Chapter 6

"Here is your home," S'rrona had asked another one of her clan members to show them empty nests. She had specific requirements: Close enough for the three of them to keep an eye on this Miles Quaritch-person, but far enough for no one to be bothered, and It must be equal to all the other nests, a kitchen, a bathroom, sleeping arrangements—all the like, and they found it, a nice little nook in the corner of their sleeping quarters. It was a nice view; the small, underground river that gave way to an underground lake could be seen from the doorsteps, and the screams of children could not be heard as clearly, largely because of the rushing water.

S'rrona, Vrrtep, and Peyral stood outside the small nest as Miles bent low to get inside. He was huge, bigger than any other Na'vi she'd seen before, and she liked his bigness; it was interesting. In fact, all of him was interesting; how light he was, how built he was; he'd stick out like a sore thumb among their people. Miles turned to the trio and said something she didn't know, but thought was a word of thanks. She bowed once before turning away, allowing him to settle into his home.

"This is going to be a big mistake," Peyral growled as they climbed the slight incline.

"We do not discriminate," S'rrona reminded her friend. "He needs our help."

"Did he tell you this?"

S'rrona was silent momentarily, walking past a group of children running around and kicking a ball. Their shrieks and giggles were like music to her ears, making her heart full. She longed to hear more of this kind of music. She prayed to hear more of it.

When S'rrona didn't answer, Peyral scoffed in near triumph. "He is an Outsider, with all the reports of the ashy Na'vi and the burnings," she said. "How do we know he is not one of them?"

"We don't," Vrrtep said on the other side of S'rrona. "We don't, and that's going to be a problem. What if he's a spy?"

"A spy for what?" S'rrona asked, pulling the flap to her nest open. The others climbed in first; then she followed in after. "We have no enemies—"

"That we know of," Peyral said.

S'rrona ignored her. "We have nothing of value, not even children," and the mention of their plight brought a sense of pain to them. "We have no gems, no riches; what could others want from us?"

"Land," Vrrtep said simply.

"We live underground—"

"Some people would rather live in a cave and a hole in the ground than nowhere at all," Peyral said, reminding them that, even when they weren't doing their best, other clans out there were nomadic by circumstances, not by choice.

S'rrona couldn't imagine leaving her home. The cave and its connecting rooms and tunnels were all she knew; this island was all she knew, and even though the birthrate had been low and Eywa had been mysteriously silent when she asked many of her questions, she still could not see having to evacuate her life. She couldn't imagine having to tell her people they had to leave. When S'rrona's father moved on, he told her that her sole duty was to ensure her people thrived.

She was trying.

"When are you leaving?" Peyral only tilted her head slightly at Vrrtep. Of course, Peyral knew about the comings and goings of the hunters and explorers; she was technically one of them.

"Tomorrow morning, before daybreak," he said. "My people are packing."

"Why aren't you going with him, Peyral?" S'rrona asked. "You're one of the best."

Peyral sucked her teeth. "I would have," she started, "but the Strange One should up at our entrance, and I think it is best one of us stay here."

This was fair.

Cool air chilled her skin, sending shivers running up and down her spine. S'rrona pulled the fur shawl tighter over her. Most of the village was awake, which rarely happened this early in the morning—the sun wasn't even glinting on the horizon.

Small whispers of her people could be heard over the slight chatting of the explorers. They strapped their canoes to their backs, small enough to carry two at a time, and carried packs of supplies. Last night, after the evening prayer and before they separated, S'rrona asked Vrrtep how long he planned to be in the wild. He said it was only for a few months, maybe three.

Peyral chatted with Vrrtep in low and hushed voices. She straightened his hair, pinning the loose curls to the side of his head. He said nothing when she touched his face, but…they knew. The three of them knew how hard it was to leave. The connection they shared for years made them almost as one. S'rrona did not join the pair in their silent moment; she had to prepare for her own moment.

Peyral came to her, wiping her eyes. S'rrona reached a hand out to her, and they laced their fingers. Her chest swelled, and S'rrona tried to blink back the pressure behind her eyes. She watched as Vrrtep gathered his people and stood before her.

It was time.

S'rrona's heart raced like a thunderous drum. Quickly, Peyral unlaced her fingers and stepped back to join the rest of the village.

"You all are leaving the island today and won't return for several moons…" she said, and she could hear her voice shake. S'rrona hated how nervous she got when performing blessings; it felt like, even though she knew otherwise, the Great Mother wasn't listening. As if people were judging her role as a Tsahik, questioning how she got to be one when she had very little training. The truth was, S'rrona didn't know either. Her mother passed so long ago that the only thing she remembered about her was her smile and eyes. Her father passed not soon after, and it was only she, at eight, who became the spiritual leader of her people.

Eight is such a young age…

"Yes, Tsahik," Vrrtep answered for his group.

"And do you promise to honor the ways of life of the people you come across? To honor and respect the life of the forest, sea, and mountains you traverse?"

"Yes, Tsahik," Vrrtep said, and she knew he meant it.

Taking a deep breath, S'rrona then said, "Then, May The Great Mother bless you. May she watch over you on your journey and guide you safely back home." And with that, she placed her hand on Vrrtep's shoulder, and he held his arms out to his two mates on his sides, and they held their arms out for their mates, and so on and so on until everyone in attendance, from the explorers to the rest of the clan was, touching shoulders. Peyral rested her rough hand on S'rron's shoulder.

As if there was an invisible cue, they swayed, humming, and they became louder and louder until the entire island vibrated with the sound of their Blessing Song. S'rrona closed her eyes, feeling the energy wash over her, imagining Eywa's invisible hand tapping each explorer on their head as she blessed them.

Slowly, the humming died down, and when they were completely silent, and their hands were gone from their shoulders, S'rrrona watched as Vrrtep and his group got up and slowly started their procession through the forest. Some people, perhaps the family of the explorers, followed them until the cave mouth gave way to open air. Some people whispered about what they could possibly find and if their leaving had anything to do with the Strange One's arrival.

But S'rrona did not move from her spot; even as the People started to leave to start their day, she watched the darkness outside their cave. Peyral came to her friend, watching the view she watched, the empty nothingness.

"May The Great Mother bless their journey," Peyral said.

"May She."