Panoramic Reflections — Chapter XI
High Camp, Ayram Alusìng — 45 Minutes Earlier
The hunger for sleep hung over Neytiri's vision, urging her with its great weight to close her eyes and accept the moment of respite from the weary world of the skies. Her mind told her she deserved this, more than anything, that she needed it. It knew by the way she yawned that she wanted to slump over her ikran and relax while the sun above warmed her aching back. To let the wind hum across her ears, singing her a familiar song as her ikran soared across the floating mountains, flying them back home.
It was a temptation unlike no other and it sounded too perfect for her to believe, and yet, all she had to do was simply close her eyes for just one… fleeting… moment.
"No!" Neytiri shouted angrily.
Tightening her grip around the reins, she assured herself that it was never going to happen. Not now. Not ever.
But as the echo of her outburst faded into the void, a soft voice crackled through the static, whispering in her ear, "Are you well, Neytiri?"
The points on Neytiri's ears flattened from embarrassment. She knew her riders suspected something after she screamed for no apparent reason, and if Eywa herself heard her, she too expected the Great Mother to question her sanity.
Glancing over, Neytiri found Peyral, the huntress, flying beside her with an expression that suggested great worry for the mate of Tsyeyk Suli. There was no need for her or anyone else to worry about her. Pressing her fingers against the throat mike, her voice carried a solemn tone over the radio as she answered, "Yes, but..."
Her voice trailed off, lost in contemplation, hesitant to probe further. Imaginary scenarios played out in Neytiri's mind, projecting Peyral's mocking gaze, a disdain reserved for confessing something as seemingly trivial as exhaustion triggering her outburst into the empty air.
However, the more she thought about such nonsense, the more she wanted to laugh. It was truly absurd that someone like Peyral, a beloved friend, would embody such a response. After a mere microsecond of internal debate, Neytiri gave into the truth.
"…I am tired," she admitted.
Peyral smiled weakly, "So am I."
Neytiri nodded and shared a smile with her friend. It was good to know that she was not alone, but it sadden her to hear the infliction of pain reverberating in Peyral's voice.
"Me too," Takuk soon added over the radio.
Neytiri frowned. A warrior such as Takuk never complained about anything. Not even when his arm was cut open and blood poured out like the river. Instead, Takuk took pride in pain, in wounds, and in mistakes. They were, as he said, 'lessons by the Great Mother', that taught him to evaluate his errors. But as she looked over her shoulder to find him, Neytiri noticed that he was drifting away from the rest of the group; his ikran unable to keep up with the pace.
After they passed into the floating mountains, his ikran started to experience a pinch of a cramp that threatened to collapse her wings. Sensing her pain pulsating through tsaheylu, Takuk urged her under the silent command to shorten the wingspan and keep her wings close to her body so as to not risk them from falling out of the sky. It helped but Neytiri noticed that his ikran was not going to last another five minutes of this.
Signaling for her riders to slow down, Neytiri wanted to offer Takuk and his ikran a chance to catch up.
Ka'ani meanwhile maintained a stoic silence, a trait of his personality that was betrayed by the grimace he made after he took up a position behind Neytiri's lower-left side. He appeared to be in bad shape to her. No doubt tired, exhausted, and hungry, much like herself. He was also likely sick by the way he hunched against his ikran, and with everyone knowing of how prideful he was as a warrior, he was never going to tell her or anyone else of how he felt.
After a quick glance of each of their the faces, Neytiri understood what she needed to do. She had to spare them from exhaustion before someone made a mistake or worse. Yet, within the same breath, she quickly rejected such a decision. The demons made it known to the Na'vi that they were never going to let up, regardless of how tired they all were or how long they haven't slept; which, according to her Jeyk, was fourteen days.
Blessed Eywa, Neytiri thought. Fourteen days?
A shallow sigh left her mouth at the revelation. What was worse was how Neytiri also started to feel all fourteen of those days at once. The way her bones ached in the cold rain or how her muscles twitched and strained when she exerted her body. How her stomach grumbled, pleading for her to eat something, and how her eyes felt like rocks, held together by threads.
Neytiri also suspected she was falling ill by the way her knees buckled under the strangeness of vertigo, a feeling she had been sensing all day yesterday. She remembered how she desperately reached out for support against a wall, catching her breath, and shutting her eyes to stop the world from spinning. Somewhere between that time, a thought of a possible pregnancy crossed over into her mind, and with equal measure, dismissed it on the reason that she and Jeyk had not been intimate since their arrival at High Camp. Whatever had afflicted her this morning had subsided by the time she departed from camp.
None of that mattered to a demon. Whether Takuk, Ka'ani were in pain or how much she wanted to sleep, or how sick any of them were. It simply did not matter. At least, that was how Neytiri felt about it when it came to the demon's intentions of seeing the Na'vi eradicated from their lands.
At the same time, Neytiri was not about to allow the other riders help her. Not when she needed them well rested for the battle, Neytiri suspected in her gut, was coming on the horizon. Deciding against her better judgement, Neytiri instead chose to guide the Tipani by herself, and no one was going to change her mind otherwise.
"Everyone will have one day of rest," she announced over the radio. "This is not up for debate."
Peyral's tail flicked against Neytiri's word. "But, Neytiri. The Tipani!"
"The Tipani are warriors," Neytiri said, her voice hinting at the faith she held for the Tipani. "I will speak to Amanti about this. She will understand our plight."
Peyral lowered her head. She struggled to make sense of Neytiri's decision but knew deep down that she had no choice but to accept it.
As for the Tipani. No one knew why the demons suddenly became fixated on them. They were a People too far for the demon's to reach and too far from the Omatikaya to be in any kind of danger to the RDA.
But then, one night, a brilliant orange glow of an explosion erupted through the starry skies, followed by a soft shockwave that shook the air, suggesting to everyone at High Camp that the demons were using more than mere kun, but, 'bombs' as Jeyk called them. The same kind of bombs that were used to destroy the Omatikaya Kelutral.
Everyone gathered to see what was going on and unfolding before their very eyes that night was a column of billowing smoke, rising as a miasma to infect the sky while the demons ravaged the lands of the Tipani, torching everything the Tipani cherished, including their ancestral weaving, which bore the ancient history of their People.
Faced with the same plight that haunted the Omatikaya before them, the Tipani were forced to abandon their home. They fled into the forest, believing that the demons would not find them there. For a while, it seemed this was true. The demons missed them entirely as they swept the region for signs of the Tipani. Leaving the Tipani to believe they have finally escaped their enemies. That didn't last long. The demons started to utilize satellites that orbited above the moon, a concept that did not exist in the minds of any Na'vi, to find the Tipani by the very heat that radiated from their bodies.
Hiding among the overgrowth of the Hanging Gardens (a moniker so named by the RDA), the Tipani were surrounded, leading to a bloody battle that saw numerous deaths and many more missing. With only one way out of the forest, Olo'eykte Amanti led them to safety, but not before losing her own mate in the retreat.
With nowhere left to go, the crisis eventually found its way to Jake's lap. Since the neighboring tribes refused to help the Tipani, out of genuine fear that this same war might find them, the once proud Olo'eykte Amanti came before the Omatikaya with humility in her heart and humbleness in her words.
And even though she came with peaceful intentions, her presence did not.
The Omatikaya started spreading rumors that the Tipani would lead the demons here, and with tensions already rising from infrequent invasions by kunsìp that tested their defenses, the Omatikaya wanted nothing to do with the Tipani.
But if the People did not want them, and no one else saw the gigantic elephant in the room, then Jake and Neytiri surely did.
The simple matter-of-fact was that the RDA had overwhelming odds stacked against the Omatikaya and no amount of spears, bows, and war cries was going to stop them from coming and decimating the Omatikaya. That much was proven true when they displayed their awesome power before all the Na'vi as they inverted the ISV's and allowed the engines to consume the surrounding areas with the intense fire of matter-antimatter.
This was why they needed the Tipani, now more than ever. Because Jake and Neytiri knew that without the Tipani, the Omatikaya would face the RDA alone. An RDA who had the firepower, the technology, and the manpower to wipe the Omatikaya off the face of Pandora with one single push of a button.
But why didn't they?
It was a question that Jake himself asked countless times before, ever since he saw what they were quite capable of doing. A question that sent him down a rabbit hole of conjectures and theories. Because none of it made any kind of sense. The Omatikaya were, as Jake called it, 'fish in a barrel' and the RDA had them dead-to-rights.
Hell, he thought, they could have easily used the afterburners of the ISV's to melt away the mountains, just like they did to the forest.
So, why didn't they? Whatever the answer was lied beyond the fog of war, and Jake couldn't find it. Not without some help.
Whatever was truly holding the RDA back was a blessing in disguise, or, as Jake believed, sheer stupidity. Either way, Jake exploited this weakness by organizing their defenses in the event the RDA do decide one day to attack them with superior firepower.
As for the Omatikaya, they had the numbers, sure, but not the same numbers that fought against the RDA fourteen years ago, especially not now as they were bleeding a slow death through attrition. An attrition that took up in the form of disease, skirmishes, natural causes, and eventually to come, a war.
Kinda like the four horsemen of the apocalypse, Jake thought. Except all the horsemen represented one single entity. The Resources Development Administration.
The sensible solution that Jake saw arrived with Amanti's visit. The Tipani had more people, more warriors than the Omatikaya currently had, and Jake believed with the Tipani's help, they stood a chance—a slim chance, yes but a chance—against the RDA. And if he refused, as his People wanted him to do, then Jake would have signed the death warrant of every Na'vi at High Camp and possibly every Na'vi on this moon for that matter.
He accepted Amanti's plea that day and following her return to her People, the Tipani were galvanized to make their way to High Camp.
To further aid the Tipani, Jake instructed ikran riders to help carry the wounded, the sick, the old, and the children. It was a considerable undertaking that soon caught up with the Omatikaya.
Unbeknownst to Jake, the RDA also started to see movement heading towards the Hallelujah Mountains. Fearing a potential strike on Bridgehead, much like what had happened preluding the Battle of the Tree of Souls, the RDA surrounded the mountains, choking the Omatikaya off from the rest of the world. It was almost a deathblow to the Omatikaya if it were not for Ayram Alusìng being too much for the RDA to adequately cover.
To the north of High Camp was a small area where the Omatikaya realized the RDA presence was remarkably low. Leaving them to use it as a means to reach the Tipani, and anyone else if need be.
The downside to this gap was how far it was for the riders to reach. It required them to take an unnecessary detour through the elongated stretches of Ayram Alusìng. Through the thick fog and through the series of scattered floating rocks, intertwined by vines that easily served as dangerous obstacles for the riders.
Compounded further was the fact that the Tipani were now forced to march through an unknown wilderness to reach this gap. A region of the forest that even the Omatikaya were unfamiliar with.
They needed someone to guide them.
Moments after announcing a call for volunteers, Neytiri voiced her support. Jake suggested someone else, but Neytiri insisted and along with her fellow riders, they strategized a way to help the Tipani navigate through the treacherous regions of the forest.
Of course, being the Tipani, this was not going to be easy. They resisted using the throat mikes that were provided by Jake, citing their well-held belief that such devices were poison to their bodies. It took considerable convincing from Neytiri to show them that the devices were not at all, harmful to them. After proving it so with Amanti, the Tipani reluctantly accepted it. But that was the least of their problems.
Plasma storms threatened to prevent Neytiri and her riders from guiding them. Further, the RDA were attempting to harass them, though it seemed apparent that by harassing, they could only fire their weapons as loudly as possible but no where near the Na'vi. An attempt that was to frighten, rather than harm the Na'vi.
At the end, none of this truly worked against the Tipani. They viewed their current tribulation with immense reverence. A kind of hardship that deepened their faith with the Great Mother.
Continuing their arduous journey through the mist, the group grappled with their growing exhaustion. Neytiri's advice to Takuk earlier was helping him but not his ikran who was far more eager than he was to break free and extend her wings. To protect both of them, Takuk repeatedly command her to restraint herself. She did. But she also shrieked at him, letting him know that she was growing more weary the longer they flew.
"We must hurry and find a place to land, Neytiri." Takuk said.
"We will, do not worry my friend." Neytiri assured. Glancing ahead, she noticed that Ka'ani and Peyral were looking for their home. She prayed that they find it fast, otherwise, Neytiri feared, they were going to leave Takuk behind on one of these mountains.
Flying to the left and ahead of Neytiri and Takuk was Ka'ani and Peyral, both of whom kept watch for the elusive mountain. Despite having flown many times before, it was still remarkably difficult to allocate the presence of the mountain when a fog as thick as it was today, decided to obscure them of their home.
Undeterred, Peyral remained focused, her sharp eyes meticulously scanning the surroundings, desperately seeking the faint outline of their homeland's peak. On the other hand, Ka'ani had a different agenda. Seizing the opportunity, he gracefully glided beside Peyral and flashed a smile in her direction. Although she reciprocated briefly, she returned to looking at the horizon, leaving Ka'ani captivated by the elegant contours of her body and the way her skin glistened in the sunlight. A peculiar sensation surged through his hands, involuntarily tightening his grip on the reins when she leaned back to smile at him once more.
"Are you well, brother?" She asked.
He nodded but beneath the veneer of his hardened expression lied a prayer to Eywa. A plea, if you will. He knew that Peyral was the one he had been searching for all his life, but after the death of her mother, she became distance with him and whatever desire she once had for him, vanished.
Before he could ask anything more of the Great Mother, Peyral returned to scouting for their home, leaving Ka'ani with one final look of her backside. He knew what he needed to do but after a while, a man like Ka'ani had to understand that he was becoming far too lost on matters of the opposite sex that he didn't want to jeopardize the group by getting them lost. How was he going to admit to Neytiri that they had been flying in circles because he was lovestruck by Peyral's body? Shaking off the intrusive thoughts, he too returned to looking about the horizon.
Plasma storms were beginning to sweep in from the south, threatening the riders further with the added bonus of electrified danger. Fearing they might be lost, Peyral, at the very last second and off to her peripheral, caught sight of the crowning tower of the mountain peeking above the thick layer of fog. Though barely visible, it stood as a faint silhouette against the backdrop of rain. And as soon as she saw it, she recognize the familiar sharp craggy shape of the mountain that welcomed them back home.
Peyral clicked twice on her throat mike, sending out two electronic beeps that alerted her riders of the mountain.
"Good," Takuk said over the radio.
"Yes," Neytiri agreed, "we are almost there, brother."
Her own ikran chirped at the emotional flood of her feelings, welcoming them with the same vigor as her spirit.
Immediately following this enigmatic current that fluctuated between rider and banshee, a fleeting though familiar taste of the future materialized within the mindscape of Neytiri's imagination.
It was within this vignette that she was finding herself already at High Camp. Where, as deathly tired as she was feeling at the moment, leapt off her ikran with the unexpected resurgent of energy, surprising even herself at the immense agility that she had forgotten.
Then, with explosive speed, she rushed across the cave before finding the family mauri sitting by the cliff's edge, overlooking all of Ayram Alusìng and where her family had been waiting for her to return all morning long.
Neytiri always had to leave High Camp when her children were fast asleep, depriving her of the joy of seeing their eyes as she kissed each of their foreheads and blessed them with a prayer. But now, she knew she would see their smiles again, hear their laughter fill her ears, and embrace their bodies once more.
It was almost too much for Neytiri to handle and yet she watched as beneath the haze of this dream she recognized Neteyam's familiar outline standing out above the crowd. His head was held high and confident as always, and his smile was ever warm.
Oh blessed Eywa, she couldn't wait any longer!
The moment she took her first step, she didn't stop. Not until her arms were around Neteyam's body and spirit.
'I missed you my love,' she imagined whispering in his ear.
Close by, Kiri, Grace's quick-witted daughter, stood with a radiant smile, not expecting much as Neytiri could no longer resist enveloping her in a warm hug and placing a tender kiss on her forehead. She ran her hand through Kiri's hair, gently tucking away stray strands that hid away her beautiful eyes.
Within that same instant, she felt another pair of arms wrapping around her torso. She glanced and found her second son hugging her first rather than Neytiri having to coax him into hugging her. Overwhelmed by the outpouring of love from Lo'ak, Neytiri held him tightly, reciprocating his affection with equal intensity.
Standing beside Lo'ak was Tuktirey with her face beaming with love as she leapt into her mother's waiting arms, showering Neytiri with joyful hugs and tender kisses on the cheek. The bonds of their reunion were as unbreakable as the strongest of dreams.
But even the best of dreams can turn into nightmares.
Looking about the crowd, Neytiri's eyes searched for the familiar presence of her beloved Jeyk. But instead of finding her tall, handsome mate standing beside her, her gaze fell upon Spider, who stood by, looking across to her family with a sorrowful expression. A sudden rush of acid coursed through her thoughts at the very sight of this little boy. He was here. He shouldn't be but he was.
She knew what needed to be done about it.
Approaching Spider with the sway of a disarming and nurturing mother, Neytiri wanted him to know that she was not a threat to him, and with a deliberate gesture, she knelt before him, desiring nothing more than to have one final look of this creature.
She watched as this alien twisted his face in what could only be described as a smile, all the while looking miserable. It didn't help that his overly inflated lips curled into his high cheekbones, creating the allusion of a smile, followed by the furrowing of eyebrows that suggested he needed to defecate.
Her ears stood up when she heard the vocal cords of his throat contract and knowing how annoying he sounded, she wasn't going to let him finish. Before the air could reach his tongue, Neytiri brandished her knife and quickly slit open his throat. Warm blood vigorously sprayed from his neck, painting her chest red as he clutched around the wound, trying to keep the blood inside. He looks up to her, his eyes wide and white, confused as to why Neytiri would kill him.
She heard him ask why, but there was no answer to his plea. In silent fascination, she watches his body crumple to the floor, twitching and dying.
A triumphant smile forms along Neytiri's face as she stands proudly over the lifeless body of the vanquished demon. Her gaze then shifts towards Kiri, expecting a warm embrace from the young girl. However, to her disappointment, she sees Kiri brandishing a blade of her own, poised to strike at her.
Shame. Even in this premonition, Kiri behaved as Kiri and not as Neytiri wanted her to be.
Were the Tipani interested in adopting a human boy? It would never hurt to ask, she told herself. No matter. By the time she reached High Camp, Neytiri suspected that Spider will be far and away from her once she showed him no interest in what he had to say or do.
Returning to the present moment, Neytiri observed Peyral and Ka'ani as they suddenly took flight, the wings of their mountain banshees beating faster and harder at the unofficial race that was declared by Ka'ani who, in the midst of their race, hurled playful insults at her. Peyral was not about to let Ka'ani win as they eventually found their way flying past the mountain of their home with a symphony of piercing cries bursting from the mouths of their ikrans, letting their presence be known to the warriors standing guard atop the summit.
'The riders have returned!' They shouted and soon the news of their return spread like wildfire, passing from one person to another until finally reaching the ears of Olo'eyktan Jake Sully.
"Father?" Neteyam's voice barely registered in Jake's mind as his gaze remained fixed on Tsahìk Mo'at, deeply engrossed in the mysterious religious ritual she was performing over the avatar's lifeless body.
Being over an hour by Jake's account, Tsahìk Mo'at maintained her vigil over the stretcher, her hands delicately moving between the head and feet in a rhythmic and prayerful motion that led her nowhere. It seemed to Jake as though she was attempting to breathe life back into the avatar, her actions imbued with a profound sense of devotion and purpose.
Curiosity soon found its way to Jake when he opened his mouth, wishing to ask what she was doing but something told him he shouldn't and perhaps exercise his instinctual caution to remain silent, aware of the potential consequences it might entail if he dared spill out the question that floated on the tip of his tongue.
"Sir," Neteyam persisted, positioning himself directly in Jake's line of sight, determined to capture his father's attention.
"Net?" Jake said, looking at him with a worrisome confusion. Wasn't he supposed to be outside the science shack? What was he doing here?
"Uh, mother is... well," Neteyam hesitated, scratching the back of his neck. He wasn't quite sure how to broach the topic.
Oh well here it goes: "She's here."
At first, Neteyam's words didn't immediately hit Jake that Neytiri had returned so soon. He had expected it would take another thirty minutes for her to arrive. He also took into account that they had to take the long way around to avoid the patrolling kestrels that sat on the outer quadrants of Ayram Alusìng. However, as the words, 'she's here' finally sank in, he went pale — or about as pale as the blue skin tone of his skin allowed.
"Wait, what?" Jake exclaimed.
Neteyam shrugged, confused by his father's shocked reaction. After all, didn't his father tell him to keep watch for their mother? That's what he did and that was why he was here.
"Yes, she is on her way. The warriors spotted her and the other riders coming in," Neteyam confirmed.
Suddenly, a wave of vertigo washed over Jake. He didn't even have the chance to come up with a palatable reason for bringing the avatar to High Camp when Neteyam's words echoed from the past, reminding him of this ill-chosen decision to bring the avatar here in the first place.
It appeared that once again that Neteyam's instincts were right.
"Okay-okay," Jake muttered, taking a deep breath to steady himself. He locked eyes with Neteyam and said, "go find your brother and do whatever it takes to buy us some time."
Neteyam's ears twitched as he struggled to comprehend his father's choice of words.
"Uh, buy?" Neteyam repeated, his brow furrowing in confusion. He searched his memory for any context that would help him understand this phrase, but the pieces didn't seem to fit together.
Jake quickly inhaled a breath of air from the mask that hung around his neck, hoping the surge of carbon dioxide would replenish his lost senses.
"Yes, buy," Jake repeated, his voice slightly strained. "Distract her, tell her a story, make her laugh, remind her of your love and anchor her with a hug. C'mon, before she comes here."
"Yes, sir." Neteyam nodded in acknowledgment to his father's instructions, then swiftly turned on his heels to leave the room with Mo'at, his grandmother, and Jake, his father to do whatever they were doing with the dreamwalker.
As Neteyam made his way towards the exit of the shack, he pondered on how to execute this unfamiliar task of, 'buying time' especially when it involved his mother. A cunning warrior like herself who would see past such simple tricks.
Sealing the door behind him, Neteyam then pressed on the number pad for the gaseous exchange to happen. While that was occurring, Neteyam stood silently, his eyes flicking back in forth in deep concentration.
Suddenly, his tail twitched of an idea. By the time the green light flashed above the door, he knew what needed to do but this would require cooperation from his younger brother, Lo'ak and his youngest sister, Tuktirey.
It was going to be a bold and possibly, crazy move.
"Tsahìk," Jake called out to Mo'at, his voice laced with impatience of a newborn. "How long are you going to do," his arms waved over the avatar's body, "this?"
Mo'at remained immersed in her prayers, her voice a soft murmur that echoed in the air. The intricate words she uttered held a deeper meaning and despite his fluency in the Na'vi language, it sounded more alien than he thought. With no answer and urgency running around Jake's mind like a lost dog, he cracked his knuckles and circled around the stretcher, hoping to gain her attention as he said, "Tsahìk Mo'at, Neytiri is on her way."
Mo'at let out a sigh and reluctantly opened her eyes, clearly annoyed at his voice. "I have already instructed you, young Tsyeyk. You are the one who must speak with her."
"Yes, I know," Jake replied, his tone impatient. "But you can't be in here alone."
"And why not?"
"The dreamwalker, Tsahìk. It could wake up."
Mo'at's soft gaze settled upon the avatar's steady breathing, studying it for a moment before concluding that she was in no immediate danger. But what was more troubling was that Jake saw her as a frail old woman.
"Do you see me as a little old woman who does not have the strength of a warrior, young Tsyeyk?" She asked, looking back up to him.
For the love of!
"No, Tsahìk, but I—" Jake began attempting to explain himself. However, Mo'at interrupted him with a firm assertion, "Then you will leave me be and attend to my daughter."
Feeling the boiling frustration running through his fingertips that gripped the edge of the bed, Jake conceded for the third time this day. He knew there was no use in arguing with Mo'at about protocol.
He was not going to stop her with whatever it is that she was doing. Turning towards the door, he grasped the handle, but not before stealing one last glance at Mo'at, his thoughts echoing: Whatever she's doing, she better hurry it up.
Making his way across the corridor, Jake noticed Norm standing over by Grace's amnio tank, taking notes of some kind on a pad he cradled in his arm.
Excited about the progress he was making, Norm turned and waved at the tall giant. "Hey Jake, good news, Grace's avatar is doing extremely well today!"
"Norm, initiate Uniform Lima," Jake instructed.
"Lockdown?" Norm repeated, recalling the meaning of UL. "Are we under attack?"
"Yes, by my mate," Jake replied as he removed his mask to place it on the rack by the exit.
"Oh, crap. Hey Max! Neytiri is coming!" Norm called out to the other compartment of the shack.
"Ha! I knew it! She's finally going to see the origami I made for her!" Max shouted back.
"No! She's coming for the avatar!"
"Oh shi—!"
Thrusting her hand into the air, Neytiri twirls a pair of fingers in the air, sending out the signal to her fellow riders to start forming up behind her. The riders followed Neytiri's lead, their ikrans' descending with her towards the mountain plateau. In a daring move that even surpassed Neytiri's usual audacity, she leaned over her ikran, shifting her weight against the wind and through the tsaheylu, she sent a commanding pulse, urging him to exert the effort she desired.
The ikran, instinctively comprehending her instructions, emitted a reverent chirp to her as he stretched out his wings, revealing to the warriors below the intricate blue and green colors that adorned his underbelly.
Neytiri then loosened the reins on her ikran, allowing him to soar above the warriors at great speeds while letting out a yell to echo into the expanse of the skies. This was quite unlike her but she felt doing something a little different never hurt anyone. Narrowly missing some hands that waved to her, the wind from the turbulent wake of their flyby managed to weave between the standing bodies, tickling them as their laughter followed her over to the precipice of the mountain.
The warriors' watched as each banshee dove beneath the fog, leaving them to see the faint shadows of the ikranä maktoyu to disappear behind the corner of the mountain.
The ikran glided steadily towards the eastern horizon, riding on the cool breeze that caressed his wings. The gentle gusts curling beneath them, providing a stabilizing force that also shielded them from turbulence.
Neytiri, taking advantage of the calm conditions, surveyed the landscape of the mountain before finding the hidden chasm beneath the mountain.
Skillfully guiding her ikran beneath the mountain, a surge of untamed passion welled up within her, as if she was expecting something to explode from deep within the core being of her spirit. With seamless grace, she commanded her ikran to execute a powerful vertical push of his wings, propelling them both through the narrow chasm. A thrilling shriek escaped her ikran's mouth, announcing their arrival to the Omatikaya and Tipani.
The ikran of Tsyeyk's mate adjusted the position of his wings, slowing down the momentum of the flight to avoid any collision with the precipice. Hovering above the rugged edge, he extended his alula talons and firmly gripped onto it, providing a secure perch for Neytiri to dismount from. He then folded in his wings, lowered his neck, and signaled to her by raising one alula talon in the air. However, before she could dismount, he playfully chirped, expressing his eagerness for the snack that he knew she kept in her belt pocket.
Sliding off, Neytiri turned and retrieved the awaited snack, but she wasn't going to make it too easy for him. Observing her young ikran, she locked eyes with him as he proudly straightened his beak, showcasing the intricate patterns adorning his face.
"Good! You are learning quickly!" she praised him, a gleam of delight in her eyes twinkled as she tossed the yerik meat into the air and watched as he snatched the flying meat.
Emitting a chirp of satisfaction, he affectionately nuzzled Neytiri's chest, expressing his gratitude to her. Unable to resist his charms, Neytiri indulged in his desire for a gentle stroke across his face before giving him a small peck of a kiss on his head.
"There is an abundance of food here, so indulge yourself. But remember to rest, my friend. I need you to be prepared for tomorrow. Understood?" Neytiri asked of her ikran.
In response, he chirped. It was not the usual gleeful chirp she had grown use to hearing, but a chirp that suggested to her that he was willing, even of reluctantly.
With that out of the way, Neytiri shifted her attention towards the sprawling camp, her hand instinctively pushing back on the visor to have a better look of her home and the home of her People. Tents stood sprawled across the cave's interior, intermixed with structures that served as places for the People to meet, weave, sing songs, or cook. When they had left their lands for the mountains, there was not much that the People felt they could do to make this place their own. It required immense work on their part and with the Olo'eyktan's permission, they began making it theirs. Adorning the place were various wooden and woven art, a testament to their untarnished desire to be creative, even in the face of annihilation. Elsewhere sat workbenches, where males of Jake's ilk typically huddled around, working on weapons, equipment, and whatever else they had thought that day to make.
Scattered in between the tents and the structures of the Na'vi were the mauri. Family structures that homed many families, including the Tipani who were not accustomed to building on, as they say, 'rocks'.
Everyone was here. Except her own family.
A flicker of confusion knitted along the ridge of her brow, momentarily clouding Neytiri's expression at this very fact. However, she swiftly concealed it behind a heartfelt display of gratitude towards her departing riders who were sharing their farewell with her. Left with no one to greet her, a sense of reluctant determination settled within her to find them and give them a stern talking to. Most of all, Jake.
Along the way, she exchanged fleeting smiles and soft greetings with her People, their camaraderie providing a comforting backdrop against her annoyance that fumed to a bitter point of agitation.
They were always here, she told herself. No matter if they themselves were tired, or had other things going on, they managed to make time to greet their mother when she returned home. It almost seemed rude at this point not to.
Reaching out to an elderly couple, Neytiri asked where Olo'eyktan Tsyeyk Suli was. Their blue fingers led her to looking at the corner of High Camp, where the convergence of metallic structures met the gentle caress of broken sunlight.
Of course he had to be there! Even with everything that was happening, he still took time to talk to his human friends.
Tail swaying, she gave thanks and started to walk when she heard:
"Mom?"
The innocent voice arose suspicion from amber eyes of the huntress as Neytiri faced the silhouetted figure that stood under the umbra shadows of secrecy. A brief consideration of calling out the identification of this mysterious stranger was spared when Neytiri recognized the disheveled hair running across the forehead of her daughter; saved by the precious embers of the torch light that illuminated her face.
"Kiri?"
The teenager's tail gave a loving sway when she heard her name spoken by her mother. "What took you so long?"
Standing at almost the height of her Neytiri, Kiri took two steps towards her then hesitated; unsure how to properly approach her mother. Should she give her a hug? Maybe a wave of hello. The internal dilemma caused a strange bubbling of laughter to rise within her, finding amusement in her own awkwardness.
This was her mother! She told herself. Though not the biological mom she wanted, she still saw Neytiri as the mother she needed.
Her answer came rushing towards her as Kiri felt those arms giving her a great big squeeze. Perhaps too much when she couldn't move any part of her arms. But then what was Kiri going to do? Complain?
"Mom!" the teenager exclaimed, her cheeks flushing with a mixture of delight and embarrassment under her mother's affectionate embrace. She couldn't help but notice the amused giggles of the other riders who had flown alongside her mother, thoroughly enjoying the adorable moment.
Against her better nature, Neytiri released her daughter, giving Kiri the breathing room she gasped for, but it didn't stop her from studying the intricate details of her wonderfully cute face.
Despite being born from the womb of a dreamwalker, Kiri exhibited no difference from those that Neytiri regarded as Na'vi. She was simply distinct in her own way. But she also had the eyebrows of Grace that told everyone she was of the blood of a dreamwalker. Though Neytiri never heard anyone say such vile things, it was always there, reminding Kiri of her origins. They did rumple in a adorable way when she would get flustered at her brothers. She also had these habits she would do too when she was feeling anxious about something. How she would absentmindedly play with her hair. When she was bored, she also found ways to keep herself busy, an unmistakable trait that was passed down to Grace's daughter.
None of this meant that she was some sort of dreamwalker, far from it, and even though Neytiri did argue to Jake her attitude reeked of demons when she did not want to obey basic instructions, she was still in Neytiri's eyes, her own individual.
"Hah—it is a blessing from Great Mother to see you again, my daughter," Neytiri cheerfully said. But she wasn't done inspecting her daughter, not until she had her fill with Kiri. Much to Kiri's annoyance.
Neytiri found herself looking over the pattern of bioluminescence, finding that they bloomed much more intensely that any among the People, or how the dark-stripes of her forehead curiously beckoned one of Neytiri's finger to touch her skin; earning quite the repulsive 'hey!' from Kiri.
"Mom… you make me feel like an uniltìrantokx sometimes." She huffed, her gaze falling sideways to avoid being studied by her mother.
"No!" Neytiri retorted quickly, "It is because I have not seen you in—"
Kiri tilted her head, her eyes meeting Neytiri's in a playful exchange of sarcasm. "—Hours?"
Neytiri wrinkled her lips against the word, such a Sky People concept. "I do not care if I have not seen you or my other children for the briefest of moments. It hurts a mother's heart when she does not see her children enough."
To demonstrate her point, Neytiri took hold of Kiri's right hand and placed it against her own chest, wanting her to feel the quick thumps of her heart, or this so-called hurt that Neytiri claimed to come from.
Kiri could only roll her eyes so much. Cheesy, she thought, but could not resist the smile that surfaced over her face, reveling in the love she felt coming from her mother. It was… what she felt out in the forest. Familiar. Loving.
"Mother I—" Kiri's words were cut off as Neytiri's arms enveloped her once again, squeezing tighter than before. It seemed there was no escaping these affectionate embraces. "It also hurts when you squeeze me like this every time you see me!" Kiri added.
Neytiri, raising a flesh brow over her eye, didn't find it particularly amusing, ever since Jeyk taught her the concept of 'sarcasm'.
"I will squeeze you, hug you, and love you for the rest of my life!" Neytiri declared, determined to express her affection regardless of Kiri's protest. And under that proclamation, she pulled Kiri closer into a warm nuzzle, overwhelming her daughter with maternal love.
"Mom! You're embarrassing me!"
"Good, let them see." Neytiri words were loud enough for even elders of the clan to raise their tails at.
As Neytiri rubbed her cheek against Kiri's fiery embarrassment, she couldn't fathom ever letting go. Kiri was her own, just as much as Tuk, Neteyam, and Lo'ak. Neytiri cherished her with all the depth and intensity of a mother's love.
"Mom, I have something to say," Kiri's voice changed from that of a teenager to an adult who had completed their rite of passage. A change that made Neytiri soften her hold on her daughter.
Clasping Kiri's hands in her own, Neytiri searched with an almost religious fervor for the problem that hid behind Kiri's countenance. Did Jeyk remember to feed their children? Maybe it had to do with the clothing she wore? Yes, that had to be it. Picking at the tunic, Neytiri was going to let Kiri know that her grandmother, Mo'at, would weave something for her young daughter. Just as a preluding thought descended on Neytiri's tongue, Kiri answered:
"Dad-uh," her eyes fell to the wayside, not wishing to admit the truth.
Neytiri's tail began to flick anxiously as she gripped her daughter's arms; it was a disgusting feeling that coiled at the pit of her stomach, burning like hot coals, and fuming to her throat, making her sick.
"What is it?" Her mother asked.
Kiri's ears betrayed her, fanning downward as she carefully brought her gaze back to her mother. "Dad brought a uniltìrantokx to High Camp."
The word hung heavily in the air, invading Neytiri's consciousness and unraveling memories she had long buried within the depths of her heart. In an instant, she was transported back to the nightmare of Grace's school, the haunting image of her People's lifeless bodies strewn across the floor, pierced by the weapons of the invaders. Sylwanin... her life extinguished near the entrance, the first tragic casualty in this ongoing war.
Demon, she kept thinking while she was on her knees, desperate to claw away at the dirt, pulling up the lost memories that hid away from her. Splintered wood flew past her vision, fire swallowed the sky behind her, and the last words of her father whispered in her ear:
'Daughter, take... my... bow. Protect The People...'
The demon is here, she told herself. Rat-a-tat-tat! The sound of gunfire erupted all around her, blazing through the forest as her People were struck down defending their home. It was a haunting flashback, transporting Neytiri back to that fateful day fourteen years ago, when the demon first cast its shadow over their lives
The only thing Kiri could see of her mother was a vacant stare that looked back at her. It was unnerving and uncomfortable. Kiri wanted her back, wherever she wandered off to.
"Mom?" Kiri asked by the faint measure of her voice.
The tender call from her daughter penetrated the depths of Neytiri's consciousness, pulling her back from the precipice of the abyssal nightmare that threatened to engulf her. Returning to the present moment, Neytiri mustered a feeble smile that gradually transformed into a warmer expression as she drew Kiri closer. Resting her head upon the teenager's shoulder, Neytiri offered solace in the way only a mother can, shielding her child from the weight of the impending storm that raged deep within her.
This demon posed a threat against her family, Jake failed her, failed the People to kill it and now it was up to her to kill it.
Eywa guide me.
Inhaling Kiri's scent, Neytiri closed her eyes as she whispered in silent intrigue, "where?"
Kiri, ever innocent on matters of the past, remained confident that her mother found reason. She was afraid she would turn her belly over and fight the demon but when she heard her tone slither with the insidious desire to do harm, Kiri's ears recoiled, disturbed at the sudden shift of her mother's voice. Fearing that she might have to lie to her mother, Kiri pivoted to another topic.
"I've made friends with the Tipani. They are really nice, very carrying and I have been helping them—"
"Where is the demon?" Neytiri asked again, cutting short of Kiri's thoughts.
Kiri furrowed her brows, "the Tipani, mother—"
She then felt her mother's soft hands turn to stone as Neytiri drifted her gaze over Kiri's, revealing the daggers of trembling anger rising to the surface to meet Kiri.
"Where is this demon?"
"You won't harm him," Kiri asserted firmly, her voice steady and resolute.
Neytiri's tail lashed behind her, "him? This is a demon! It walks among us with a false body!"
Kiri stood her ground, "he has done nothing to harm us!"
Neytiri's stature grew, looming over her daughter with an intensity that mirrored the depths of her pain. The light in her eyes dimmed, eclipsed by the shadows of the maelstrom burgeoning on breaking through. In a surge of unexpected emotion, she launched a verbal assault, her words cutting through the air like a tempestuous storm. "You're nothing more than a girl! You haven't witnessed the merciless slaughter of your sister and brothers by their hands!"
Kiri gasped, the heat of her mother's words whipped across her face like that of a sharpened blade.
"You will tell me. This is not a debate!" Neytiri yelled, incurring curious onlookers to see what was going on.
As the storm of Neytiri's words raged, Kiri found herself retreating inward, seeking solace behind a fragile barrier of self-defense. Her lips remained sealed, her gaze unwavering, determined not to succumb to her mother's onslaught. But her resilience only seemed to fuel Neytiri's frustration, evident in the snort of contempt that escaped her.
"Then I will find the demon on my own," Neytiri declared.
With a strong hand, Neytiri pushed her aside, her eyes wide to the threat that lived among her People. She was no longer Kiri's mother, but the warrior from fourteen years ago.
"Mom! Dad has it under control!" Kiri pleaded, but her words fell on deaf ears as Neytiri's predatory instincts took hold.
Gripping the hilt of her blade tightly, Neytiri's gaze fixated on the metallic structure of the sky people's dwelling. She knew that would be the only place her Jeyk would hide the body. Fuming of the nonsense Jeyk created, she started to walk, her steps mindful and calculating, as though this was a new hunt.
At the same time, Kiri swiftly moved to catch up with her mother, matching Neytiri's quick steps with determined strides of her own. She hoped to intervene and put a halt to whatever machination running through her mother's mind.
"Mom! Wait!" The teen cried out for her to listen. "Everything is okay! Dad has it under control!"
Neytiri pressed forward, her determination outweighing any consideration for Kiri's pleas.
"Dad wants to keep it alive! He has plans for it!" Kiri desperately shouted, trailing after her mother.
Neteyam and Lo'ak quickly approached their mother and with the plan in hand, they were about to execute it when their mother brushed past them, refusing to acknowledge their very existence.
"What's going on with mom?" Lo'ak asked as Neteyam watched in silence.
"I believe she is going to kill the dreamwalker," Neteyam finally uttered, acknowledging the grim reality.
Kiri, outraged by their apparent obliviousness to the situation, looked at her siblings, her anger palpable on her face. Her tail flicked behind her with agitation as she cried out to them, her voice urgent and determined.
"Lo'ak! Neteyam!," Kiri cried for them. "We have to stop mother!"
Lo'ak struggled to find the right words, his voice trailing off. "Kiri, she's not..."
"…mother," Neteyam completed his brother's thoughts.
Meanwhile, outside the science shack, Jake paced back and forth in front of the atmospheric gate. His hands gestured with his words, rehearsing the conversation he was about to have with Neytiri. The weight of his nerves was palpable to such a degree that he swore he could taste it in his mouth. Suddenly, Kiri's urgent cry broke through the air, catching Jake's attention. He looked up to see the fierce determination in Neytiri's movements, a telltale sign that she had only one thing on her mind: death.
He began to approach Neytiri, but his attention was quickly drawn to the knife she held in her hand.
"Neytiri," he called out to her. "Listen," he switched to English. "We have an avatar. He's unconscious at the moment but we have everything under the control. We're going to—"
Before Jake could finish his sentence, Neytiri abruptly halted and hissed at him, her gaze finding him with piercing intensity to leave her alone.
"Neytiri? Wait-wait-wait!" Jake pleaded, desperately trying to stop with her from taking any impulsive actions.
She hissed again. "Back away!" She yelled at him. Turning back to the number pad on the door, she pressed in the four digits before reaching over to grab the entrance hatch bar and lifted it from CLOSE to OPEN.
Jake followed her inside the gate, sealing the door behind them. Standing in her path, he blocked her from entering the shack any further, his face growing more concern the less willing she was to hear him out.
"I told you to back away from me, ma Jeyk," Neytiri warned, the gases inside the gate hissing.
"You're not getting rid of me that easily, Neytiri," he told her.
Narrowing her gaze on her mate, she was devoid of any smile, knowing that she might have to fight her way through him.
"I will not tell you again, ma Jeyk. Move or," she lifted the blade in hand, showing him the sharp point. "I will go through you."
"What the hell has gotten into you?," Jake said, his voice filled with disbelief. "Are you seriously going to hurt me?"
Lowering her brow, Neytiri's gaze sharpened like arrowheads as she replied, "Yes."
"Give me the weapon," he demanded, not expecting her to do anything as he extended his open hand towards her.
"Move," she urged him once more, her tone hardening at the bitter agitation she was feeling of his stubbornness.
"Give me the wea—"
Before Jake could finish his sentence, the light above his head flashed green, giving Neytiri the permission to swipe with the sharpened edge against his offending hand, cutting it shallow enough for him to flinch and retreat against the side of the gate.
"What the hell, Neytiri?!" Jake cried out, clutching his hand as blood trickled from the wound.
Pushing him aside, Neytiri then forcefully unsealed the door and barged through.
Jake attempted to catch up to her, but his toes caught the edge of the door, causing him to stumble and fall with a loud thud. Neytiri briefly glanced back, a concerned look crossing her face, but upon confirming his safety, she continued on her way, leaving him behind.
Reaching over, she swooped for a mask from the rack and swiftly secured it over her face. Turning her gaze to her right, she found Norm and Max standing by, their resolute expressions showing no fear as her own predator-like gaze scanned about the interior of the science shack. Although she was familiar with the building, having explored it during Kiri's visits, she had no idea where they might have hidden the demon.
"Where is it?" She asked in English to Norm.
"Uh-uh," Norm stammered.
"Where. Is. It?" She asked again, her tone shaking by the edge of violence.
"Neytiri, you can't—"
She swiveled the blade in her hand and pointed it menacingly at Norm's head. "If you do not answer truthfully. I will cut you open."
Norm gulped, realizing how serious she was. "Well, when you put it that way... yeah, he's, uh, down the corridor," he replied, pointing down the hall.
She followed his gesture and found that the hall contained various rooms on either side. Nodding a thanks to Norm, she moved pass Grace's amnio tank and into the hall.
She knew, by killing the demon, she was protecting her People and importantly, her family from the doom that was to come if they left it alive. No longer will she cower behind safety. No longer will she rest her mind upon the sanctuary of a mountain. With each step she took, the neurons in Neytiri's mind fired wildly, the vision of her purpose fragmenting and reassembling, fueling her relentless drive forward.
As she moved down the hallway, the onlookers—drivers, scientists, and technicians—watched in horrified fascination. Neytiri seemed like the embodiment of death itself before finally arriving at only vacant room left.
Neytiri's heart skipped a beat as she spotted her mother confined with the demon. Fear and desperation consumed her as she raced towards the glass wall, pounding on it frantically. Her voice quivered with urgency as she cried out, "Mother, get out!"
Mo'at felt the strange reverberation shaking the air but not the voice of her daughter. Curious, she turned around and was surprised to see Neytiri, her face filled with fear, desperately pounding on the glass wall.
"Ah, Neytiri!" Mo'at said, uncertain if her daughter could hear her. Despite her attempts to communicate, Neytiri continued to pound on the wall, indicating that her voice was not reaching her.
Mo'at walked over and pulled open the door, revealing a way for Neytiri to enter without resorting to breaking the wall down.
"Mother!" Neytiri gasped, clutching her mother's shoulder. "We need to leave. The demon, it will wake up and kill you."
Mo'at held her ground, puzzled. "What demon?"
Neytiri's ears lowered then perked as she pointed to the avatar lying on the gurney. "That one!"
Mo'at let out a laugh. "This is no demon, my daughter," she reassured Neytiri.
"Wh-what?"
Mo'at, with genuine sincerity, took Neytiri's hand and led her closer to the avatar. "This is a lost soul," Mo'at explained.
Neytiri tried to get a word out but found herself stuck. Her own mother was attempting to persuade her that what she was seeing was nothing more than an empty body that had no soul.
"Mother," Neytiri finally got out to saying. "This is responsible for killing father, Tsu'tey, and our People."
Mo'at inquisitively leaned over, hearing the soft breathing of the avatar before rearing a glance to Neytiri. "This one my daughter?"
Neytiri nodded.
"No. Not this one."
"Mother?"
Mo'at pointed to the blade in her daughter's hand. "You have come to claim a kill, have you not, my daughter?"
Neytiri looked at the blade in her hand, her mind unable to distinguish from what was happening as the besieged cry from within her fought over control of her thoughts.
"Yes," she admitted.
Inhaling from her mask, Mo'at nodded. "Then, if this is what you want."
Neytiri moved forward, determined to carry out her intent, but her mother's firm grip on her wrist halted her in her tracks.
"But you must allow me to warn you, maite." Mo'at spoke with a grave tone, her eyes filled with concern. "What you have come to claim as a kill is not what Eywa has desired of you."
"Eywa knows this demon will awake and claim a kill for itself."
"How are you so sure?"
Neytiri tugged at her entrapped wrist. "Because I feel it… here." She said, pointing to her heart.
Mo'at slowly closed her eyes. She knew her daughter had not healed from the war and the very fact that the dreamwalker was here brought about terrible memories that ensnared her as an animal in a trap.
"Then, if that is what you believe, kill it."
Shrugging her mother's hand away, Neytiri turned and faced the demon that was silently breathing behind the mask. She looked down upon it, her eyes shrouded behind the hatred she felt brimming from the bottom of her stomach.
With her blade poised, she held it above the creature, its flesh mere millimeters away from the razor-sharp edge. The strangeness of the demon could not escape her notice, especially the absence of hairy eyebrows.
It is trying to become one of us? She thought. No longer.
As Mo'at observed the scene, Jake entered the room, his injured hand now wrapped in a white bandage, courtesy of Norm.
"Neytiri," he whispered, a last hope for her to stop. "Don't do this."
The uncertainty in the air was palpable as Kiri, Lo'ak, and Neteyam soon arrived, joined by Norm and Max, both of whom stood outside of the room. A silent exchange of glances conveyed their collective hesitation, unsure if Neytiri and their mother would truly go through with it. However, as Neytiri raised her blade high in the air, there was no doubt that the dreamwalker's fate was sealed.