Chapter 4

"Was that him?" Peyral said. She sat with S'rrona later that afternoon. S'rrona had no idea where Peyral put the outsider and she didn't think to ask. Now, the two of them sat on the floor of S'rrona's house, making pots out of clay and water. "The man you saved?"

"Yes."

Peyral scoffed. "Im surprised he made it this long," she said. "He was half dead when we found him." The healers came to tell S'rrona this after they put the outsider under and transferred him elsewhere. A part of her thought it was unnecessary for them to do all this when there was a chance S'rrona wanted to talk to him, but the other part of her—the most Tsahik part of her—wanted nothing to do with it. She did her job, and he was alive—there was nothing else for her to do.

"There you are," Vrrtep came to them, entering the nest without asking and found his seat next to S'rrona. He leaned back on his hands.

"A day?" Peyral asked.

"I had to ban the triplets from hunting this season," and they all knew why. They were far too young anyway, but they tried to humor their mother who promised her sons wouldn't get in trouble. They did.

"Very good decision," Peyral said. "It had to be done; they were never going to learn."

They sat like this for a while, listening to the evening talk of the few Na'vi walking outside. The clan dinner was going to start and they could smell the scent of tree figs and salt fish cooking.

"How is he?" S'rrona asked.

"Why do you care?" Peyral asked.

"Because I want to deliver him back to his people," she snapped at her friend. "Why must you question everything I do?"

"Because I must," Peyral did not look up from her pottery. "And you must find something else to think about other than that man."

S'rrrona looked at Vrrtep, her eyebrow raised. He sighed, "He is still sleeping."

"Do you have any idea where he is from?" she asked.

"Not a single idea," he said. "He has five fingers as well."

Both the women stopped to look at him this time. "Excuse me?" Peyral asked.

"Five fingers?" S'rrona clarified. "Why?"

Vrrtep shrugged. "But I am going to send out men to investigate the goings on outside the island. It's been a while since that has happened."

And without saying anything else, Vrrtep grabbed the unmade clay and worked to turn it into a bowl.

"Good Morning Tsahik!" A young man placed his fingers to his forehead and lowered it. "I see you," he said as she entered into the infirmary.

It was a small building, only holding enough for a couple dozen beds at most. When S'rrona came to the infirmary, she was disappointed to learn that The Stranger wasn't there. She thought, had they taken him somewhere, it would be would the sick and injured were. No one knew where he was, most hadn't even seen what he looked like over the heads of the others.

S'rrona repeated the movement and the young man's face lit up. "Where is my patient?"

"She is over here," the young man lead S'rrona to the patient in the fifth bed. She was a mother she'd worked with for several months. She and her husband were trying to have a child, and after years of no luck and loss, she finally made it to full term. She had come to her Tsahik for guidance and prayer.

The mother smiled and tried to sit up to do the greeting, but her husband kept her back, going to greet for the both of them. Something warm filled S'rrona's insides as she crossed the room and placed her hands on the bulging belly of the woman. Small, heavy kicks greeted her fingers.

"Strong baby," S'rrona laughed, keeping the new parents at ease. She closed her eyes, taking a few breaths, checking to see if every part of the baby was felt. Two feet, two hands, a strong back, and a queue. She smiled. "Fully developed as well."

"Is it?" The father asked, helping his wife sit up.

S'rrona nodded once. "It shouldn't be long now," she said. "I suspect you have a birthing chair at the ready?"

"I made one the moment we entered The Safe Zone," the father side proudly, his chest sticking out like a bird's. "Thank you."

S'rrona simply nodded. Children were hard to come by these days. There was no rhyme or reason for it, not even Eywa answered when she asked, children just... stopped coming as often. It wasn't as if people weren't trying—they were, they just weren't successful. It troubled S'rrona as a Tsahik, but it also troubled her as a member of the Lefpom clan. If there were no more children…there were no more of them and their rich culture.

"How many children?" S'rrona asked the young man when the couple left.

"Five this week," he smiled. "That's higher than last week."

"But less than the week before."

As the day went on, people came to S'rrona for ailments and remedies, to speak and be prayed for. When the doctors came, she found herself wandering the village looking for something to do. Most people were working, either hunting or weaving or sowing. The dusty rock she kicked up caused her nose to itch. She sneezed.

"Bless you," Vrrtep said. S'rrona turned around to see him coming down the short slope she was on. "Tsahik," he said, hand to his forehead and down again. "I see you."

"You look well today," S'rrona said, walking with him now. People smiled at them as they passed, waved, and even greeted them, but most of the time, they didn't look their way. "Aren't you supposed to be leading another hunting party on the Southside of the island?"

"I took the day off," he said. "M'becka wanted to lead the mission, so I let her."

"You took the day off?"

He shrugged. "Wanted to be in the village."

S'rrona stopped in her tracks, turning to face Vrrtep. "You're lying."

If he hadn't been so surprised, she'd believe him. "What? What makes you think that?" S'rrona folded her arms and looked him up and down. Vrrtep sighed. "You know me too well." And when she narrowed her eyes just enough, he continued. "I'm and a few of us are going off island today," only thing that changed with the eyebrows that raised. "Just for a little bit, nothing serious."

"It is always serious when one goes off island," S'rrona said simply. "We never leave unless we have to."

"And we have to," Vrrtep said quickly, but gently. "We have to."

"Why?" And it was a commanding why. A why from the Tsahik.

"Because we have been getting reports of ocean burnings," and his voice was that of a warrior. One who would have been the Olo'eyktan for any other Tsahik, but for them, their friendship was most important. "And if there is an ocean burning, it is only a matter of time before what it is lands upon our shores."

This was true, the last time an ocean was burned, her father found Na'vi tools in the black sand of their island weeks after. She never knew why it burned, she was far too young to understand the politics of them all, or perhaps she just didn't pay attention.

Oh, how she wished she paid attention…

"Are you alright?" Vrrtep leaned down, making eye contact with her. "You went somewhere else for a few moments."

S'rrona beamed at him. "Yes," she said. "I am alright." And it was clear to her that she would have been believed if she wasn't so dismissive.

Vrrtep looked her up and down. "Where are you going?"

"Do not worry about that," she said, walking backwards. Vrrtep followed her, picking up speed as she picked up speed. S'rrona pointed at Vrrtep, her voice trickling with laughter. "Vrrtep!"

"I just want to know," he said, breaking into a light jog as she did. Every so often, S'rrona looked over her shoulder to make sure she didn't run into anyone and was going the direction she thought she ought to be. If she was right..."S'rrona!"

Vrrtep reached his hand out and S'rrona moved out the way. She turned around, taking off towards the Guards' Tent, cutting around corners and moving through The People. Behind her, heavy foot falls and deep panting. Vrrtep was on her tail, reaching every now and then for it to slow her down, but just as his finger wrapped around it, S'rrona's tail slipped out of his grasp, and she hit him on the head with it.

The Guard Tent was a mere few feet away from them when Vrrtep finally caught her. He tugged her back a little, but the speed and rocky terrain made it difficult to stop. Vrrtep ran into her, and she hit the ground. They tumbled into the Tent, the hot et hair of the cave giving way to the cooler air of the tent. When they stopped, Vrrtep pulled S'rrona up by her arms and looked her over.

"Im sorry," he said. "Im sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry."

But she was not looking at him. S'rrona pushed Vrrtep away from her, walking further into the tent. A few of the warriors inside watched as she came upon him, hands on their clubs just in case he woke up. Vrrtep followed, keeping his hand just inches away from her shoulder in case he had to snatch her away from the stranger.

"Tsahik," a guard said. "I see you."

S'rrona nodded but didn't drag her eyes from The Stranger. He laid on his back, his eyes closed, and his breathing—so shallow that it almost wasn't there. He was still in the torn underthings she found him in. Something hot and sharp spiked through her and she snapped her head up to look at the guards.

"You did not give him a change of clothes?" She scowled. "Is that how we treat people?"

"He's an Outsider," a guard said. "We are healing him and then we will find out where he is from."

"He has been sleeping for several days," she said. "I am Tsahik; if you need healing, why didn't you come to me?"

The guards looked at each other, then at Vrrtep. "You are busy with the village, S'rrona; they did not want to bother you with this nonsense."

She turned on to Vrrtep, her teeth bared. Vrrtep did not step away from her, but he straightened just a little. "A strange man shows up on our island, you bring him here, put him to sleep and don't think I have the right to know?" She was not asking for a response. "Who is Tsahik?"

"You are," every guard, including Vrrtep, answered, their voice low and soft. Shameful.

"Who is responsible for this clan?"

"You are," they responded.

S'rrona nodded. "As I thought. Move," she pushed a guard standing by the table away and climbed on top, crouching over the stranger to get a better look at all of him. He was so strange looking that he was almost beautiful. "Find my supplies," she demanded of anyone.