaced. The bioluminescent freckles on his face slowly start to brighten up, as if awakening just as their owner was.
Voice shaking with disbelief, relief and unbridled joy, Roxto sobs, "Oh Great Mother! I can't believe it! Neteyam! I can't believe it! You're alive!"
Neteyam's lips part and he lets out a shuttering, wheezing breath, that is laced with pain, before his eyes roll up into his head. Roxto rubs at his face and eyes, body once more trembling with adrenaline and relief. He couldn't believe it! Neteyam! He was... he was here! The Great Mother heard them. She saved him. Not only delivering his body to his family and friends. But also returning his life to him. Lo'ak was certain his brother was dead. All the Sully family was. And yet here he is, alive! If they weren't wrong, then Eywa brought him back to them.
A shaky chirp pulls his eyes away from the now sleeping face of his friend to the water beside him, Naize, shaking with terror, waits for him, his eyes darting around, scared of whatever could be lurking nearby. But he came back. Roxto was going to spoil him rotten the next chance he gets.
"Naize," Roxto whispers, relieved. His friend chirped, turning terrified eyes to him. "Let's go home, boy. Pl-Please, help me."
Naize didn't complain when Neteyam was carefully loaded on his back as well as Roxto. Then, after the tsaheylu is made, he commands Naize to swim, fast enough to get them out of there, but not too fast so that he would lose Neteyam behind him. He kept a careful hold of the unconscious boy's arm over his shoulder and headed home, thanking Eywa for her gift. For returning one that they thought to be lost, back to them once more.
It wasn't his father, but it was someone else he cared for. His father would have wanted it this way. His father died to save them, now he can rest in utter peace knowing that all of them are saved. And that is going to have to be enough.