Author's Note: Another one. I'm done, at least for a few chapters. Promise. I'm going to get a few chapters deep before I continue my crusade to keep this fandom alive, lol.

Warnings: School shooting at the end of the chapter.

Tsyeyk's earliest memory is sitting on his father's lap, watching as his mother sooths his crying twin, Sylwanin, after she fell while she and Tsyeyk were playing and scrapped up her hands, knees, and chin. She was trying to be brave, trying not to be loud while in pain. She didn't want to disrupt anyone, even though she was hurt. She sniffled and sob softly, but otherwise, kept as quiet as possible despite how upset she was.

His three-year-old sister, Neytiri, sucks on her thumb, with her other little hand on their mother's shoulder, just staring at her crying sister as big globs of tears slide down her plump cheeks, trying to accept their mother's comfort without getting more upset. Their little sister keeps slow blinking big golden eyes, looking between her siblings and her parents. It's almost time for her nap. That might have been what their parents were about to do before they caught the tail end of Tsyeyk and Sylwanin running past them on the spiral and Sylwanin taking a misstep and falling onto the ground floor of Hometree. Thankfully it was only about a two-to-three-foot drop, but it was enough to hurt.

They're just lucky that Sylwanin didn't fall from further up. Their mother had warned them enough times about not running on the spiral.

"I'm sorry, Syl," Tsyeyk says softly, arms wrapped tightly around his father's neck. "I won't run anymore. Don't cry."

He feels his father hum softly in approval, giving his cheek a loving nuzzle. Sylwanin pulls back a bit from where she was crying into their mother's shoulder to look at him. Her long lashes are clumped together from her tears and her eyes are red. She pushes some of her braids back from her face and blinks at him a few times, nodding slowly with creases between her eyes.

"It's okay," she says, voice soft and wobbly. "I'm sorry I fell."

"Sowwy," Neytiri echoes, grinning and giggling when their parents smiled and huffed at her. Sylwanin lets out a soft, watery laugh, blinking away tears and Tsyeyk giggles, pressing his cheek against his father's.

"No more tears, tiyawn," their mother says, pressing a sweet kiss to her daughter's cheek. Sylwanin sniffles again but nods, snuggling into her mother's arms.

"Yes, mommy," the five-year-old says.

"And no more playing on the spiral. It is for walking, not playing," their mother says, her voice soft, but stern. This time she looks between her eldest two children.

"Yes, mommy," both say together.

Then, as punishment, it was time for all three of them to go down for a nap. Despite the older two complaining as their parents carried them back to their hut, the three siblings all curled up together and slept peacefully right away. Tsyeyk felt so bad for the part he played in his sister getting hurt that he made sure to curl around her tightly and rub her back until she fell asleep. He felt bad for not being able to stop her from falling so he wanted to keep her safe.

The twins were both seven years old when they met mommy's friend, Grace, for the first time. She looked like them but was different. She had more fingers and little tuffs of hair above her eyes, and she was quite tall for a Na'vi female. Mom called her friend a Dreamwalker. Said that Grace's people came from the sky and that the body that they were seeing before them wasn't real. It took Tsyeyk a long time to understand what she had meant. That Grace had two bodies. The one that looked like them, and one that didn't. One that she was born into.

She was mommy's friend, and Tsyeyk loved her right away. She asked so many funny questions. She seemed so fascinated by Sylwanin and Tsyeyk. Mom had told Grace about them being the first twins born to the Omatikaya since the last recorded songs about the last Great Sorrow, where their grandfather's grandfather united the clan as the latest Toruk Makto. It had been a set of twin brothers, the eldest of which survived an attack that had took the life of the younger and went on to tame the mighty Toruk and bring peace to the warring clans.

So, when Mo'at gave birth to twins, the clan had been excited, as the last set had brought peace to the clans for many years that followed. No one really talked about the discord and sadness that had preceded it. No, the birth of the twins was a joyous occasion. Even Grace seemed to think so. It was hard enough for Na'vi females to have multiple births. Most usually only have one or two, and for her first pregnancy, the clan Tsahik of the Omatikaya managed to carry two healthy babies to term with more ease than expected.

Twins were more common for Sky People, Tsyeyk came to learn. Not an every pregnancy sort of thing, but certainly more common that in was for the Na'vi - at least for the Omatikaya. But everything about the Omatikaya - about Eywa-eveng, really - fascinated Grace. Even something as simple as Tsyeyk and his twin sister, Sylwanin. People had such high hopes for them, thinking them something great when they were only just kids. Kids living in a time of relative peace.

The clans weren't at war. There was no need for the Mighty Toruk. And certainly there is no need for a Toruk Makto. But still, people watched them closely with bright eyes filled with wonderment and fascination.

Dad wasn't a huge fan of her, well, maybe not Grace specifically, but outsiders in general. It was one thing if she came from a different clan and he was able to suss out her motives, but she came from a twinkling star in the sky! Dad didn't know what to think about her, and whatever it was that she could want from them, but mom liked having Grace around.

Tsyeyk really liked having Grace around. He liked playing with her. He liked listening to her talk. When she came, she was already really good at their language am his mom had been teaching her, and while Tsyeyk got plenty of giggles at her strange pronunciations, she got so good so quickly. She was so kind, so eager to learn. Tsyeyk liked to listen to her tell him stories. He would curl up in a pile with his sisters and other kids and listen to Grace tell them stories about all sorts of wonderful, beautiful things that came from Earth, most started with once upon a time.

Grace explained that they were just stories, not actual things that happened, but they all seemed too wonderful, too amazing to be anything other than truth. Tsyeyk learned, all his life, that even stories have some semblance of realism to them. Even Grace agreed with that. While the stories she knew of were just that - stories - perhaps when they were first told, it was true, and just over time it became so exaggerated that it's known only as fiction now. Tsyeyk's not sure he completely understands that, but he understands enough to imagine where the bits of truth could become... exaggerated.

But the Sky People homeworld of Earth was so strange to him. And all of Grace's stories about it just seem so far beyond belief. Even the strange memories of Earth that she has captured on the hard objects that she carries with her is beyond belief. Tsyeyk can't believe that he's sitting in his mother's den, staring at a memory - image, Grace called it - of a place that it took six years for Grace to travel from to get to Eywa-eveng. Yet it was right there, in his hand!

He couldn't fully wrap his mind around it, but it didn't make it any less wonderful to behold.

Grace had a friend that Tsyeyk and his siblings could only meet outside of Hometree. One stranger there was hard enough to get their father to bend on, more was impossible. That's like trying to convince a nantang to not hunt for its food. It's just not something that's going to happen, so respectfully, when they go to meet Grace's friend - a really "spicy" woman named Miss Arty - they have to leave Hometree. Grace says she's "spicy", whereas mom called her "no nonsense". Tsyeyk's not really sure what they meant by that, but he always liked her.

Miss Arty talked to Tsyeyk a lot about the son she left behind on Earth with his father. That he was older than Tsyeyk but that he reminded her so much of the son that she left behind. Tsyeyk liked to sit by her feet and listen as she told him stories about her son, fascinated by how different their lived were from one another. Not too crazy, he supposed, when the literal sky separated them, but still, to imagine a boy just like him living a completely different life on a world he could only see through images captured by their strange devices.

It was interesting to help teach Grace and Miss Arty and those that were with them their way, their culture, but it was even more fun to learn from them. Their ways were so very strange, but he loved it. His sisters and mom spent a lot of time out there, helping the Dreamwalkers explore the joys and beauty of their home. Tsyeyk loved those days with his sisters, his mom, and his mom's friends.

So, when a few years later, when his mom sat him and his sisters down to see if they would take part in an outreach "program" between the Omatikaya and the RDA which is where more Omatikaya children can learn about Earth and about the Sky People, Tsyeyk and his sisters were more than excited to agree. They would get to learn the language, how to read, speak and write it, and all about their own culture. More about what their Great Mother was like and how it was different from their own.

Their father, though, always had his reservations. He warned against getting too close. Of trusting the Sky People, but his children were too open minded, like his mate. And while Tsyeyk loved his time with the Grace, Miss Arty, his mom and sisters, he was to be Olo'eyktan one day. So, once he was old enough to start learning his future duties, while his twin was promised as his future Tsahik and could remain with his mom, he spent more and more time with his dad.

Grace had been fascinated to hear that they were breaking tradition - Tsyeyk and Sylwanin were siblings, not a bonded pair - that would rule over the Omatikaya. As far as their collective memory goes, that has never been the case. It had always been a mated pair, but Mo'at and Eytukan, looking down at their newborn twins, wrapped tightly around one another, just knew. Knew that their children would rule the Omatikaya together.

They were two halves of the same whole. Both equally blessed by Eywa. They were so deeply intertwined with one another that even their glowing freckles melded smoothly together across their faces and bodies. Their pattern unique and broken up in parts where the other siblings would be filled in. Like one soul born into two bodies. Like Eywa had meant for them to be one being but changed her mind at the last moment and made them two.

Tsyeyk still got to spend time at the school, their dad is such a pushover when it comes to their mom, but his time became more evenly split between both sides of his duties as the future Olo'eyktan, in learning how to care and look after the clan, and how to better understand their new neighbors in the RDA. Everything was going well, everyone was happy - until they weren't.

Until the day came when everything changed.

Tsyeyk steps into the classroom, spotting his fourteen-year-old sister Neytiri first, knees on her chair as she spoke with the person behind her, tail twirling excitedly. Tsyeyk smiles, taking a step into the room, noting the eyes of the class turning to him. He hadn't left with the other Omatikaya children this morning, still seeing to his duties with his dad so he's sure that no one expected him to make it here today. Honestly, Tsyeyk had been surprised that his dad had let him come, as usually when it's his day to be with his dad, they spend the whole day together.

Not that Tsyeyk has ever minded, his dad and he were quite close. With a mom and two sisters, they were outnumbered and had to stick together, his dad would often joke, grinning playfully at him to get him to smile. But today, everything was quiet, they got through everything that his dad had wanted them to and so he, albeit begrudgingly, let him come to school. He thought he was going to be late, but it looks like he made it in time.

Tsyeyk's eyes scan the room, noting that he didn't see Sylwanin, but that wasn't uncommon. She spent a lot of time helping the teachers with the younger kids or getting things ready for the day. He makes his way over to his seat, ignoring the eyes of his fellow Omatikaya, sitting next to Neytiri, noting that Arvok's seat was empty. He must be out on a hunt with his dad or something.

"Hey," Neytiri says, turning toward him but still perched on her knees.

He settles onto the balls of his feet, like most of the kids do. Tsyeyk has no idea how Grace and Miss Arty could sit on their bottoms for so long, it hurts the bottom of his tail when he sits like that for more than a few minutes at a time. Somehow up on the balls of his feet is a lot more comfortable.

"Hey," Tsyeyk says, glancing over at her. "Where is Sylwanin?"

Neytiri tilts her head, frowning a bit. "Did she not go with you and dad this morning?"

Tsyeyk shakes his head. "No, did she say that she did?" Why would she say something that wasn't true?

Neytiri presses her lips together. "No, she didn't. Mom and I just guessed so, seeing as she was gone bright and early, just like the two of you." She shrugs her shoulders. "I guess she went out with friends, instead."

"And missed school?" Tsyeyk asks, frowning. He looks out the window, wondering where she could have gone. Maybe he should go out and look around for her - just to make sure that she was okay. It's not like Sylwanin not to tell him if she was up to something. They were usually partners in crime - just kidding. His sister was the perfect little angel, she never did anything wrong. Maybe it was supposed to be a secret surprise or something. That's all he can think of as to why she would vanish without a word to at least him. There were no secrets between them.

He'll just ask her when she gets back.

"She hasn't missed school yet," Neytiri points out.

Tsyeyk concedes her point. He lets out a little sigh. "Very true," he admits, tail twirling a bit as he glances over at Arvok's empty seat. "Is he out with his dad?"

"Yeah, I saw him heading out with his dad, uncle and cousins to go hunting this morning," Neytiri says, turning to face the front, and leaning her back against the seat normally while up on her own tip toes. "I bet he is looking for a... very special gift for a special someone..." she says giving him a long, lash fluttering look.

Tsyeyk rolls his eyes. "Now why would you say that? He's my best friend."

"Who has been in love with you forever," Neytiri whispers, leaning closer. "He's just not been able to find his bravery, just yet. It's obvious that he's trying to get as many escapades as he can so that when he asks dad for permission to court you, he'll say yes."

Tsyeyk rolls his eyes. "You're living in a fantasy. He is my best friend, Neytiri. Nothing more."

"And you're delusional, brother," Neytiri says. She taps her fingers against the desk, chewing on her lower lip. "So, I guess you get to be the only person on all of Eywa'eveng that gets to be surprised when the moment comes."

Not wanting to have this argument again, Tsyeyk just rolls his eyes again and glances over at the front of the classroom as Grace calls the class to start. Miss Arty steps in a few minutes later, prepping something in the back of the room before walking around, helping keep the younger kids focused.

Tsyeyk glances at Sylwanin's empty seat, wondering where she is, but deciding that if she doesn't show up by the time they get released for a lunch break than he'll go looking for her himself. He knows that she can handle herself, but he's the older brother, he should be the one to look out for her. He should at least know that she's safe.

His eyes glaze over a bit, listening to Grace's voice but not what she's saying when pounding outside in the hall leading to their classroom. Tsyeyk's eyes draw to the door in time to see one of the other young hunters, a friend of Sylwanin's. His face is painted for war and his eyes are wide in horror.

He steps aside and another, this time a girl, and then finally, Sylwanin. Like the boy, the two girls are painted for battle. Both of the two teens look at Grace, while Sylwanin looks at Tsyeyk, tears streaking down her face. Rage swells in his chest and he launches to his feet, crossing the small room to her side as the two teen hunters start screaming for Grace, so loud Tsyeyk's ears are ringing but he reaches out to Sylwanin when he gets to her side, and she reaches for him.

"I'm sorry!" She screams. "I'm so sorry! I didn't... I didn't realize!"

"What?" Tsyeyk asks, barely able to hear her over all the noise around them.

"What's going on?" Grace asks, moving closer from the front of the room. Miss Arty twists sharply before corralling the kids away from Tsyeyk and his sister. Away from the door.

"Save us!" The boy says at the same time the girl sobs, "Please, help us, Grace!"

She makes her way closer as Tsyeyk grabs onto Sylwanin's arms, pulling her closer to him to press his forehead against hers, like they always do to make her feel better whenever she's upset. He feels a bit of the tension in her grip lessen, but her eyes are still wide in fear.

"What's wrong?" Tsyeyk asks. trying to keep his voice even despite the fear building up in his chest. "Talk to me."

Tears slide down her cheek as she shakily whispers, "I love you, Ts-"

Crack!

Tsyeyk's ears ring, and then there is this breath punching pain in his head, like his brain is exploding. Sylwanin stiffens for a moment, then she falls away, blood spraying in the air around them. Across his face and chest as she goes. His grip on Sylwanin's hands doesn't loosen as agony streaks through him. It's like slow motion as her body twists in the fall and as that happens, her chest explodes right through the center, dragging him down with her. Cracks and pops and screams fill his ears as his entire body is laced with agony as he lands beside her, refusing to let go of his sister, despite it feeling like he was burning alive inside his own skin.

It hurts. He... it hurts.

Heavy steps thud closer, more cracks, more screaming. And Sylwanin's eyes never leave him, yet the light in it is gone. She stares, unseeing through him. Laying on her back, one hand still holding his, while blood pools around her, from her chest, and a hole in her temple. Tsyeyk screams in fear and pain, his body thrumming with it - and horror. Absolute horror as he tries to understand what he's seeing.

Chaos ensues around them. Everyone is screaming, crying, scrambling about but it all sounds hollow, like an echo from far away. More thuds close by, but he more feels it through the wooden boards then hears it. Grace is screaming, she never does that. So strange. Somewhere in the back of his head, he can hear Neytiri crying, sobbing in fear, and he prays that she runs. That she gets away so that someone can get their mom and bring her here quickly. He needs her help. Blood is spitting and bubbling up from Sylwanin's chest and temple and it doesn't make sense.

He can't breathe. It's like there is a fire in his skull, and palulukan clawing out of his chest. He can't... he can't focus. It hurts.

Her lips are still parted, his name at the edge of her tongue, yet unspoken, but they are paling in color. Her eyes, still vacant and empty. What is happening? It doesn't make any sense. Why are they laying on the ground? Why won't Sylwanin say his name? Where is Neytiri? Why won't she run to get mom? What about Grace? Why isn't Grace here to explain what's happening? What is that sound? What's going on? Why won't Sylwanin speak? Why won't she really look at him? Why won't she breathe?

Tsyeyk uses the last of his strength to pull himself over Sylwanin's body, praying to protect her. Praying that Neytiri is able to run away, seeing as he can't get to her. She's by the window, she has to get away. They need mom to come here to help Sylwanin. Something is wrong with her, but he doesn't understand what. She was fine a second ago but now she's just... staring at him. She had started to say his name but stopped.

Why did she stop?

It hurts. It all hurts.

Sylwanin... Neytiri... he has to protect them. He has to make sure... he has to keep them...

His eyes slide shut. The burning and the raging palulukan drag him into darkness.

He feels shaking hands touch his hand, still holding onto Sylwanin's. It's crusty, sticky. Something is wrong.

He can hear sobbing, people moving about them. The sounds of things being moved around, wails of agony. But it all feels so far away, like it's nowhere near Tsyeyk. Like he was alone in this infinite darkness, despite a small part of him being aware of his body somehow being in the middle of... something. It... he doesn't... something isn't right. He feels... heavy... wrong. A thumping in his entire body that sends a fire through his veins. It's wrong. Sylwanin is there, he knows it, and yet it feels like she's not.

The hand that wraps around his is familiar, though. Somehow able to pierce through the fog of his mind.

"My children..." his dad whispers mournfully. The hand moves and it oh so gently places the hand onto the side of his head. And it's hot. Too hot. And it makes Tsyeyk realize that he's chilled. Not an ounce of warmth in him at all. Something is wrong. Something is very wrong.

His dad's thumb runs across his cheekbone, fingers carding through his hair a bit. His fingers are shaking. He leans closer, Tsyeyk can feel the heat of his body nearly burning him alive.

"Why, Great Mother..." dad sobs and it carves a hole in Tsyeyk's chest. "Please...why?"

"Chief," a voice nearby says softly. "The... the Tsahik is here..."

A second later, mom wails in pain. A thud so close that he can feel it vibrate around him. He feels Sylwanin tug at his hand. He tries to open his eyes, to hold tighter to her hand, but he can't move. Everything hurts. He can't breathe. He can't even move.

"My babies! No! No, please!"

She pets both of them. Their arms and faces. She can hear them both crying. Both of them touch them, kiss them, try to hold them yet they don't seem to be able to just, lift them, instead, they just... drape over them. Petting their hair and kissing their cheeks. He wanted nothing more than to hold them, hug them, kiss them back and just... not be here. Not feeling this.

He just wants to go home. Why won't they bring them home?

It's mostly dad, he feels. He can smell him, familiar, safe. Many of his memories as a kid is of being held in his dad's arms. Looking out over the forest, listening to the sounds it sings. Or learning to use the bow and arrow. Or climbing. Hiking. Just wandering down familiar paths while pressed into his dad's side. Even late at night, laying in his arms, staring into his eyes and softly asking every question that popped into his little head, or stories that he only recalls in fragments. But he's always been there. Safe, present, comforting.

His dad. He loved every moment that they got to spend with one another. He was so happy that his dad was able to come, being with him. He was so scared, so confused before. Everything will be okay now that his dad is there. That both of his parents are there. Now that mom can look after Sylwanin, they can go home, and everything will be alright again.

Mom's thin hand runs down his back, running down the length of his spine and then back up, pressing a hard kiss to his temple before her body tenses up. A choked sob leaving her before she stops. Mom's hand runs from his back all the way to the front of his chest to it's very center. There is a pull, like something sticky is there, but it stops for a moment, then another.

Then mom turns him onto his back so quickly it's like his head is spinning despite his eyes being closed. She places one hand over his lips and the other at the center of his chest, pressing harder. Not enough to hurt, but enough to make it harder still to breathe. Wait, he is breathing, it's just incredibly shallow.

"Oh... Oh! Eytukan! He's alive!"