Disappear Here — Chapter XXIV

Somewhere Over Ayram Alusìng — Dusk

With the sun descending towards the horizon, Jake's grasp on the reins tightened, his fingers digging into the leather with growing unease. Unsure if they could find her in time as the burden to reach Amanti's daughter became more desperate by the hour. Because as he knew by now, they were in a race against the RDA after they had taken interest in shooting at Saeyla and her riders. Making the Na'vi aware of the possible location of Kxeyìn but also to be regarded as a threat that if anyone dared search for her, then their life will be taken with equal measure.

Fortunate then that the RDA did attack his People. Without their violent arrogant guidance, Jake and Neytiri would never have been able to know where to look. Contingent on this fact and with nothing else to go on, Jake continued to stare at those fading embers of the day's light, promising Amanti that he'll find her soon enough. But as he settled back into the groove of flying, another kind of pain hung onto him. One that was not so easily shrugged off.

'When will you watch the sunset with me, ma Jeyk?' Neytiri's voice gently chided him from months' past.

He had repeatedly promised her "tomorrow," and then "the next day," and "the day after that." But, just like his own vows to her, "tomorrow" never arrived. He could have blamed it on the overwork stresses of leading the Omatikaya. A good excuse, sure, but an excuse all the same. Neither was he willing to blame it on the unending work of safeguarding their People and their home. That needed to be done and so that took time away from his family. He'd try to shift his promises to the following week or the next month, but then came the Tipani, Rayan Asher, and an array of other troubles, trailing behind them like a relentless dark cloud.

They were the good Na'vi. Always helping. Always providing. Never looking away from fixing a problem or running away from a seemingly impossible one. That's what Jake told her, and she agreed with him. To a point anyways. But that point had grown weary of merely agreeing. She wanted Jake to be around more, and so did he. Yet, instead of finding comfort in his embrace, she found him running off to provide aid. Helping train their warriors. Manage their camp and often discussing matters of tactics and strategy with the Sky People who lived among them that he had forgotten his promise with her—again. Many of these things did bring a smile to her face but such faux happiness were only ever maintained for so long.

Then the day arrived: Kxeyìn. Asher. They were lost, possibly taken by the demons. Jake was focused as usual. Desperate to find Kxeyìn and bring her back to Amanti that he was quick to say his goodbyes to his family. Not to her though. She was coming, having had enough of him walking out on her every chance he got. She wanted to come along. To join the fight. He, of course, relented because there was no other way around the fact that he needed her help. And so, walking towards the roost of their ikrans, she snuck her hand around his and took it. She led him to a hidden spot in the shadowy depths of the cave where they remained unseen by prying eyes.

She could see his lips moving, ready to say something when she placed her hand over his mouth to silence the inevitable sarcasm that was willing to ruin this moment.

'Do you love me?' She asked. It was a silly question to ask. He loved her more than the world, more than anything, besides their children and their People obviously, but he did love her, and when he tried to get a word out to say it, she silenced him again.

This time, Neytiri leaned in, her breath hot against his skin as she asked again. 'Do… you… love… me?'

The galaxy was a footnote in the pang of her question. She wanted to hear it. Not robotically, not casually. But truthfully.

After a while, she finally slipped her hand down, hoping to hear the honest truth.

Jake stared at her. The infinity of time coiled into the collision of two worlds. One of Earth and one of Pandora. No longer of two but of one flesh.

The answer had become real for the first time in a long time.

"Yes," it was quick, sudden, but agonizing all the same. How long has it been that he said so? A day? A week? No, he thought. A year.

A full damn year.

Her eyes glared up to him, searching for his soul as she leaned up with her toes and gently laid a kiss on his bottom lip. Jake didn't react to her love. He stood still, his mind unraveling a mile a second until she gave him another kiss, shocking him out of his coma and pulling his lip down with her. Soon, they were enveloped with one another. Within that secret sanctuary, their embrace became heated, hungering for one another, and tinged with sweet agony.

It was no ordinary kiss on no ordinary day. This was different. Charged with an unquenchable passion. And between these kisses, she wanted him to know that there was a life behind what he was doing. With her. With their children and he couldn't be allowed to forget that.

He also wanted her to know he was going to protect her, their children, and their People. That nothing, no Sky People, no Asher, no dreamwalker, no disease, no war, was going to destroy this precious gift they shared.

It was beautiful.

I'll see that sunset with her soon enough. He told himself before snapping back to the pressing task at hand.

They were closing in on the remote edges of Ayram Alusìng, where the protective embrace of the mountains would soon vanish, leaving them exposed to the ever-watchful eyes of the RDA, and where they would truly be alone.

He clicked on his throat mike, "Neytiri. This is it. Stick close to me."

"Yes, ma Jeyk," she replied into his earpiece.

Focusing on their bond shared through tsaheylu, Jake urged Bob to fly faster.

The ikran responded with a reassuring chirp and immediately plunged ahead as Jake leaned into his ikran to minimize drag.

Neytiri followed behind them.

Racing alongside the lumbering mountains at breakneck speeds was an unparalleled thrill. No matter what was going on that day, he was here, in this moment, in his element. Soaring above the clouds, skimming past cascading waterfalls and dodging oncoming floating rocks. But beneath the rushing wind and the thrill of the flight was a nagging sense of hypocrisy stabbing at his conscience. It whispered that he shouldn't indulge. It was forbidden. For if he allowed this intoxicating joy to linger a moment longer, then he was unworthy to find her.

If she were one of my own kids... He didn't want to think about it. Not now.

But the intrusive thoughts paid little heed to his wishes. They breached the walls he had built to hold them at bay, and dove into the murky chasm of 'what-ifs.'

What if they found her and killed her? All the while, I'm out here, enjoying this?

The dark thoughts assailed his patience, intent on eroding what remained of them.

But what if I don't find her?

Jake clenched his jaw, frustration bubbling up.

And what do I tell Amanti? 'Sorry, I didn't want to find your daughter until I saw you struggling to get the door'?

His tail flicked restlessly from side to side.

Truth is Amanti. I never wanted to help you. I needed your warriors, and your daughter is expendable to me.

"Okay, I get it," Jake mumbled under his breath.

Who cares if she dies. As long as you owe my People your protection.

"Knock it off!" Jake shouted, his frustration boiling over. Bob screamed right along with him, both of them caught in the emotional turbulence of their bond.

As much as Jake tried to ignore these feelings, he knew he couldn't escape them forever. Try as he might, he couldn't convince himself that it wasn't true. Each time he did, the grudge he held against himself would surface right to the top and completely poison the well of goodwill he had. Then after he tried to recalibrate the emotions, the slow realization of self-humiliation as a failing Olo'eyktan would come and spoil the rest; one he didn't dare confess to anyone but to Neytiri when it pressed upon him like some disease he secretly had.

She also tried to convince him that it wasn't true, just like he did, and honestly, it did help to a certain degree but of course, the wife—the mate of the Olo'eyktan wasn't going to try and sabotage her relationship with him. Neither did Jake want to inflict more emotional baggage on her, forcing him to choose the less optimal path. The silent path. The warrior's path.

A path that Neytiri often pointed out the flaws in. She wanted him to speak more of this pain, but it sounded silly to him to do so. He was a Marine. How could he materialize the pain he had kept buried beneath all these years and make it make sense to her?

It was an impossible task.

To make matters worse, the Omatikaya were well aware of his struggles, as were the Tipani. Whispers and rumors followed him wherever he went. Some doubted his ability to lead the People, while others spread nefarious suggestions that he might betray them for helping Rayan Asher come to High Camp.

He never attempted to quell their curiosity. Which, in hindsight, might've been a bad idea but Jake wasn't one to silence the opinions of others. Including the opinions directed at him.

In any case, Jake knew what they said was out of genuine fear. Or was it? He tried to tell himself that he needed to know what Asher and the RDA were up to. A perfectly valid reason that went to ruin after the avatar went gallivanting with Kxeyìn.

Proving every rumor among the Na'vi true.

I really wish he didn't go with her.

Slicing through the perilous gaps of the colossal floating mountains, Jake took the lead, skillfully threading a path amidst the tangled vines that connected the peaks. His nimble maneuvering allowed them to evade the other mountain banshees engaged in their own private hunts, preventing the potential for an ikran skirmish that would only serve to further delay their mission, and quite possibly costing Kxeyìn's life.

Neytiri, meanwhile, moved in flawless synchrony with Jake. Her own fluid motions reminiscent of the days when they were younger and would playfully chase each other through these very same mountains in a cat-and-mouse game of who was the better rider. On most days, it was Neytiri who claimed victory, while Jake usually won only when he felt like it, often jokingly attributing his wins to her teasing.

This… teasing, as Jake described it, didn't make much sense to her. Because she didn't tease; she taught, and if her words came across as harsh, so be it. They were meant to be truthful and motivational, and her Jeyk should know the difference by now.

And instead of knowing the difference, Jake simply shook his head at her and humorously pointed to her hips, saying, 'Why do you think I let you win most of the time?'

The memory brought a small smile to her face until the same turbulent feeling that plagued Jake now churned her stomach, telling her they needed to hurry. Because out here, alone, she knew they would be followed by the invisible eyes in the sky.

It was almost six months ago when Neytiri first heard of these 'invisible eyes.' At the time, the Omatikaya were preparing to depart for the floating mountains when her scouts returned from their daily reconnaissance mission near Hell's Gate to inform her and Jake that the Sky People were strengthening their presence on their homeworld by using the old colony as a staging ground. This wasn't entirely unexpected, given that Jake had surrendered the base a week ago. However, they also happened to note in their oral report that the demons were also ceasing their attacks on the Na'vi.

'Why?' She asked.

The typical answer she received was that they were busy off-loading equipment, which presented itself as a valuable opportunity to strike back, they suggested. And she would have agreed with the idea if it were not for the fact they too were in the middle of preparations of their own to leave for the mountains.

Upon hearing the suggestion presented by the scouts, Jake quickly dismissed the idea, which should've ended her curiosity right then and there to request the scouts to conduct further recon missions around Hell's Gate. But knowing they needed every valuable able-bodied soul around, she too agreed with Jake's decision. It also happened to leave a bitter itch she could not scratch. Afterall, like her and many other Omatikaya rightly assessed previously before, the demons should have attacked them by now.

Yet, they did not.

Believing nothing else would come of it, she quietly set aside the troublesome thought and redirected her focus on leaving their home behind.

That was a mistake.

The following morning and less than thirty minutes after their departure, scouts alerted Jake to the presence of ten kunsìp materializing behind the sun's warm glow. They were fast, closing in on the gap with the Omatikaya fleet in the fraction of the time they appeared before firing on the ikrans carrying families. Jake immediately ordered the fleet to follow him, but it was a futile gesture that did little to deter their pursuers.

The Kestrels were faster and superior in every way to the Samson's. Not only did they manage to catch up to them, but whenever Jake and his fleet of Omatikaya evaded them, they were there. Displaying an eerie, almost supernatural knowledge of their location as Neytiri and Jake desperately sought ways to save their People.

Jake suggested they hide in the forest to the west of their current location. It was a bold risk, considering the open plains they would have to fly across. And with their backs turned to the reticle crosshair of every gunship present, it was going to be a grave gamble. Neytiri suggested they fly south, towards an old clan she believed would help them repel the kunsìp.

Jake almost agreed with her, except he felt the risk of exposing their neighbor to the RDA was too great. Neytiri, flying by his side, reluctantly concurred. Left with no other options, they made the daring flight across the open space.

The time it took to cross the plains stretched on longer than expected, transforming their journey into a disaster filled with fiery arrows too swift for the naked eye to follow. These tracers narrowly missed their bewildered faces, and while some managed to avoid being hit, others weren't so fortunate.

Neytiri was almost a casualty herself when her grip started to slip from the reins after a stray round had struck the toughened leather and snapped it, causing her to fall over to the side of her ikran. She was saved graciously by his outstretched wing that managed to keep her from falling completely over before grabbing onto his skin and pulling the rest of herself back onto him.

She was 'lucky', Jake would've said, but luck, if anything, was sparing in who it chooses to live and die. Right after she took back reins of her ikran, a large explosion tossed them both hurdling through the air.

A guided missile had screamed through the air before it struck a recently mated couple, cherished companions since childhood, vaporizing them right before her children's eyes.

Upon regaining control of her ikran, she looked back and saw the black billow of smoke rising to the air and the two trails that spiraled towards the ground. She yelled out who was hit. The answer came to her by the way of Neteyam, telling her who it was that died. Hearing the answer sent an anguished scream tearing through her throat as the madness played on and from which the onslaught showed no mercy. With an ever-shrinking avenue to escape, Jake rallied the fleet to follow him. They made it to the other side before veering them to a mountainous valley not far from their location. The valley itself was surrounded by an abundant source unobtanium, something Norm had once spoken of, and with nightfall looming, Jake hoped this would offer a temporary respite from the ongoing rage of violence.

It did. The Kestrels couldn't fly directly into them, but it meant little to SEC-OPS who had other ways to find them.

Sunrise was approaching when Jake sent the word down the chain that they were going to fly out to the mountains, believing from the scouts that the kunsìp were no longer interested in fighting them. It was another mistake that masqueraded itself as a favorable outcome. It also might as well have been a trap with how well suited the ambush was. As soon as they left the haven of the valley, they were attacked by the gunships. Tracers lit up the morning dawn, crisscrossing in such a manner that Jake was almost lost as to who was firing from where. Panic ensued and before long the Omatikaya were fleeing in various directions.

Several more were killed but his two older sons had the sound of mind to go after those that separated and reeled them back to the fleet. Jake had enough and began attacking the Kestrels head-on in a battle that seemed to last into infinity. The Kestrels, new vehicles to Jake's eyes, were built to withstand direct attacks, and favoring more a direct confrontation of their own. Neytiri knew right away their weak spots and exploited it. Each Kestrel was struck down, but not before losing ten more warriors. They were bleeding people and if any more attacks were to happen, they might not survive the journey to the floating mountains.

After collecting the lost Omatikaya, Jake again rallied them to follow him to the mountains. And again, they were found, and luckily this time, they were spared another battle as Jake and the Omatikaya had reached Aryam Alusìng in time before they were engaged in another pitiless fight. Nevertheless, the fact they were found that quickly led Jake to believe they were using:

'Drones,' he explained to Neytiri.

Such a concept was elusive to her understanding: creatures that could cloak themselves in the sky? Beings with eyes and wings but devoid of any pilot or consciousness? It was unimaginable, horrifying even and yet it made a perverse kind of sense.

Unimpressed by the way the demons behaved, Neytiri immediately found herself more unsettled by this notion of soulless metallic beasts. Because in her eyes, the Na'vi had cultivated their own time-honored methods of tracking prey, refined through years of meticulous training and hard-won experience. It required knowledge, patience, and, most crucially, the wisdom to choose when to strike and when to remain concealed. The Sky People would never understand what it takes to stalk prey through the jungle. To feel the endless aches of hunger made by your mistake. To wait until the perfect time arose to strike. And to know what a good kill feels and the smiles it presents when you return with a yerik on your shoulder. They will never be able to comprehend it. It is why they chose to use 'technology'. Because they were cowards.

Returning presently to these 'eyes in the skies', as Jake liked to call them, she hated that she could not find them and destroy them.

Which, despite their seeming invincibility, were not entirely impervious to mistakes.

A proven fact when one day, a drone of considerable size flew over the mountains in an attempt to zero-in on the whereabouts of the Omatikaya by searching the Tree of Souls first. Everything was going well, both for the operator and the drone. Visual information streamed through live-feeds unimpeded to the operations bay. Offering geologists an unfathomable view of the mountains themselves that was truly breathtaking. Everything from the mountainous peaks, to the way waterfalls fell into the open air. Everyone was infatuated with the mountains and with the mission going this smoothly, Ardmore believed they were close to finding the Omatikaya.

She soon directed the drone operator on where to go when the drone suddenly encountered mechanical issues caused by the intense magnetic resonance of Ayram Alusìng. They expected this happen, but not on this scale. She instructed them to revert to their backups, but the drone's entire system was failing—hard. They called it a cataclysmic failure. Cameras, once functioning, were now giving them static. and soon, the drone lost signal. and the drone itself soon spiraled out of control, crashing a mere mile away from the Tree of Souls during a prayer service.

The crash was loud enough that it stirred Jake into action, leading him, along with his sons and three other Omatikaya warriors into the depths of the forest to find the wreckage. That was where they stumbled upon the drone. Its wreck stretching for several yards, leading them to find the main body of the drone and the half-spherical dome built beneath its underbelly.

After breaking into the dome and taking the non-volatile memory back to High Camp, they discovered that it had captured several pictures before losing connection with Bridgehead. One of those pictures happened to include the mountain where High Camp was nestled in.

Great Mother was watching over them once again as that specific image had failed to transmit. Even if it did, the RDA wouldn't have been able to pinpoint the exact location of High Camp since they had no idea where the Omatikaya were hiding in. It was merely a stroke of luck that the drone happened to capture an image of their mountain and failed to relay it back to Bridgehead.

Adding to their good fortune on this fading day were the clouds. Any drone or satellite hoping to find them were going to have a hard time distinguishing the thermal signature of the clouds from the mountains. Further still was the abundance of fast-moving ikrans that populated the mountains. Making finding Jake and Neytiri a near impossible task for any trained eye and giving the two riders the necessary opportunity to slip right underneath their surveillance and find Kxeyìn without so much as having the Sky People trail after them.

Jake threw a hand gesture to Neytiri, indicating his intention to fly closer to the trees. He believed that the trees would still be warm from the sun's rays beating down on them all day. Giving them adequate time for them to blend in if the RDA were in fact trying to find them. Neytiri understood the signal and began to slow down before aligning herself behind him.

This wasn't a foolproof plan. If the drones happened to look at them at the right angle, then it was over. But if they didn't, then they should appear as a single ikran.

Though this wasn't the only tactic Jake employed. He took every precaution he could when venturing this far out. From keeping radio communication to HC to a minimal, to counting every cartridge, every fruit, every arrow, and every bead on his necklace that he brought with him to ensure they didn't give some SEC-OPS grunt an idea of where they were simply because Jake just so happened to toss the leftovers of utumauti on the ground.

Additionally, he tried to track and trace the patrol patterns of SEC-OPS. However, this proved to be a formidable challenge since he couldn't risk sending a scout to shadow them without the risk of discovery.

Jake was desperate for an advantage over Ardmore.

Ironically, his only leverage against the RDA was also the most reviled man in High Camp.

Before Jake could utilize this leverage, though, he had to rescue Kxeyìn. However, locating her posed a complex task. It required knowledge of her last known location, which, oddly enough, they had due to SEC-OPS firing upon Saeyla and her riders. Sadly, this supposed known location was several kilometers wide. A needle in a haystack when contending with dense foliage, multiple rivers and a bioluminescent forest.

If she was out here, then finding her required sharp eyes, attentive focus, and a bit of luck.

The only remaining question was whether she was still there—alive and breathing.

With no answer to this question and no alternatives left, Jake prepared to venture as far as necessary to find her.

"Come on, Bob," Jake exclaimed, "Let's find her." His ikran chirped in agreement.


High Camp

"Oh, pardon me, Olo'eyktan! I wasn't aware you were in charge now," Lo'ak exclaimed, his voice brimming with twisted indignation as he spun around to head back to the marui.

"I am not!" Neteyam retorted. It wasn't a lie, but neither was it the complete truth. Whenever their parents were absent, the unspoken expectation was that the responsibility of overseeing the clan fell primarily on Neteyam's shoulders. Mo'at, the Omatikaya warriors, and others certainly contributed, but it was clear that Neteyam was the leader of the Omatikaya in times of Jake's absence. No one contested it. No one questioned it. No one even suggested that someone else should be in charge. Everyone understood that Neteyam's future was to become an Olo'eyktan, and the elders of the tripe helped shape his leadership skills. It was only in moments of sibling rivalry, like now, that Lo'ak took issue with the arrangement, feeling that he was being left out.

"Uhuh."

Neteyam leaped ahead of Lo'ak, blocking his path to the marui. "Are you really this jealous?"

Lo'ak looked at his brother, his expression hardening, then quickly shoved him aside.

"Lo'ak!" Neteyam cried after him.

"I'm tired of dad picking you over me."

"He picked me because I listen," Neteyam explained, pointing to his own ear as Lo'ak entered the marui.

Kiri was near the entrance, trying to hang their father's bow back up. It had been knocked down by accident during some rough-housing between her and Tuktirey, and Lo'ak's entrance nearly sent it tumbling again.

"Hi, Lo'ak!" She greeted, her hands adjusting the bow.

"He picked you because..." Lo'ak glanced back at Neteyam with a sharp, accusing glare, ignoring Kiri completely, "...You're his favorite."

"That is…" Neteyam began to respond but lost his words, allowing his shoulders to sag in defeat as he observed Lo'ak sitting down on their parents' bed. "...not fair, Lo'ak."

As Neteyam approached his brother, his only desire was to foster understanding, but Lo'ak steadfastly refused to meet his gaze, offering silence in lieu of words. "Why do you always make me feel like crap?"

"It sucks, doesn't it?" Lo'ak replied.

"What? To make me feel like crap?"

Lo'ak glared up at him, a storm of anger brewing within him as he fought to contain his last ounce of patience. His legs stirred restlessly, threatening to kick at Neteyam's feet. His older brother edged back, wary of Lo'ak's rising temper.

"Knock it off, Lo'ak, and talk to me."

Lo'ak's kicks intensified as Neteyam backed away more.

"Stop it, Lo'ak. I mean it."

"Or what?"

"Or I'm going to hit you."

"You hit like a girl."

Neteyam clenched his fist, ready to strike, but hesitated when he saw Kiri intervene.

"Lo'ak, stop it," she implored, "that's not kind of you," she placed a hand on his chest to pull him away from Neteyam before her brother did something he'd regret.

"Why don't you just leave me alone, Kiri!" Lo'ak shouted. His words reverberated beyond the marui, catching the attention of several nearby Na'vi who glanced over, curious about the commotion.

"Lo'ak… I didn't mean to—"

"Shut up!" Lo'ak yelled, making a move for the entrance, but Neteyam stepped in front of him to block his way. The two brothers locked eyes, Neteyam's gaze stern and Lo'ak's defiant.

"What are you going to do, hit me?" Lo'ak taunted.

"You want me to? Is that it? You want me to hit you?" Neteyam replied, drawing his face closer to Lo'ak's. Meanwhile, Tuktirey had entered the scene, observed her brothers verbally sparring, and nonchalantly walked over to Kiri.

"Hi Kiri, look at what the Tipani gave me," she said, displaying a wooden toy.

Kiri, still absorbed in the brewing confrontation between her brothers, didn't notice Tuktirey until she felt the toy pressed against her leg. "Huh?" She looked down and met Tuk-Tuk's innocent gaze, holding the toy in her small hand.

"Oh-uh, I didn't see you, Tuk. Is that your toy?"

The toy resembled a pa'li, complete with colorful painted features. Concerned that Tuktirey might witness her brothers' fight, Kiri knelt down and examined the toy, her fingers tracing the smooth surface as she smiled at her youngest sister.

"What did you name her?"

"Him," Tuk corrected, "and his name is ftxì, because he has a long one when he eats!"

"Oh, that's a beautiful name."

Meanwhile—

"I'm gonna beat your ass, Net!"

"I am waiting sweetheart!"

Both brothers now had their foreheads pressed against each other, their voices laden with challenges to provoke the other into taking the first swing. It seemed like a bout of empty threats and bravado until Lo'ak unexpectedly struck Neteyam in the stomach, causing him to stumbled briefly before regaining his balance and mounting a counterattack.

"Oh no," Kiri gasped, rising to her feet.

Tuktirey remained unfazed, happily engrossed in playing with her new toy. In her imagination, the marui floor transformed into vast open plains she once saw when they made their way to their new home, while Ftxì pretended to graze on invisible flowers before embarking on his journey over her big sister's toes.

Neteyam's fist landed on Lo'ak's face, sending both of them tumbling to the ground. They grappled with each other, each vying for dominance until Neteyam finally managed to secure the upper hand and straddled his brother, his clenched fist poised for a finishing blow. But the blow never descended; the fist remained suspended as he watched Lo'ak's tears break free.

"Tough guy does not want to fight anymore?" Neteyam challenged.

"You're such an asshole!" Lo'ak shouted and nicked him in the chin, sending his brother fumbling back as Lo'ak kicked him out from underneath.

"Stop it!" Kiri's voice rang out, but her words fell on deaf ears as Lo'ak scrambled to his feet and made a swift exit from the marui. Neteyam, his face marked by blood, glanced at his two stained fingers before quickly rising to his feet to give chase.

Outside of the marui, Lo'ak ran through the Omatikaya camp, his mind a wander as to where to go before deciding to head up towards the surface of the mountain.

He didn't need this crap from anyone. Especially not Neteyam. Dad always picked him for every stupid thing imaginable!

"Net, do me a favor. Neteyam, how about you help me out here? Net, why don't you come with me. It's always about him!" Lo'ak muttered bitterly under his breath. He paid no heed to the worried expressions of Omatikaya weavers he passed by. His only concern was to get out of here.

And the only place he could find solitude was up on top of High Camp.

After running out from their family's marui, Neteyam looked about before spotting his brother fleeing for the surface and quickly followed him there.

On the mountaintop, Lo'ak surveyed his surroundings, ensuring he wasn't being pursued. The surrounding trees became his unwilling audience as he vented his anger at them and pummeled the air, shouting into the uncaring winds, and booting rocks in a fit of rage. When he felt as though he got it out of his system, he slumped down beside a puddle, his reflection mirroring the wounds inflicted upon him by his older brother – a nasty, bloody gash on his lip and a bruised cheek that was bound to turn a painful shade of purple.

He knew mom and dad were never going to forgive either of them for this. But he didn't care. Neteyam deserved it!

Curious of how bad the wounds were, he gingerly touched the injuries and winced at the pain. They felt like thorns and thistles. They didn't hurt unless he touched them.

"I hate him," he whispered. "Asshole. That's all he is. An asshole." Lo'ak struck out at the water's surface with his foot, watching as the ripples gradually unveiled Neteyam's face.

Then, a voice, soft and unexpected, shattered the moment. "Maybe I am," Neteyam admitted, his words startling Lo'ak. He stood on his feet, his body tense and ready for whatever action his brother might take.

"You want to fight again?" Lo'ak challenged, his voice quivering, fists clenched. "C'mon. Let's finish this already!"

"I did not realize how much I have hurt you, Lo'ak," Neteyam said, slowly lifting his hand to gesture towards the wounds on his brother's face.

Lo'ak quickly swatted at his hand. "C'mon!"

"You are right, Lo'ak. Dad does pick me over you."

Lo'ak blinked. "What? No. Stop being a girl and fight me you prick!"

"No… I am not going to do that."

Lo'ak's scowl deepened, and he persisted in his challenge. "Fight me!"

"Okay, you want to fight?"

"Yes!"

Neteyam took a step back, arms spread wide. "Take your best shot then."

"No. You have to fight me. I'm not going to hit you."

"Oh? So now you are picking when to fight?"

"Shut up with the riddles and fight!"

"Did you not hear me? I said to take your best shot."

"Fine. You ask'd for it!" Lo'ak swung hard but amazingly missed as Neteyam ducked and weaved to the right of his brother.

"I thought you were going to hit me. What happened?"

Lo'ak snarled and swung another punch, only to miss again. "Would you stop trying to flee from me!"

"I am not doing anything," Neteyam said, his arms still open to his brother.

At this point, Lo'ak was growing frustrated, trying to elbow and kick his older brother but consistently missing his shots, hitting only air.

"This is getting silly," Neteyam noted, his voice tinged with sly sarcasm.

"Stop moving!" Lo'ak's voice was strained, his patience wearing thin. After another failed punch, he growled, "Would you stop dodging me!"

Then, with a burst of desperation, Lo'ak finally connected, landing a solid blow on Neteyam's nose. Blood trickled from the wound, but Neteyam remained unfazed, standing still as he wiped the blood away with his forearm.

"Happy?" Neteyam asked, his voice calm, almost mocking.

With his fists still at the ready, Lo'ak grinned. "No," and threw another punch. The punch missed once more, but instead of allowing him to withdraw his hand, Neteyam grabbed it and slowly pushed the captured hand back into Lo'ak's chest until his younger brother could feel his breath.

"Are you prepared to fight? To kill?" Neteyam's voice was calm, his gaze unwavering as he held Lo'ak's hand against his chest. He searched his younger brother's eyes, seeking an answer beyond words.

Lo'ak met his gaze, struggling to convey readiness, but the truth was, it wasn't enough to convince Neteyam. Their training, imparted by their father, had its limitations. No matter how much they sparred, hunted, and trained, it could never fully prepare them for the day they might have to take a life. Neteyam had hoped that Lo'ak would understand this, but it was evident that his younger brother wasn't yet ready to grasp the gravity of taking a life.

"You are not ready."

"And what makes you think you're any more ready than I am?" Lo'ak challenged.

"Lo'ak… I do not want to kill."

The younger brother chuckled. "That's obvious."

Neteyam held Lo'ak still, his gaze unwavering. "Do you find this funny? Do you think you can kill? You think you can take a life? So eager to become the warrior you envision in yourself that it has blinded you to who you really are. And you know what, Lo'ak? It hurts me more that you don't understand this."

Lo'ak shoved him away. "I am a warrior!"

"Then prove it." Neteyam unsheathed his blade and handed it to him. "You want to kill then you need to take my life."

"I'm not going to do that, skxawng!" He backed away from the knife. "Are you suffering from keye'ung? You are, aren't you? Really pathetic to see my older brother becoming crazy like this."

Neteyam pushed the knife closer to him, "take it and kill me."

"I am not going to!"

"Then you are not ready!" Neteyam shouted and swung the blade toward his brother's face. Lo'ak dodged it, his eyes suddenly wide with fear.

"What the hell are you doing, Net?!"

"What's wrong?" Neteyam said as he pointed the tip of the blade to Lo'ak. "Is that fear gripping you?"

"I'm not afraid."

"Then take my knife."

"No!" He yelled and pushed Neteyam away.

Neteyam stood his ground, his eyes never leaving Lo'ak. "You are," he argued as he skillfully flipped the blade between his fingers. "And I am going to show you just how unprepared you are."

The blade gleamed under the dying light as it thrusted toward Lo'ak's chest. The younger brother had the foresight to deflect the blade with the palm of his hand, but before he could catch his breath, Neteyam's heavier hand lunged at him. Lo'ak ducked, narrowly avoiding the fist, but then he saw the knife's tip coming around for his throat. Panic surged within him.

Is he mad? He's trying to kill me!

Years of training had prepared him, and now, his instincts kicked in, granting him the necessary edge and in that very moment, Lo'ak became blind to the belief that this was his brother.

In a desperate move, Lo'ak seized the threatening hand, using its momentum to toss his older brother over his shoulder and onto the ground. He maintained a firm grip on the wrist that held the knife. Lo'ak circled around, bending the arm and twisting it just enough to be ready to break Neteyam's wrist. But he hesitated.

Neteyam looked up at him with a mixture of approval and exhaustion. "Almost," he breathed out.

Lo'ak stood over him, sweat glistening on his brow. He finally released his grip, took a step back, and muttered, "You're crazy, bro!"

Neteyam leapt up to his feet, rolled his arm around and swiftly sheathed the blade back.

Lo'ak began walking away. Over his shoulder, he muttered, "I'm not going to kill you. You're my—"

"Brother?" Neteyam finished for him.

"Yes." He looked back, studying his older brother's expression. "I mean, what else?"

"Then why do you hate me?"

His gaze quickly fell to the ground around Neteyam. "I—…I just. I hate… I don't know."

"You do not know?"

There was trembling in his voice as Lo'ak answered, "Yeah… I don't know."

Neteyam cautiously approached his brother who had backed away and now sat near the cliff's edge, absentmindedly tossing rocks and watching them plummet to the forest below.

"Lo'ak," Neteyam spoke softly, taking a seat beside his brother. "You know you can talk to me, right? Whatever is bothering you, I'm here for you."

A heavy, brooding silence settled between the two brothers as Lo'ak stared off into the distant horizon framed by the gaps in the mountain range. His gaze languished between contemplation and internal turmoil. Neither of which Neteyam could feel as he looked on at the horizon with his brother. Watching as the final shards of light disappeared behind the edge.

"I don't want to talk about it," Lo'ak finally broke the silence.

Neteyam, though, couldn't suppress a faint chuckle. "Why? Because of me?"

"Because I don't want to, okay? Why is that so hard for you to understand?"

Neteyam, ever the patient older brother, couldn't help but frown in response. He was genuinely concerned about Lo'ak's well-being and wanted to help. At the same time, he knew that if he pushed any further then Lo'ak was going to end up ignoring him. He had to tread carefully.

"I am… only trying to be your brother."

Lo'ak sighed. The anger he had been harboring since their arrival at High Camp continued to manifest itself in outbursts towards both his brother and himself. And while Lo'ak wanted nothing more than to explain these feelings to Net, he couldn't. It wouldn't make sense to either of them. Afraid that he might get tongue tied in the explanation, sending Neteyam on a whirlwind of confused looks as Lo'ak tried to offer some semblance of understanding. Then, out of force of habit, Lo'ak would backtrack to such a degree that it would render him uncharacteristically nervous. Inviting Neteyam to investigate further until he couldn't understand anymore or possibly get the wrong impression that it would send him back to dad, and Lo'ak didn't need that right now.

It was a sense of helplessness that Lo'ak couldn't shake off. Trapping him between his desire to open up and the fear of causing more harm than good.

Sitting quietly and blindly tossing another rock, Lo'ak shared this quiet, poignant moment together, bloodied, bruised, and aching before he spoke again, asking with seriousness, "So, were you really going to kill me?"

Neteyam looked at him, then burst into laughter without missing a beat, "No!"

Lo'ak pressed further, "And what if you stabbed me?"

"I was not going to."

"You were pretty close."

Neteyam playfully elbowed him. "I am your older brother, and that makes my reflexes superior to yours."

Lo'ak wore an expression of intrigue, ears flattening slightly as he contemplated the idea that his older brother might indeed be faster. Eager to test this theory, Lo'ak raised his fist, pretending to strike at Neteyam's face. The older brother proved his point by quickly dodging the imaginary attack, leaving Lo'ak's fist suspended mid-air and close to Neteyam's face. Slowly surfacing on Lo'ak's face was that grin Neteyam was all too used to seeing by now.

"Oh! So you are fast! …For a girl," Lo'ak teased.

Neteyam smiled returned. "You know I love you, right? I was never going to hurt you."

"Heh. After what I saw? Yeah, I know. And I love you too."

Neteyam chuckled. "That really sounded cheesy, you know?"

Lo'ak grinned, the moonlight revealing the softer side of his face. "You said it first."

"Yeah, that is how you are supposed to do it."

"Supposed to do what?"

"The man should share his feelings first. Anything after that is cheesy coming from anyone else." Neteyam elaborated.

"Net. Do you know what cheese is?"

"No, but I imagine it has to do with your heart being smelly."

Lo'ak's brows furrowed in playful confusion. "What?"

"Yeah. Smelly. That is what mother told me."

"Uh…"

"Your heart is really smelly right now."

Lo'ak burst out laughing. "Dad said it was food."

"That sounds wrong," Neteyam argued, believing wholly that it referred to smelling awful.

"It doesn't make sense to have a smelly heart. You can't even smell your heart!"

"I can smell yours."

"That's because I was helping our grandmother grind spices, if you must know."

"Keep telling yourself that, smelly heart."

"Net!" Lo'ak exclaimed, their banter spiraling into more laughter.