So I loved this book too much not to give ya'll the ending I was going to go for. Read on to find out! Warning, It's quite long... and sad... and I haven't whumped my boi lo'ak much in this fic and I feel incomplete bc of it.
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Hall of fame, cold, spirits, bad life, what was I made for, my blood
Takes place after Chapter 22.
Norm called it the surge. The mind becomes more responsive when a patient is taken off the extensive fluids and medications that have toxic effects. The medications Kailua was on were strong, stronger than a na'vi body could handle... Quaritch had used a special kind of bullet on the natives, one their bodies couldn't heal so easily around. Made of Unobtanium. It had the same effect on Na'vi as normal bullets did on humans.
But the surge. It was a phenomenon. Lo'ak, even though he was beyond angry at her still, found her presence comforting. She knew things about him that only Neteyam knew... and Neteyam had died. And the only person who tried to help had been injured as well, probably beyond repair.
And even she left him in the end anyway.
Tsireya had done a great job at keeping Kaliua from bleeding out. The shoddy stitching, as Lo'ak later found out, had prevented her from dying the same way Neteyam did: bloodless. Yet, the bullet had done too much damage on its destructive path. Max said it ripped through her spleen. It bled into her back, rather than her stomach. So she bled to death as well... but inside.
But a few hours before, she was sat up and chatting happily, eating some food Ronal had cooked. Desperate to get away from the mourning in his family's hut (he'll deal with his grief when he's damn well ready) he hid in Kailua's room and her family. Ao'nung was there with Rotxo. Tsireya was by her side, with Ronal and Tonowari on her other side. Lo'ak stayed by her feet, silently thanking Eywa that she didn't remove the only other happiness in his life.
Eywa laughed and stuck her fingers up, for Kaliua died in her sleep that night. Lo'ak came to know when Tsireya rushed into his hut for comfort.
Neteyam was given back on the third day, and Kailua was on the fifth.
"Kailua please don't do this, please talk to me," Lo'ak grabbed her cold hand. "You're gonna be ok, ok?" She still didn't move, nor did she breathe. "Kailua, don't sleep, open your eyes," She stayed still. Lo'ak shook her violently. "NORM!" He screamed. "NORM!"
"Kailua please... please don't do this..." He looked at the monitors pointlessly. Lo'ak didn't know how to understand a monitor. Yet... he's pretty sure they weren't silent earlier in the night. "Kailua? Kailua, please?" It was too late. She was gone. He saw her heart stop as her body pumped out more blood from the gaping wound in her body. Lo'ak dropped his head, forcing the tears back. He couldn't mourn now: there was too much that needed doing. Too many people needed to grieve... it wasn't his place to grieve. It was his fault she died... if he hadn't gone back for Spider...
Quaritch had already snatched two people he loved away.
Lo'ak would be damned if he took someone else's Kailua or Neteyam away.
He had no choice. The grief had crashed down on him. Suddenly and with no warning. Lo'ak was midway back to his hut when his heart suddenly felt like it was being squeezed, painfully. A sob was bubbling in his throat. Lo'ak changed the direction of his walk to a place he knew would be free of people: the beach. Nobody would be there; they'd be too busy mourning the death of Kailua. He dropped onto his knees.
Just as suddenly as the crippling need to sob rose, it disappeared.
Just... a cold wave of numbness.
He could feel the tears falling but didn't register them. He knew what his body was doing: it'd done it one time before. It was trying to protect him from a complete nervous breakdown. He'd experienced this feeling only once before, and that was when his childhood best friend died during her iknimaya. She couldn't get the Ikran to move up quickly enough, and both perished.
The rain poured from the sky. It was almost as if Eywa herself was mourning Kailua as well. He began to feel cold, but it grounded him. The crippling sadness was beginning to seep through the cracks in his mask. He heard a few people mutter about him being on the beach, but nothing could push the pain away.
Nothing could bring them back.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
~Tsireya~
Tsireya didn't know how far she'd run until her ankle gave out and she crumpled to the ground, sobbing furiously. Her eyes ached painfully as the tears streamed non-stop. She pounded the ground with her fist, desperate to find a way to relieve her anger. An almighty clap echoed throughout the sky and rain began to pour. Funny. She thought bitterly.
This was just like the night Kailua died...
She continued sobbing in the rain, aware it was ruining her hair.
Eventually, as the thunder passed on, Tsireya's tears dried up. She exhaled shakily from the ground as the rain beat down her body. She rubbed her arms. It wasn't cold by any stretch, but the feeling kept her grounded. Her throat felt thick with tears, but she refused to let them fall. She stared at the horizon in the distance, clenching her jaw. She sniffled and sighed deeply, trying to rein in her emotions
"Tsireya." She blinked slowly. "Tsireya, it's my turn to watch," In her heavy daze, time had rushed by. The clouds had made way for the starry sky, the rain long gone. Until the demon ship moved on, away from sight, her parents and the council guard had implemented a watch guard. Everybody was to be on guard when it was their turn, even the Sully's and Tsireya's family. "It's ok, Rotxo. I'm not tired." She continued to stare ahead. "But-" She blinked again. "Rotxo, it's fine." She said. Rotxo was quiet for a few seconds. "Can I at least sit here with you? I don't like that you're alone," Tsireya lifted a single shoulder barely an inch: an invitation. Rotxo sat in silence, waiting. Tsireya cradled Kaliua's old flower in her lap, a strange, unfamiliar weight in her body.
"Are-" Rotxo began. "Are you ok?" He knew it was a stupid question, but the silence needed breaking. Tsireya cleared her throat. "I don't know. I- I don't feel anything." She grabbed a fist full of earth. "Just... heavy." Rotxo nodded gently. "I get it," He whispered. Rotxo's grandfather, whom he was incredibly close with, passed away just before the Sully's arrived. His grandmother followed soon after of a broken heart.
Rotxo was probably the only person, besides the Sully's, who did get it.
Tsireya felt her body sway gently. She knew this was an act of grief: she'd seen her mom do it when her younger siblings died in utero. She blinked slowly. She hugged her knees tightly, pressing her chin almost painfully on top. "Perhaps I should stay here, with you. Riglo and Tipoxi are more than capable of taking our watches tonight," Tsireya exhaled silently, staring at the flower of her dead sister once more. "You have not made eye contact with me the whole time, Tsireya."
She scoffed softly. "That is because I want the last eyes and face I see to be my sisters." She pushed her head into her knees, exhaling into her legs.
Rotxo sat the rest of his watch in silence.
~Ao'nung~
Ao'nung was numb for weeks after Kailua died. He didn't eat, he didn't sleep, he just had nightmares of his sister's lifeless eyes staring back at him from the bed. He didn't go to Three Brothers Rocks either. That was where the worst of it happened. He'd been told there were five stages to grief.
denial.
anger.
bargaining.
depression.
acceptance.
He'd done it in a... slightly different order. There wasn't room for denial: he'd felt the lack of pulse in his baby sister's wrist himself, praying to all deities out there, in any galaxy or world or even universe, to save her. Yet: they'd all turned their backs and left him to die. To take away Ao'nung's light. Anger, well, he was an angry person by nature. Years of belittling and slightly unfair discipline from his parents contributed to that. And his short hair, butchered once by bullies. Kaliua had sliced her hair off in solidarity after that, so Ao'nung didn't feel alone.
That was six months before the Sullys arrived, so a relatively recent event.
Fuck, some days he wanted to rip all of his braids out, just to be normal. Around a week after... it... Ao'nung was sitting on the rock he'd sat on with his sister, less than a month before she died. He glanced at his long hair bitterly. A sudden wave of anger rushed over him, dragging him deep. Red filled his vision as he brought a sharp broken shell across, hard. He hadn't felt the pain from the slit on his neck until a long while after that: just happy he only had short hair. Like his little sister did.
But then his neck grew hot and very painful. As Tsireya wrapped it up, the tears fell fast and silently. His mom, or his dad, should be doing it. But no: they were away, reliving memories that Ao'nung was too weak to do.
He cried himself to sleep that night, and every night after that for a solid week.
~Ronal~
You should never have to bury your child. Ronal's mother said as she miscarried again. I am sorry, my love. She said, rocking her daughter back and forth as Ronal cried over the eighth child she lost. Ao'nug and Kailua ran across the boardwalk, with little Tsireya stumbling after them, gurgling to herself, oblivious to whatever was going on. "Perhaps another child is not in the cards, for you my love," Ronglioah comforted. Ronal sobbed quietly.
Ronglioah passed away when Ao'nung and Kailua turned six, Tsireya turned five, and Ronal suffered her tenth miscarriage, she and Tonowari decided no more children. How right she was, Ronal reflected calmly. You should never have to bury your child. Yet: here she stood, in her beaded ceremonial coverings, watching as her daughter's form covered in the roses she loved from the reef was swallowed by the anemone.
She pulled her (now only) daughter into her side, hushing her as she sobbed for her sister. Her beloved Tonowari bent his neck down, the farthest she'd ever seen it. He dropped a single rose after her body, whispering a prayer. "Take care of her, ancestors," He said softly. Ronal shuddered but held strong for her children. Nobody should have to lose their sibling.
She knew how much the Sully boy meant to her daughter, so begrudgingly, she invited him to stay for the personal prayers and first night of mourning in her honour. Lo'ak stayed for a few hours before leaving just after the eclipse to retrieve more flowers from the reef in her honour. Tsireya cried and begged him to wait, rushing off as well. Ao'nung, silently, followed as well. Once the company was gone, she fell to her knees, screaming and crying.
Eywa, why did you have to take my daughter from me?
~Tonowari~
The best word to describe it was cold. The feeling, that is. Of knowing they'll never come back, or speak to you again. He first experienced it when his dad died. He'd gone off to hunt one day, leaving four-year-old Tonowari in the company of his older sister, Ro'ah. His mother came home that evening, exhausted and retired straight to bed, without his father.
It was only after three days did Tonowari finally realised his dad wasn't coming home.
He'd grieved. Not because he was dead, not that Lo'ak knew any different, but because they'd likely never speak again.
The second time was when Ro'ah lost her life when she was eighteen, shortly after their grandmother passed away, the only adult who cared for them. Their mom had died in childbirth when Tonowari was ten and Ro'ah was fifteen.
Ro'ah was killed by an akula. She'd stumbled onto a breeding ground by mistake. It was then that Tonowari became chief, and Ronal was lined up to be his wife, having it been Ro'ah as Tsahik. Tonowari had to teach himself, for the most part. At least until Rotxo's grandfather, Oyeno, of the Tipani clan, came seeking Uturu after his clan were killed by the sky people. Oyeno was a former Olo'eykan and trained Tonowari in the ways of it. Shortly after his son, Ao'nung was born, Oyeno's rogue son turned up with Rotxo and left him again.
It was later found out that Rotxo's mother had been an avatar driver and killed shortly after his birth. Rotxo's father was hunted and killed as well, leaving the boy an orphan.
Oyeno's daughter, Ipenya, grew to be a best friend to him.
But watching her body get lowered into the anemone made Tonowari realise why he didn't make strong ties outside of the family with people anymore. Ronal had attended as a current friend to him, despite them not being mated yet. She and Ipenya had met a few times, clicking and getting along instantly. So, she was feeling it too. But Tonowari stood, in his formal covers as a sign of respect, Ipenya always loved his formal covers, cold. No emotions came forth as Oyeno said his final words and her mother cried into his shoulder.
She looked healthy, the final time he saw her.
Ipenya was coming home with him from his failed mission to retrieve some of Ronal's home flowers back on another sea clan's reef. They stumbled into a territory fight between two Tulkun, and whilst Tonowari escaped with little injuries, Ipenya didn't resurface from the dive under.
It was harder to watch his daughter be swallowed by the anemone, but he understood the feeling well. So it was easier to process it, in that request. He'd grieve when his children were ok. That's what a dad does; he puts his children first, above all else... even his feelings.
~Lo'ak~
"Lo'ak, you're shaking," Was he? "Are-are you cold?" He doesn't know. Maybe. Maybe not. "Please, talk to me," He couldn't. If he spoke, he'd start crying and wouldn't stop. "Can-can you at least look at me? Please?" No. If he met her red eyes, he'd run and not return. "Lo'ak, please," Don't beg. He couldn't help you if you beg. Neteyam begged, and he still died. Kailua begged, and she died. "I-if you need alone time, I'll go. Just-please, tell me something, anything," He tried. He did. All he could muster was simple: "Please," Stay.
His throat burned horribly and his eyes stung bitterly. "O-ok. I'll go," Tsireya sniffled. Her hand left his bicep, a burning cold left in its absence. He brought his knees closer, wrapping his arms around them tightly. He'd already cried today. He probably had no water left to cry anymore. Yet, a lone tear dribbled alongside his jaw.
It tickled, but he couldn't find the energy to wipe it away. Then another fell in its path. And another... and another. Blinding rage took over his body in a single hot wave. He swiped at the tears furiously. He grits his teeth, harshly pulling on a braid that irritated his neck. The braid didn't move: his anger worsened. He fisted his hair, pulling it with a frustrated scream. Then the pain hit. His scalp burned in agony and the cycle started again.
There's only so much pain a person can take before it crashes down, bringing them into a deep place. Losing his brother, his confidant, his best friend... in such a tragic way, being able to do nothing but just sit there and prey that he somehow stopped bleeding to death. Then his mate. His second best friend, the only one he knew that came close to Neteyam... shit, for nearly a day, he thought she'd pull through and be ok. That they'd have children together... that they'd die together, old and wrinkled to fuck...
But apparently, Eywa was cruel. She took and took and took, leaving nothing left of Lo'ak's being, save for the self-loathing and hatred he was born with... a genetic gift, one could say.
It's not even like he had the right to cry over Kailua. For fucks sake, they weren't even together at the time... and yet, there was so much he wished he could've said to her, to rectify his fuck up... which is all he seemed to be good at.
A month passed since the burials. The families were still in mourning and would be for another month, as per tradition. Rotxo's elder sister, Rigloxin, was running the clan temporarily alongside Enyo, as future mates to Ao'nung and Tsireya, a destiny long written.
He grew to be an angry, resentful person. Clan life seemed to move on too quickly... his family, and Kailua's, seemed to move on quickly. His dad would be up earlier than the sun to train some warriors with Tonowari in hunting silently and scaling the trees of the mangrove forest, Mom would help Ronal with Tsahik tasks along with Kiri and Tsireya, Tuk would learn various techniques of swimming from Kailua's cousin, Axing... and Lo'ak... well... he'd be picking fights for no reason.
Usually with Ao'nung. Both had grown into angry men in the absence of their loved ones to calm them. They'd fight viciously by the rocks, punching until blood spurted or vision spun, then stumble off and return the next day.
"You're the older brother now, you've gotta act like it,"
Ao'nung frowned. "Huh?" Lo'ak glared. "That's what my father told me today," Ao'nung "oh" ed softly, pressing a scaled leaf to his bloody nose. "It's not fun being the oldest," He said a few minutes later. Lo'ak ground his jaw. "I didn't think I'd ever know that... at least not until Tey moved out of the hut," Lo'ak swirled his hand in the water, thankful for the cold relief it provided his broken knuckles. "It sucks," Ao'nung replied. "Hard. You have to step up when your parents don't or can't..." He sighed. "Like now. Mom says she's okay, but she's not. She's not said a full sentence to us since Kailua died. Neither has Dad, to be honest..."
The boys continued to sit in silence. After a while, Ao'nung extended his fist. Lo'ak flinched back, thinking he was going for a punch. Instead, he sighed. "Lua wouldn't've wanted us to fight. I'm calling a truce," Lo'ak looked at his fist with suspicion. "I'm serious. For whatever reason, she loved you. And I loved her. So... by extension, I have to at least tolerate you," Ao'nung thrust his fist forward. Lo'ak rolled his eyes. "Fine, shitstain,"
The slap from Ao'nung's tail was worth it.
~Kailua~
When she awoke, she was in a meadow. There was a huge spirit tree in the middle, larger than the hallelujah mountains. A woman dressed in moss lay there, stroking animals. "Kailua te Ateyo Ronal'Itan," She greeted softly. "I've been expecting you," Kailua took a knee. "Mighty Eywa." She dared meet her eyes. The gaze was loving and warm, a comforting presence. "You are here too early, daughter. You were destined for a long, healthy life," She stood, gently pushing a baby dire horse off towards its mother. "I am sorry it was cut short," She said earnestly. Kailua shook her head. "That force cannot be controlled, mighty mother. It was a choice I didn't make lightly,"
Eywa took a step closer, the moss dress detaching from the ground. "Nevertheless. You were a good heart," She looked down to the flowered ground. "This place looks like the jungle. It kinda looks like the myths my great-grandmother used to describe," He gushed, stepping towards the tree. "This place will appear as whatever the Na'vi wishes for," Eywa continued. "But why the forest? I've never stepped foot there before," Kaliua asked. Eywa tutted with a smile. "But a loved one has,"
Kailua felt the heat rush to her cheeks. "Alternatively, you could wish for the Awa'atlu village, if you so wished to spend your days in that scenery." For emphasis, she changed the scene. "But… but it's empty," Kaliua said. "Young one, I'm glad to see death has not changed your impulsiveness,"
Kailua cast a look downwards. "This is where past Metkayina go. I believe it is night, so the villages are sleeping. Or, you could go to the forest, and live the life your loved one did before the sky people returned," Eywa sighed. Kailua suddenly thought of Neteyam. "What about Neteyam? Where is he?" She asked. Eywa smiled softly. "Reuniting with his past family members who perished in the great war waged before his death."
Kailua nodded. "Will... will I ever be able to see him?" Eywa nodded. "With time. It is an adjustment to this side of life. Unlike you, Neteyam has never interacted with me, or this side before. He will adapt slowly over time. When he is ready, he will roam about like you do," Kailua walked about the mossy ground with curiosity. "I must ask you, daughter... if nothing but to relieve your soul, do you know the events surrounding your death? And everything that happened?" Eywa broached. Kailua narrowed her eyes slightly. "I was shot... I think,"
Eywa began walking, so Kailua followed. "You died twice, Kailua. Have you heard of the saying: "Mother's womb returning its borrowed" before?" Kailua frowned. "No," Eywa sighed and shut her eyes. "What it means is if a mother dies whilst she is pregnant, the baby will relinquish its soul and life to revive the mother, and give her a second chance." Kailua felt her heart drop. "You died when the bullet went through you, daughter. Had you not been expecting, you would have died before you reached your sister,"
Her chin wobbled. "Unfortunately, the sky people's bullets were too much for your fragile body to deal with, and you died a few days later," Kailua inhaled sharply, fighting off the tears. Eywa was kneeling on the ground, playing with a flower. She sniffed and cleared her throat. "What about my family?" She asked shakily. Eywa waved her hand once, showing Awa'atlu. Eywa gestured to the folded na'vi on her stargazing spot.
"He will ache and yearn for you for many months, possibly years. But he will be fine. Life moves on after death." She looked up through her flower crown with a soft smile. "It is not nice, nor fair, but it is life," She cast a look behind her form with another smile, a knowledgable smile. "And I believe you, too, will be fine. You have past family here, willing to shelter and care for you," Kailua turned to see two na'vi strolling towards her. "Mighty Eywa, I beg just one question," She met her earth-brown eyes. She gave a single nod. "My family… can I ever see them again?" Eywa raised her hand/ "I think I can stretch to that, my brave daughter,"
The world warped, and for a second, Kailua thought she'd throw up in front of the mighty mother. There, back in the village, her parents sat on a rock close to the shallows, near where Kaliua first fell for Lo'ak. Tsireya and Ao'nung were drawing her picture in the sand, burying her Ilu's satchel with it. Kailua felt her heart clench. "Death is an unwelcome, but always present thing in life. Your loved ones will heal with time," Eywa said softly, placing a hand on her shoulder.
"Thank you, Eywa… this… this is amazing," She whispered. The scene faded away to Tsireya's fond smile. The two na'vi from earlier were now in front. "Kailua, these are your grandparents. Ateyo, your grandmother and Inoh, your grandfather." Kailua eyed them curiously. It had been many years since she'd seen her mother's parents. She was only two when Ateyo died, and two and a half when Inoh passed on.
She turned to Eywa once more. Without thinking (a trait she'd begun to notice wasn't always a good thing) she threw himself at Eywa's body, clutching her tightly. Her grandparents muttered behind, gasping sharply.
Eywa's hand gave her head a single stroke. "My child. Your family will be able to connect with you if they so choose to link to their spirit tree. You are not truly alone. Whenever you want to see them, just will it." She pulled away shakily. "Thank you, almighty mother. For everything,"
Eywa smiled softly as her body began to fade. "No… thank you, my mighty warrior,"