The Forgiven; The Remembered — Chapter I
Omatikaya Village (Undisclosed Location), 2168
The rhythmic plip-plop of raindrops falling on the large green leaves of the weald imitated the far-distant drums that were heard echoing throughout the alien jungle. Over time, the rainwater, heavy and plenty, begins to trickle down the bodies of various tree trunks and plant stems, until at last, they coalesced at the bottom of the jungle floor. There, the true ritual begins. Gravity and a little push of momentum starts to carve out pathways across the ground, each turning into veins of streams that feeds into various parts of the grand forest, keeping alive the beating heart of the moon.
And amidst this vast labyrinth of trees and woven streams are strange, exotic creatures. Many of whom bear no resemblance to any known creature long-extinct on Earth. Some have evolved to great heights, towering above their prey. Some have developed wingspans, so uniquely peculiar that scientists are left whispering in bafflement in how the aerodynamics work. While others are indeed smaller than the human hand and whose tiny defenseless bodies have scattered to find refuge from the rain.
Across the forest are the sounds of shrieks, shrills, clicks, hoots, and howls. Each an instrument in a symphony of natural music. Bringing together the allegro of an overture that will not end until the first sun rises above the horizon. For tonight, the Pandoran forest comes alive.
But something else is also alive on this rainy night. A creature with the inky skin to match the darken skies, lays perfectly still, perfectly silent, as though subdued by the wild purple-shaded bushes it sits under now.
Eons of finely crafted evolution have sharpened her sense of sight, allowing her to pierce through the low-light of the bioluminescence to find her prey lingering by the vein of freshly curated water. Hungry, she licks her jawline, knowing that the taste of yerik flesh will once again satisfy her. She finds herself unable to wait but she knows patience is her ally. She must trust her instincts now more than ever.
She scans one last time of her surroundings, ensuring for herself that nothing else will get in the way between her and her meal. She moves with slow but calculated movements beneath the overgrowth, careful not to give away her position to the unsuspecting yerik. When she is ready, she explodes, like thundering lighting striking the ground from up on high, with ferocious speed and deadly teeth.
The yerik hears something rustling beyond the bush-line. Raising his head from drinking, the hexapede spots the dark liquid hurtling towards him. Fight-or-flight instincts kick into overdrive, his hind muscles loosen, gaining the necessary advantage to dart into the shadowy depths of the forest and escaping what could be his final day on Pandora.
Leaves, grass, twigs, and sticks crackle and rustle under the hexapede's hooves as he attempts to outrun the fanged predator, which is just as fast—if not faster than him. Relying on his wits to survive, he leaps over a log, narrowly dodging an obstacle that might have ended his run. The antelope-like creature barely evades the fierce claws that took a swipe for his hindquarters. Desperate and fearful, he searches for another route, and ultimately chooses the stream where the rushing water confuses the viperwolf's hearing. But only for a moment, as the predator's acute vision spots the scrambling hexapede on the opposite bank.
The chase resumes, the viperwolf's heart pounding and her lungs taking in more air, fulfilling the evolutionary design of her legs by gaining more ground than the hexapede.
The rear hind legs of the hexapede kicks up water, grass, and debris, flinging them all in a disorientating campaign at the viperwolf but it fails to stop the beast. The viperwolf, close to leaping and nabbing its meal by the hindquarters, misses again as the hexapede makes a sharp right, denying the viperwolf of her prey before misjudging the terrain. Her front foot catches a root, causing her to trip and tumble down the slope of the hill. Fumbling over on her haunches, the hunter howls in pain and frustration. She staggers onto her remaining legs, one rendered useless by the injury, and stares up at the hexapede, which walks around the edge of the hill, paying no mind to the peril of death he narrowly escaped.
Drawing his attention elsewhere, the hexapede keeps walking when he feels the weight of a thousand worlds tackling him down the same slope. Serrated teeth punctures his neck, leaving him to squeal in anguish before succumbing to the pressure of death. The deer-like creature lies on the forest floor, bleeding and becoming dinner for the viperwolf family that encircles their latest meal.
Licking her wounds, the female-alpha looks on as the hexapede is devoured by her family. Though unfortunate for the yerik, his death sustains the life of others.
It is simply the way of life on Pandora.
Gnawing on their meal, the viperwolf pups rolls in the puddle of blood, satisfied that mother and father had caught them a kill. But tonight was not yet over for the viperwolves. Out from the cool night came the reverberation of the air they felt rattling their bodies. Their eyes peer beneath the bioluminescence, searching from where this sound was coming from. Their heightened senses directed their attention to the dancing shadows, cast by fire and flame. Beyond the tall trees, overgrown bushes, and spiraling plants was a greater threat to them. A taller—bluer threat.
The air quakes again, sending the warning for the viperwolves to flee. One pup picks up a dismembered leg, not desiring it to be wasted as the family fades into the forest. They will not be seen again, if ever.
The drumming continues, its pattern growing louder, throbbing the waters of the streams, shivering the leaves on the trees, and making known that the Omatikaya were still here—still alive.
The all-seeing eye of Polyphemus looks down through the clouds with heliotrope light fracturing through the storm, shimmering down as a veil over the rising smoke. Bodies dancing together around the great fire are baptized in both the light of the father and of the fire that lashes the air. For tonight is a time of celebration, a time of praise, a time of forgiveness, and a time for love.
Long ago, their Hometree—Kelutral—was turned into a searing cinder of ruin and memory, forever burned into history that the Omatikaya will remember for eternity or for as long as the stars in heaven remain alive.
Among each of their faces were smiles and laughter. Their tails dancing along their movements while hands held one another. Their bodies were painted in an assortment of colors, giving dazzling patterns and sharing symbolic messages to the spirits of the ancestors.
The song they sing steadily rises into the air, their voices climbing in harmony with their feet dancing alongside to the beat. Rain pelts their faces, drenching them but not extinguishing their enthusiasm of tonight's celebration. Alongside celebrating life, they are also embracing their newest member as one of their own—Tarsem, the orphan who became a warrior, a warrior who is destined to protect the People and the People who welcomed him as their own.
The singing grows louder, and the faces become jovial as Swiewi brings Tarsem by the hand to the dancing circle.
"Tarsem!" The People cheered.
He looks over each of their faces. Many were young, like him, but some were old and familiar. Among such a face that pulled his attention was Mo'at, the spiritual guide of the clan who was standing atop of a wooden structure overlooking the bonfire that was started.
Her face warmly greets Tarsem as she watches him walk around the circle, tentatively testing how to start dancing without breaking the rhythm. She knew how much heartache he had suffered since the days of losing his parents. But Jake and her daughter, Neytiri, have proven to be good parents to young Tarsem following the deaths of his parents. However, not replacements for his parents, he still learned a lot and is still learning a great deal more.
"You are One with us young Tarsem." She said earlier to him.
"Irayo, Tsahìk."
Next, she hugged his chosen mate, Swiewi. A beautiful and remarkable young woman that Mo'at had grown fond of being around in recent days.
"You must take care of him." Mo'at told her, "he is my son as much as your mate."
"I will, Tsahìk."
Hugging her, she smiles and nods for them to return to the celebration. These were the memories Mo'at wanted and what she holds close to her heart.
Swiewi notices a break in the circle and reaching over, she grabs Tarsem's other hand, pulling him further to the circle and fully integrating themselves into the dance. He is unable to hold back a laughter as he feels the warm love that was once fleeting for him for so many years. When the music slows down and becomes more sensual, Tarsem pulls Swiewi close and whispers loving words into her ear, words that melts her into his embrace.
Leaning against a tree at the far end of the Omatikaya home, a half-faded face watches as the two young lovers lose themselves in each other's embrace. The daughter of Eytukan and Mo'at, mate to Tsyeyk Suli, and veteran of the Pandoran War, looks on with a wistful gaze. She could recall a time when she too felt a similar love that she now sees radiating from both Tarsem and Swiewi. A love that has never left her but seemed to have been dimmed by time, by children, and by the future of her People.
Emerging from beneath the depths of the shadows, Neytiri smiles as the newfound couple begin to find a isolated place to be alone. Others could see that Neytiri was wrapped in a beautifully woven plant fiber, decorated with beads, jewels of stone, and colorful dyes that her great-great mother once made before she was ever born. It fitted her perfectly, making use of the curves she gained from her three children. A subconscious element slowly draws a hand to rub the side of her arm, trying to remember when her Jake held her for the first time before he too became One of the People.
Sighing at the vivid memory, she feels his masculine strength wrapping around her, like a specter in the fog of her mind, she sees his eyes looking and his lips, smiling mischievously before the words of lust takes hold of her.
Has it been so long that she has forgotten what this feeling was like?
She looks down at the ground around her, not desiring to curse at her remorse but angry at the fact that she has not been loved in so many passing moons.
Jake sought ways to distract himself more and more lately, turning to fantastical ideas of the 'return' of the Sky People or survival training with his children — as though he was in a constant state of war. And in the wake of his distractions was Neytiri. Alone. Wondering when he was going to return to her from the long voyage in his head.
She sighs again. A pinch of pain broke through her ill-fated trance as she glances down, finding that her hand had been tightening around her arm this entire time. She pulls the hand away and stares at the palm of her hand, enchanted by the lines that have shown years of work, years of time.
Where is ma Jeyk? She thought to herself.
Glancing about, she wanted to find him and speak to him about dancing together, like Tarsem and Swiewi had done, before the circle dissolves into the night, before her chance of returning to the past, however brief, vanishes.
Feeling a chill through the air, Neytiri started moving closer to the fire when she heard her young one giggling. It was a small laugh, escaping out from between the torches of light, followed by a small blue body running through the night.
It was her relentless hunter, Tuktirey.
"Tuk?" She called out.
The young one rushes beneath her mother's towering presence, choosing to hide behind her right leg from which she used to peek out from.
"Hi mother!" Tuk answered, then shot a finger to Lo'ak who was now hissing for Tuktirey to get out from beneath their mother.
"The skxawng is trying to get me to play with him!" She said, her tongue sticking out to taunt the young boy.
"Skxawng? Are you calling me a skxawng?" Lo'ak said, his face crooked with a hint of sarcasm tempting his face.
Hunching over, he raises his hands to the air, replicating a dangerous animal.
"I am, and you are!" The little girl retorted. Her toothy smile flashing across her face.
"I am a beast of the hidden forest! Come and face me warrior!" Lo'ak challenged, his tail flailing behind the emotional gibe.
"Where is your father?" Neytiri asked of her young son.
The question was something he did not quite have an answer for. The last time he saw dad was when he was talking to Tarsem in private. But that was before Tarsem had come out and joined the dance.
"Uhm, I do not know..." Lo'ak answered, his eyes glancing over his shoulder to Tarsem who was dancing among the People. Maybe dad was with them too? "Isn't dad with the People?"
Neytiri shook her head. "No, my son. I did not see your father there."
Neytiri's puzzled expression withered back to a gentle smile, thankful that her children were safe, regardless of their missing father at the moment.
Tuk meanwhile took the opportunity to escape Lo'ak's clutches. She fled off towards the center, Lo'ak right behind her before disappearing somewhere in the lurking shadows of home. Seeing them play warmed her soul. There was never a time Neytiri doubted herself as a mother but knowing they were this happy was the added bonus she never thought she needed.
Folding her arms, she decided to take her own kind of opportunity and hunt for her missing mate. Despite the loss of their Hometree, the Omaticaya took immense stride in rebuilding, including creating huts around a small community of trees. The reason for this strange strategy that seemingly brought the Omatikaya around the forest floor, was, in Jake's view, to prevent another destruction of another Hometree.
Such a view, in Neytiri's personal opinion, did not make sense. Afterall, the Sky People had not been seen in thirteen long years. If they were to come, they would have done it sooner, than later. However much she disagreed with Jake on that notion, she didn't argue with him. For wherever they went, she followed and where the People were, was her home. She could be anywhere on this moon, but never without them and most importantly, never without her family.
As for her mate, she panged for his comfort as her inquisitive investigation led her to look above.
All along the ridgeline of trees and bushes were various structured tents. Many were elaborate, showing signs of whose tent belonged to who. With the least decorated being their own. Though, not for the inside. She decorated the entire room with a beautiful array of bountiful flower petals, whose scent cleared the tent of Jake's unsanitary hunts. And webbing the ceiling were woven fibers, with colors ranging from yellow to purple.
Neytiri reaches out and grabs onto a sturdy tree limb, bringing herself beside the it before her feet leans out to nimbly establishes her weight alongside another tree limb. By the third breath, she had reached the level of their hut. The climb had taken the wind out of her, but the artificial light seeping through the gaps of their tent indicated that Jake was still working. She tried her best to suppress the annoyance that threatened to bubble up, keeping her composure as she carefully placed one foot in front of the other, making sure not to make any sound that would alert her mate.
This was like a new hunt against an intelligent prey and if surprised, he had had both the strength and stamina to pin her to the ground. Something about that thought transcended into her torso, warming it. Now was not the time! Remaining silent, she moved with agility of a palulukan. Stalking her newfound prey from the darkness of the night.
Inside the tent hid away the man of the lost hour. Sweat beading along his concentration, Jake remained immersed in his task as deft fingers flicked and danced over the frame of a weapon that did not belong to any of the People. The light from the metal lamp illuminates the ejection port on the rifle, showing him what he needed to do as his mounting frustration grows ever stronger. He started to hear Neytiri words, reminding him not to pollute their world with that of the Sky People's world, but as he looked down to the rifle, the promise to protect the People overrode her wants. However, this came at a cost that he failed to fully recognize, as his need to safeguard Neytiri, the family, and the Omatikaya clouded his judgment.
Outside, the hunter of the forest curled her fingers around the edges of the leather-skin, pulling it with enough ease that she could see the outline of her mate's silhouette but not to expose herself fully to his attention. She could see his body hunched over the portable human table he had stashed away, his hands and arms moving with orchestrated speed.
Her ears, curious and instinctive, fanned forward, picking up sounds of metal clinking and clanking, springs pressing together pass their design manufacturing point and grease sliding across the frame while a tail behind the body whipped about, electrified by the intense concentration to fix his weapon.
"Got it," he breathed out under a decibel of a whisper.
His jaw tensed and grated together as he tried to push the charging handle back. It refused, leading Jake to leverage the weapon on his lap with no success. The anger fused together with his irritation fuming as he swung the weapon back over the table and planted the butt of the rifle over it. Raising the rifle, he then slammed the rifle down against the table with a loud enough thud that Neytiri recoiled.
He did the action over and over again until a gasp of excitement was released from his lips and the charging handle finally gave in. The ejection port spat out a cartridge, tossing it wildly into the air until it smacked against something soft and fleshy; the kind of sound that drew the pointed ears back to recognize that the brass cartridge did not hit something solid, instead choosing to hit something…
"Neytiri?" Jake said, surprised to find her here.
The way Jake said her name made it seem as though he was caught having an affair. He almost wished he did.
Neytiri found the surprise on his face somewhat strange as he swiveled on the stool to face her. As she looked down, curious as to what hit her, she discovered the spinning cartridge on the floor giving off a glinting wink with each spin-around. The momentum eventually wore out enough for Neytiri to bend down and pick up the odd-looking object that her mate was so fond of toying with.
As she held the object up to her eye, her initial fascination quickly dissipated as she rolled the cartridge between her fingers, feeling only cold, hard metal. It was something that her own People would never create, but it was all too familiar to her. This was the kind of object that had killed so many of her own, including Tsu'tey, and here was Jake, playing with it as though it were some sort of toy. It was as if he had no understanding of the danger it posed, or the damage it could do.
He also promised not to do this around the People. Why was he so careless?
The stunned marine maintained his fixed gaze on her, hoping she would not retaliate but when she stood next to him to place the cartridge back on the table, he sighed. Relieved she did not chew him out a third time this month.
"I know, but—"
She leaned into the table, her head blocking the lamp's light, creating a silhouette of glowing dots from her face. A memory flashed across his vision from the first time he met her.
"You—" She said with the warmness of the burning day. "—are missed by your People. By me."
He remembered when she started with 'You' it also ended with her comparing him to a child. Times have truly changed.
Ears falling, Jake pulled himself away from the weapon to focus on her. What she said was true, but his mind insisted on working. There was no time for breaks, no time for vacations, no time for—
"Where are you, ma Jeyk?" She asked as she cupped a hand to his cheek, bringing him back to her.
Jake was caught off by her sincere gaze, enchanted by how the light from the lamp made the chatoyant eyes sparkle.
What did I do deserve such a woman? He thought.
Licking his lips, he prepared a speech but as he opened his mouth, stuttering thoughts fell out as weak as the rain.
"Ne-Neytiri. I just feel—" Jake paused mid-sentence to look down at the weapon. Then he was reminded why he was doing what he was doing.
"—I have to prepare. I'm protecting our People, our family."
Again with this! Neytiri bit down on her lips, the curse rising again to meet his ears. But another part of her wanted to understand more of his mind. Cupping his other cheek, she drew him in.
"You have done that." She said. "You have protected us all, even from your own people who now sleep in their metal world."
"They are coming. I can feel it."
She did not quite understand what he was saying but he was not about to burden her with his concerns as a hand of his slipped over her own, caressing them.
Her ears flatten against his words, "but you said yourself, if they had not come in six… what is it that you say?"
"Years."
She nodded, "yes, these years. Then they will not come at all."
He shook his head as he brought her hands down to meet them together by his knees. "My people," he began to say as she crouched in front of him.
"If they are anything like me, which I can guarantee you they are and much more, then they will come back. They will do everything in their power to get it."
Her tail whirled then snapped at such a statement.
He could sense the betrayal that he once committed against her People by lying. However, he knew if he told her this all those years ago, then she would not have believed him or maybe she would have and who knew what she could do to him then.
"And I will do everything in my power to make sure they never touch this world or you or the kids."
"Ma Jeyk," she started saying, cooing for his attention. She could see the big boulders leaning against his shoulder, even if he did not.
Desiring to hug him, she embraced her mate, but felt stiffness in return as his arms meagerly wrapped around her torso.
"I feel like I'm failing here, Neytiri. I'm doing everything I can and it is not enough. Tarsem looks at me with this strange look in his eyes. Mo'at too. Some of your People look at me as a stranger."
She had enough of his pessimistic outlook on his life, choosing to embrace him more, she turned to his ear and said, "Jeyk, you have not failed us. You lead us, looked out for us. Tarsem loves you like a father. Your children love you now. Everyone loves you. I love you."
Father. The one who died fighting for Toruk Makto. Some giant dinosaur bird that he rode on to get the Omatikaya and the other clans to fight against the RDA. It all felt and sounded ridiculous but worse, painfully false.
He pushed her away, leaving her stunned by such a gesture.
"Why do you do this?" She said, standing to tower over him again. "Why do you keep doing this to yourself and to me?"
"Because—" He tried to get it out. His eyes seeking a way out of this conversation as peacefully as possible.
"Why, Jeyk?" She asked as Jake felt her gaze prodding for answers. "Jeyk!"
"Because I am not Tarsem's father!" He snapped back before standing up. "His father, real father, died thirteen years ago! I had his mother killed in the Hometree and then his father in the battle. No one else but me!"
The real revelation made her catatonic for words as the man that was her mate raged against himself.
"I had sons, daughters, fathers, and mothers killed in my name. Toruk Makto! TORUK MAKTO!" He switched from her tongue to his tongue.
"No! Not anymore! I'm just Jake. A human from Earth. Come to collect a paycheck and to tell your People to get the hell out of your home so we can blow it up and take what was under it! They fought for me and they're dead, Neytiri! They are ALL DEAD!"
Grabbing the rifle he had sitting on the table, he raised it. Fearing for her life, Neytiri retreated back to the tent as he hurled the weapon against the ground, breaking it in half and alerting Lo'ak who was standing nearby from the outside, to rush in and see what was happening. What he found was a broken mess and his father hunched over it.
Snarling, all Jake could see of the mess was himself, back on Earth, crippled and dying. The walls of depression surrounding him, keeping him imprisoned of his own doing. Two years ago, before Tommy died, he was in Venezuela. Trying to save families from the consuming fires of war. Then, shrapnel from an improvised explosive device tore into his spine, vaporizing a convoy carrying a family, and rendering him lame with only the lasting image of the burning convoy still there to this day. His just reward was to wheel between bars and getting into fights.
He was good at getting into fights and losing.
'You're a real hero.'
'You saved my ass back in Vez, Jake.'
'Too bad we couldn't do much for the people in that firebombing mission. What a bummer.'
Their words chased him into drink after drink, but the screams of those people never truly left him. Now, new screams filled the void. Screams from a falling tree with men, women, and children, all running for their lives. It was Venezuela all over again and he was not there to save them again.
With his vision slowly returning from the blurry fury, Jake regained his bearings before following up to say, "sorry" to Neytiri. His throat dry and weak.
Straightening himself up, Jake looked over and found Neytiri staring at him, her face etched with fear.
Holding his hands up, palms facing towards Neytiri, he gestured that everything was okay. Then as a minute or so passed, he allowed his hands to sink by his sides.
"I'm sorry." He said again.
"Dad?" The teenage boy, no older than thirteen, called out to Jake. He slipped around Neytiri's side, watching by the edge of his confusion as to what just happened here.
Jake tried to relax but he knew he was not fooling anyone, most certainly not Neytiri. Remembering to switch back to the language of the People, Jake kept his cool, even if his cool was broken like the rifle on the ground. The best Marines always maintained their cool under fire, no matter what the situation was.
"What happened?" He asked while Neytiri tried to shush her son.
"Sorry, son. Got angry and yanno... had to throw somethin'. It's not your mom. No. Just…just myself. I'm a skxawng like that." Jake said, scratching his head.
His tail became limp as the hero of the Omatikaya looked out across to Neytiri. Searching for any sympathy in her eyes. But he knew he wasn't going to get one tonight.
"I will be out soon. Let me clean up this mess." He added as he looked back down to the broken rifle.
Lo'ak started making his way over when Neytiri grabbed his shoulder, holding him back. He shrugged her hand off, desiring to help his father.
Gradually, she realized that Jake was no longer a threat and soon joined in with mild hesitation to her steps to help clean up.
Squatting, Jake picked up the frame, the magazine, and the spill of cartridges. Lo'ak's hand also reached down for a spring, a screw, and some plastic elements of the weapon. Neytiri picked up some shattered pieces that were flung by the edge of the tent and surrendered them to Jake.
"When are you going to teach me to use this?" Lo'ak asked of his father.
Jake was about to say something when he heard Neytiri hiss in repulsion.
"My son will never use such weapons!" She retaliated with the voice of a thousand stings. Feeling all of them, Jake nodded along with her.
"Probably not for a long time."
"Never!" She insisted.
When Neytiri became distracted by the call of Kiri asking for her mother, Jake had enough time to mouth carefully: Soon
Lo'ak grinned as he nodded in agreement. Placing the pieces back onto the table with careful ease, Lo'ak stood beside his father.
"Come, let's join the party before it becomes too late." Jake said to his son.
They started to walk out of the hut when Kiri noticed them. Her expression was one of hidden confusion. She neither smiled, but didn't appear sad, except for the look in her eyes that betrayed her core inner-thoughts.
Why? She thought. The words about not being a father to Tarsem had begun to worm their way into Kiri's heart.
Neytiri's words brought her back, and with it, a faux sense of not being bothered as she asked her mother about tomorrow's opportunity to bring Spider around.
Neytiri, as usual, tilted her head and presented an annoyed expression.
Again?
None the less, Neytiri relented and nodded to her daughter. "But only until the second sun rises."
"Absolutely!"
As the celebration continued, no one would see the end until everyone was far too exhausted, too full, and too sleepy to carry on another second it. But not before Jake and his children joined in. They led a small dance competition that practically confused everyone who were Na'vi except his kids who wanted to outdo one another. Before the rise of the third moon, his family turned in, all sleeping together on the hammock they shared, rocked by the gentle motion of the breeze.
Staring up to the night sky and through the canopy of tree branches, Jake counted the stars, wondering in silence what the future held for them. He imagined Neteyam and his future family. Lo'ak, defending his. Tuktirey, hunting wild game. But Kiri?
He turned his face in the hammock to find she was not there in her usual spot. Jake understood she had become a young woman in her own right, seeking out her own adventures and that soon, she would not need the likes of Jake, Neytiri, or her brothers to help her. She was going to have to make her own decisions about who she was.
That's a lot, Jake thought.
Regardless, Jake knew that Kiri was always going to love him… no matter what.