p class="MsoNormal"I see you, brother. I only wish I knew how to tell you./p
p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"…/p
p class="MsoNormal"I miss the way things used to be. I miss the days when you looked up at me over a smile instead of from under a frown. I miss being able to boss you around with both of us being oblivious to it. We were a team then. We played together, we explored the forest together, we annoyed Kiri together. And when we disappointed Mom and Dad, we did that together too, not just at the same time. Now, though we both disobeyed a direct order, though we both could have been killed, though we both are being punished, we don't look one another in the eye. I try to shoulder the brunt of the burden, to take some of the weight for you, but it doesn't help. In fact, it seems I've only managed to discover another way to push you farther from me. Somehow, all of this is my fault. Somehow, it's always my fault these days. I want to blame you. It was your skxawng ass that got us into this mess in the first place. But I see your shoulders droop under the guilt, same as mine. Dad's reproach is enough, you don't need any more from me. And anyway, I should have stopped you. I should have been able to make you stay./p
p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"…/p
p class="MsoNormal"I know from the moment your voice comes over the radio that this is not going to end well. Even if nothing goes wrong, even if you manage to get out of there without tipping off this new threat, there will be hell to pay. I can see it in the twitch of Dad's ears, the way that Mom looks at him with both worry and warning in her eyes. I know it's not your fault. How could you possibly have known that the Sky People would be there? That they would have avatars? I know that Dad is too harsh, that he asks too much of you. You wouldn't have to sneak out to the old battleground if he would only take us there himself. You wouldn't be so curious if you weren't so desperate to understand. Dad doesn't see how hard you work to be the mighty warrior you want him to see. He doesn't see how skilled you've become. But I do. I'll never admit it, but you're a better hunter than me, and so much braver than I am. You're always willing to be the first to jump into the fight, the first to hiss back in the face of danger. Most of the time, it makes me jealous. Today, I am only grateful because I know you will take care of our sisters. I know you will keep them safe until we can get there, until we can get you all back./p
p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"…/p
p class="MsoNormal"This is the first time that I have killed a demon. It isn't anything like I expected it to be. I don't feel the triumph or the pride that a warrior should. I only feel shock at how easy it was, as easy as any hunt. And then there is only the battle and the orders and the noise of rifle-fire over my head. Dad doesn't ask me about my first kill afterwards. There is no victory dance around the fire, no chance to add my voice to the warrior's song. But this isn't about me now. It's never about me anymore. It's about keeping our family safe, and Dad is scared, and I've never heard him scared before, and now Tuk is scared, and it's my job to take care of her, to take care of all of you, and it doesn't matter if I'm scared too, because it's time to be strong. I can see that you are trying to be strong too. Dad didn't ask about your first battle with the demons either. He didn't thank you for getting Tuk out like I saw you did. But we don't talk to each other about it either. I miss the time when we could have celebrated together./p
p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"…/p
p class="MsoNormal"Even in my worst nightmares, I never imagined that one day we would have to flee the forest. Dad calls it stones in his heart. Mom wears it like an open wound. I worry for Kiri, who must feel this separation from Eywa deeper than any of us. But Eywa is in the sea too. Maybe she will be alright. I grieve for Tuk, who is losing the chance to grow up with the trees as her sisters. She will never know what it's like, to measure your life by the growth of roots and branches. I do not worry for you, Lo'ak. I know you. I know that you will adapt faster than any of us, that you will embrace the chance for a fresh start. As for me, I feel the stones and the wound and the worry and the grief. For me, this is a loss I never even knew to fear. I try to take courage from your example, to match my outward skin to yours. You don't know how much I admire you, how much I need you. Ever since I was old enough to understand, any time I would start to fear the weight of becoming olo'eyktan, I would remind myself that I would not have to bear it alone. But that was before the rift opened between us. Back when I always thought I'd have you at my side, brother, not at my back./p
p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"…/p
p class="MsoNormal""Sully's stick together." These are the words that have shaped our past. "The way of water has no beginning, and no end." These are the words that we are trying to shape our futures into. It warms my heart to watch the three of you changing the shape of your whole world to match our new home. It is not easy, but we know how to learn. Mom and Dad taught us well. I cringe when it takes you longer to learn things than me, when the skxawng Metkayina taunt you as if their words aren't flames that you will rake into your already burning hearth of self-doubt. But there are good things too. There is Tsi'reya and no sibling rivalry could ever get in the way of my delight over watching you stammer around her. There is Kiri, and how she seems to understand this new way even without having to be taught. It's as if Eywa herself has already taught her, as if she was born to be at peace in any place on the Great Mother's back. There is the ocean itself, the wonder of discovering all the beauty that it holds. I let myself fall in love with the sea, fall into the work of making myself useful, and start to think that maybe Dad is right. Maybe we will all be okay./p
p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"…/p
p class="MsoNormal"I don't regret it for a second, those skxawng finally getting what they deserved. Poking fun at you is one thing, but they crossed the line when they turned their pathetic, immature taunting on Kiri. I do wish that just once, emjust once/em, brother, you had been able to walk away without having to be the hero. But I do enjoy a good fight, and even Dad knows we did the right thing. He might as well have said so. I wish he had let his praise slip through to you too and not just to me. It would certainly make all our lives easier if he could say "I'm proud of you" out loud, just once. But I know the likelihood of that ever happening, and I'm so relieved not to be the bad guy this time, to not have to take the fall even though I tried. So, for this moment, I'll take what I can get./p
p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"…/p
p class="MsoNormal"It never ceases to amaze me, the way that you attract trouble no matter how hard you try to do the right thing. If it weren't for the fact that I'm pretty sure you would murder me if I did, I'd be giving Aonung a lot worse than a black eye right now. As we listen to your story though, my frustration turns back towards you. Why do you have to be so righteous? The worst part is that I can never be angry at you for it. How could I? When you always have such a noble reason, when you walk around like the whole world is against you, when you already get more than enough reproof from Dad. I try to bury the resentment, to smother it with pride in my baby bro, but it slips between my words like water and poisons them. And as you storm away, I realize I have done it again. I have said the wrong thing and instead of mending the rift, I have only widened the space between us./p
p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"…/p
p class="MsoNormal"We are both powerless to help Kiri. At least in this, we are side by side once more. We crouch and pace and wait on the outskirts of the chaos, trying to make out what Norm and Max are saying, to pretend like our stomachs aren't sick with worry. When she finally wakes, we pretend like we were never worried at all. If it weren't for the fact that I can still feel the panic of seeing Kiri's lights go out, it would feel nice to be back on the same side as you for a night./p
p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"…/p
p class="MsoNormal"There is nothing I can do but watch. I watch as you are swallowed whole by a killer tulkun. I watch as you emerge without a thought for anyone but your new brother. I watch as you are marched to the hut of olo'eyktan, as you argue and counter and refuse to back down. They don't see how important this is to you. I know that hurts you. But even I don't understand how you cannot see that this is not the time to stubbornly stick to your noble cause. But there is nothing I can do. You won't listen to anyone. Least of all to me./p
p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"…/p
p class="MsoNormal"All around me are desperate people. The Metkayina, desperate to avenge their sister. Our Father, desperate to make them understand. I am not used to seeing this. I am not used to Dad's words not being listened to. He was Jake Sully of the Sky People once, he was olo'eyktan of the Omaticaya, he is Toruk Makto. They must listen to him! But I don't have the luxury of feeling relief when they finally do. No, there is no relief because I see the way his words get flipped upside down in that stupid, selfless head of yours. "Saving your family, that's all that matters," is what he said. I know what he means. He means us. He means me, and Kiri, and Tuk, and you. But you have to take it further. You have to be the hero. I follow you, but no matter how hard I try, I will never manage to find the words that you will listen to. No, somehow you've made this into a competition, somehow this is once again all my fault. Well, I don't care what you think Lo'ak. I don't care how much you'll hate me or how much trouble we'll get in with Dad. I am your brother, and it's my job to protect you. No matter how difficult you make it. No matter what it costs./p
p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"…/p
p class="MsoNormal"I miss the way things used to be. I miss the days when you looked up at me over a smile instead of from under a frown. I miss being able to boss you around with both of us being oblivious to it. We were a team then. We played together, we explored the forest together, we annoyed Kiri together. And when we disappointed Mom and Dad, we did that together too, not just at the same time. Now, though we both disobeyed a direct order, though we both could have been killed, though we both are being punished, we don't look one another in the eye. I try to shoulder the brunt of the burden, to take some of the weight for you, but it doesn't help. In fact, it seems I've only managed to discover another way to push you farther from me. Somehow, all of this is my fault. Somehow, it's always my fault these days. I want to blame you. It was your skxawng ass that got us into this mess in the first place. But I see your shoulders droop under the guilt, same as mine. Dad's reproach is enough, you don't need any more from me. And anyway, I should have stopped you. I should have been able to make you stay./p
p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"…/p
p class="MsoNormal"I know from the moment your voice comes over the radio that this is not going to end well. Even if nothing goes wrong, even if you manage to get out of there without tipping off this new threat, there will be hell to pay. I can see it in the twitch of Dad's ears, the way that Mom looks at him with both worry and warning in her eyes. I know it's not your fault. How could you possibly have known that the Sky People would be there? That they would have avatars? I know that Dad is too harsh, that he asks too much of you. You wouldn't have to sneak out to the old battleground if he would only take us there himself. You wouldn't be so curious if you weren't so desperate to understand. Dad doesn't see how hard you work to be the mighty warrior you want him to see. He doesn't see how skilled you've become. But I do. I'll never admit it, but you're a better hunter than me, and so much braver than I am. You're always willing to be the first to jump into the fight, the first to hiss back in the face of danger. Most of the time, it makes me jealous. Today, I am only grateful because I know you will take care of our sisters. I know you will keep them safe until we can get there, until we can get you all back./p
p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"…/p
p class="MsoNormal"This is the first time that I have killed a demon. It isn't anything like I expected it to be. I don't feel the triumph or the pride that a warrior should. I only feel shock at how easy it was, as easy as any hunt. And then there is only the battle and the orders and the noise of rifle-fire over my head. Dad doesn't ask me about my first kill afterwards. There is no victory dance around the fire, no chance to add my voice to the warrior's song. But this isn't about me now. It's never about me anymore. It's about keeping our family safe, and Dad is scared, and I've never heard him scared before, and now Tuk is scared, and it's my job to take care of her, to take care of all of you, and it doesn't matter if I'm scared too, because it's time to be strong. I can see that you are trying to be strong too. Dad didn't ask about your first battle with the demons either. He didn't thank you for getting Tuk out like I saw you did. But we don't talk to each other about it either. I miss the time when we could have celebrated together./p
p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"…/p
p class="MsoNormal"Even in my worst nightmares, I never imagined that one day we would have to flee the forest. Dad calls it stones in his heart. Mom wears it like an open wound. I worry for Kiri, who must feel this separation from Eywa deeper than any of us. But Eywa is in the sea too. Maybe she will be alright. I grieve for Tuk, who is losing the chance to grow up with the trees as her sisters. She will never know what it's like, to measure your life by the growth of roots and branches. I do not worry for you, Lo'ak. I know you. I know that you will adapt faster than any of us, that you will embrace the chance for a fresh start. As for me, I feel the stones and the wound and the worry and the grief. For me, this is a loss I never even knew to fear. I try to take courage from your example, to match my outward skin to yours. You don't know how much I admire you, how much I need you. Ever since I was old enough to understand, any time I would start to fear the weight of becoming olo'eyktan, I would remind myself that I would not have to bear it alone. But that was before the rift opened between us. Back when I always thought I'd have you at my side, brother, not at my back./p
p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"…/p
p class="MsoNormal""Sully's stick together." These are the words that have shaped our past. "The way of water has no beginning, and no end." These are the words that we are trying to shape our futures into. It warms my heart to watch the three of you changing the shape of your whole world to match our new home. It is not easy, but we know how to learn. Mom and Dad taught us well. I cringe when it takes you longer to learn things than me, when the skxawng Metkayina taunt you as if their words aren't flames that you will rake into your already burning hearth of self-doubt. But there are good things too. There is Tsi'reya and no sibling rivalry could ever get in the way of my delight over watching you stammer around her. There is Kiri, and how she seems to understand this new way even without having to be taught. It's as if Eywa herself has already taught her, as if she was born to be at peace in any place on the Great Mother's back. There is the ocean itself, the wonder of discovering all the beauty that it holds. I let myself fall in love with the sea, fall into the work of making myself useful, and start to think that maybe Dad is right. Maybe we will all be okay./p
p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"…/p
p class="MsoNormal"I don't regret it for a second, those skxawng finally getting what they deserved. Poking fun at you is one thing, but they crossed the line when they turned their pathetic, immature taunting on Kiri. I do wish that just once, emjust once/em, brother, you had been able to walk away without having to be the hero. But I do enjoy a good fight, and even Dad knows we did the right thing. He might as well have said so. I wish he had let his praise slip through to you too and not just to me. It would certainly make all our lives easier if he could say "I'm proud of you" out loud, just once. But I know the likelihood of that ever happening, and I'm so relieved not to be the bad guy this time, to not have to take the fall even though I tried. So, for this moment, I'll take what I can get./p
p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"…/p
p class="MsoNormal"It never ceases to amaze me, the way that you attract trouble no matter how hard you try to do the right thing. If it weren't for the fact that I'm pretty sure you would murder me if I did, I'd be giving Aonung a lot worse than a black eye right now. As we listen to your story though, my frustration turns back towards you. Why do you have to be so righteous? The worst part is that I can never be angry at you for it. How could I? When you always have such a noble reason, when you walk around like the whole world is against you, when you already get more than enough reproof from Dad. I try to bury the resentment, to smother it with pride in my baby bro, but it slips between my words like water and poisons them. And as you storm away, I realize I have done it again. I have said the wrong thing and instead of mending the rift, I have only widened the space between us./p
p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"…/p
p class="MsoNormal"We are both powerless to help Kiri. At least in this, we are side by side once more. We crouch and pace and wait on the outskirts of the chaos, trying to make out what Norm and Max are saying, to pretend like our stomachs aren't sick with worry. When she finally wakes, we pretend like we were never worried at all. If it weren't for the fact that I can still feel the panic of seeing Kiri's lights go out, it would feel nice to be back on the same side as you for a night./p
p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"…/p
p class="MsoNormal"There is nothing I can do but watch. I watch as you are swallowed whole by a killer tulkun. I watch as you emerge without a thought for anyone but your new brother. I watch as you are marched to the hut of olo'eyktan, as you argue and counter and refuse to back down. They don't see how important this is to you. I know that hurts you. But even I don't understand how you cannot see that this is not the time to stubbornly stick to your noble cause. But there is nothing I can do. You won't listen to anyone. Least of all to me./p
p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"…/p
p class="MsoNormal"All around me are desperate people. The Metkayina, desperate to avenge their sister. Our Father, desperate to make them understand. I am not used to seeing this. I am not used to Dad's words not being listened to. He was Jake Sully of the Sky People once, he was olo'eyktan of the Omaticaya, he is Toruk Makto. They must listen to him! But I don't have the luxury of feeling relief when they finally do. No, there is no relief because I see the way his words get flipped upside down in that stupid, selfless head of yours. "Saving your family, that's all that matters," is what he said. I know what he means. He means us. He means me, and Kiri, and Tuk, and you. But you have to take it further. You have to be the hero. I follow you, but no matter how hard I try, I will never manage to find the words that you will listen to. No, somehow you've made this into a competition, somehow this is once again all my fault. Well, I don't care what you think Lo'ak. I don't care how much you'll hate me or how much trouble we'll get in with Dad. I am your brother, and it's my job to protect you. No matter how difficult you make it. No matter what it costs./p
