The blue skies were as cool as the asphalt was burning, and the airmen going about their business were regularly dousing themselves with water bottles. Strutting down the tarmac, the glint of the sun reflecting off his black shades, came the confident leader of the recombinants. His target was the Wasp gunship, awaiting to deliver him to his destination.

"Let's get this over with…" he grumbled after sighting the pilot standing patiently outside.

"Hey, La'ang!"

Quaritch turned around, nudging his shades in pleasant surprise upon seeing Spider riding in a buggy with his guardian, Harvey Thurston. The young man jumped out and bounded over to him.

"Heya, Champ. What are you doing out here?"

"Thurston's showing me around." He pointed a thumb in the man's direction who was watching the two wearily. "What about you?"

"I have to go do some mandatory banshee wrangling."

"I thought you already had an ikran?"

"I did."

Spider raised an eyebrow. "'Did'?"

"It was short-lived."

"It ran away from you, didn't it?"

The recom replied with stale eyebrows and pursed lips as he tolerated the following snorts and snickers.

"That's so lame. So why can't you get your old one back?"

"What are you talking about?"

The tan, bare shoulders rolled cooly. "They return to the spot where you last slept, Stupid."

He bent down to eye level and fully stripped his shades. "And you can ride them again?"

"How did you live this long? Oh, wait—you didn't."

Quaritch hoisted him from the straps of his tank top. "You won't either if you keep that up. Hey, Thurston!" Quaritch called out, Spider still dangling from his pinched fingers. "I need to recruit Miles, here, for an important mission."

Harvey walked up with some hesitancy. "What for?"

Quaritch set the boy down. "I need his assistance for an expedition to the Hallelujah Mountains. Is that alright with you, corpsman?"

When Spider heard that, his eyes brightened with joy.

"Is his presence necessary, sir?"

"I'd say it's vital."

Thurston's eyes ran between his charge and the imposing recombinant standing alongside him. "Just don't let him run off."

"Don't worry," he laughed and shook Spider's shoulder. "I'll keep him leashed."

"Piss off," the youth retorted.

"Teach 'im some manners too," Quaritch finished with a smile.

A brace of Wasps buzzed over the valley of Sosul Syanan. Spider gripped the harness and leaned out as far as he could to admire the view. He was at last free of the rotten city and, once again, able to inhale the filtered scent of his beloved homeland. Quaritch observed the elation on his face and offered to hold his arm so he could lean out farther. With more of his body out than in, Spider issued a loud and enthusiastic Na'vi whoop as they sailed over the sea of trees. When he was done watching the world from the port side, he darted over to starboard and admired the view from there. From his new angle, he saw an ikran rider coming up and recognized him as Wainfleet.

"Yo, Spider-monkey!" Lyle called back. "What's he doing out here, sir?"

"He's gonna help me get my banshee back. He's our guide."

"Just don't let him be the translator!"

Confused, Quaritch cast Spider a look, who tittered sheepishly.

The Wasp gunships landed on a floating mountain fifty metres in diameter, and Spider ran through the grass to stand at the ledge. The view was exquisite; flocks of ikrans speckled the horizon, flying over swells of misty waves before disappearing behind them. The son of man set foot upon rock, straightened out his back and puffed his chest in pride, stopping short of pounding it, which Quaritch thought he looked ready to do.

Lyle flew by and banked around the mountain past the grotto where they first camped and spotted a dark ikran slumbering in the shadows. He returned to the mountaintop to inform his commander. "I saw her, sir. She's there."

"Well, how 'bout that? The old bird's been waiting for me."

"Want me to fly you down?"

"Your ikran a male?" Spider asked the bald recombinant.

"Yeah, why?"

"And your ikran's female?" he then asked Quaritch.

"There's no doubt of that."

"Don't bring those two near each other, or she'll attack. It's been too many days since she's been with her rider. La'ang needs to go down and see her first."

"La'ang?" Lyle repeated. "You know what that means?" he asked his colonel.

The recombinant nodded dully. "Pile of rancid meat. Yeah, I know. You like it?"

Spider smirked at Lyle, who couldn't believe the human could get away with such insubordination. "It's a pretty steep climb, sir. Not sure you'd want to do that."

"Yeah, old man, you might fall."

"I can do it. And you're coming with me. You once boasted that you climbed a mountain face in the rain. Well, lead the way, Pathfinder."

The smaller Miles wasn't going to waste an opportunity to show off. He strutted to a flat spot, away from the cliff, confusing the recombinants, where he then began some very intense stretches.

"What's all that fer?"

"I need to ease my joints first," he said while balancing on his toes and fingers. "You should too."

Quaritch's tone soured. "Not this again…"

"Hey, do you want to fall?" Spider taunted, his legs all the way over his head.

The colonel cast up his eyes before turning to his corporal. "Lyle? Turn around."

"Aww man…"

With Wainfleet's view appropriately faced away, Quaritch swung out his arms and plopped himself next to Spider, then, to the boy's curiosity, contorted himself into the Garudasana, or Eagle pose, by balancing on one foot with a bent leg wrapped around the other.

"What's that?"

"Yoga. And if you say anything, I'm twisting you into a pretzel."

It didn't matter that Spider didn't know what a "pretzel" was; his teeth still glinted as he held back a laugh.

When the stretches were completed, Spider, once more, rolled his shoulders, neck, and arms before proceeding to the edge to scan for a good starting point. Discerning the best nooks, the Pandoran took off his shoes and began the descent. The pair of Marines peered over the edge, watching the human braving the climb over one thousand feet above ground. The colonel paid close attention to Spider's path and took mental notes. Things seemed to have reached an impasse when Spider encountered a smooth section of wall, but he took the first nook he had access to and pulled at it like he was trying to rip it open, applying the counterforce pressure he needed to give himself enough stability to swing himself to the next notch.

"S***, he's good," Lyle breathed.

"Yeah… Alright, my turn." Quaritch took off his boots and tossed them aside. He then patted Lyle's shoulder before proceeding to climb down. "Get on your banshee, Corporal, and play spotter in case he falls."

"You mean, in case you fall," Spider teased, standing flat against the rockface, balancing on his toes with the bottom of his visor pushed up, gripping a protrusion in the rock.

"You're not the only one who knows how to climb," the recom grunted.

"Floating mountains are different."

"Oh, really? This seems easy enough." As the recombinant felt for the next nook, it crumbled beneath his toes, causing him to pivot sharply. "Whoa!"

"Careful!" Spider rebuked. "You can't just move blindly. You have to see with your hands—feel for the slightest bumps and the tiniest indents." He began massaging the rock, and Quaritch focused hard on the small fingers gliding over stone. "Account for any change, no matter how small."

"Uh-huh, okay…"

"Don't forget to use your tail too. That helps right your position. I have to make do without one."

"You've been doing pretty good without it," Quaritch complimented, gripping a liana.

"Had to. Pandora doesn't slow down for a disability. You have to overcome it or—ngh—die trying!" Spider winced as he shuffled his way past an abrasive ledge.

Quaritch shimmied his head in delight. "You go by Pandora rules."

"That's what Jake always says."

His smile dropped as he shot back, "Who do yah think taught him that!"

Spider climbed his way down further, fast nearing the grotto, but a huge crack in the rock prevented his path. "Damn!"

"What's the matter?"

"There's a split in the rock. It's too wide for me to reach across."

The recombinant soon made his way over. "I can make that. Climb onto my back." Spider was reluctant to do so but saw no other option. He gripped Quaritch's tactical vest, then secured his small arms around the great neck. "Hold on tight," he warned. Performing the same move he witnessed, the Marine wedged his palms into a crack and moved his hips in a pendular motion, getting ready to launch himself for a liana on the other side. With a heave and a ho, he jumped through the air, snatching his target, only for it to disanchor. Quaritch was thrust into the rockface by the jolt, and his passenger was thrown. In a split second, Quaritch snatched Spider's falling ankle and swung him inside the grotto. The boy rolled across the gritty surface as the colonel jumped down and ran for him in a panic.

"Are you alright?" Quaritch wheezed over him.

Spider's dizzy eyes eventually refocused. "Yeah… Can we do that again?"

"No!"

Meanwhile, far below where Lyle was circling—serving as the safety net—he ploughed his bald head in relief.

Completely unharmed, the man of the jungle nonchalantly came to his feet, where he then heard the telltale rumbles of growling emitting just beyond the blackness. The brave knights faced off with the dragon nestled in the sanctuary of her dark cave. Irritable from having her beauty rest disturbed, she emerged, hissing in anger and ready to slay anyone for trespassing.

"Don't go having a hissy fit, Gloria. It's just me."

"Gloria?"

"It's short for Glorious," he divulged with pride, then stepped towards her, but the irate banshee would not have it. With her massive wings, she pounded the walls of her sanctuary, forcing her rider to rethink his approach. "I don't know, kid. She doesn't look like she wants to go out with me."

"Try and entice her with something."

"Like what? A bouquet of roses?"

"You got any meat on you?"

He felt his person, hoping maybe to use some rations, then remembered something he had in his back pocket.

"You still have that?" Spider exclaimed.

"I didn't know what to do with it."

"That's disgusting, man!"

"You're the one that had it in the first place. Now, shut up! I have to feed my bird. Hey, Gloria,"—he finger-whistled—"look what I got!"

Her pupils dilated on the flailed bone.

"You want a piece of me? You want a piece of me? Well, here ya go!" He tossed his retired arm in the air, and it disappeared between her teeth. Quaritch beamed, but it was short-lived when his ears were suddenly graced by a disgusting orchestra of gastrointestinal sounds. Gloria spasmed, threw her head back, and vomited out Quaritch. The recombinant glared, while Spider was bent over in a fit of laughter.

Glorious returned to swaying back and forth, threatening to charge and shrieking like an offended shrew.

"I've had enough of this…" Quaritch snarled and stepped forward to admonish the deserter. "Dagnabbit, you stupid turkey, stop being a drama queen!"

"You don't have to yell at her."

"She barfed up my arm! I've every right to yell."

Gloria hissed.

"We had an understanding, Buttercup. You're coming back to the ranch with Papa, got it?"

She chuffed.

"You want to rumble again?"

She roared.

"Gloria!"

The ikran levelled her neck, and all her teeth were targeted right for Quaritch—she was not satisfied with just his arm. He dove out of the way, and he and Spider scrambled for a boulder nearby. Flapping and screaming, Gloria continued making a show about the grotto. The demoted rider ducked behind his doghouse of a shelter, darting his eyes between the beast and the boy. "This isn't working."

"No s***."

He brushed the boy's head. "You watch your mouth."

Spider would've retorted, but the banshee demanded every bit of their attention. Peering over the boulder, he was confused by her inexplicable signs of aggression. "I don't understand. She really wants to kill you. How were you separated?"

"She threw me."

"Why?

"Well, Sully's machine gun had something to do with it!"

The jaw dropped. "Well, no wonder she's mad at you!"

"Me?! He's the one who shot her!"

They both listened as Gloria hissed loudly.

"It's a surprise she came back at all…" Spider mumbled.

"So, what do I do?"

"You gotta apologize to her."

"Apologize?" he sneered. "It's an animal!"

"So?"

Quaritch inhaled his impatience. "Are you trying to tell me that on top of hugging trees, the Na'vi also talk to critters so they're all nice and peachy and don't get their feelings hurt?"

"No!"

"Good."

"Only Kiri does that."

He pinched his brow, wondering how he was going to fix Spider once they returned.

"I've seen her charm animals all the time. We even rode a palulukan once."

"A wha—? How di—?" He stopped to blink. "What did you do, stick a coin in it?"

"She just has a way with them. She can't talk, so she does it through body language. They understand that."

"And how will that work with me and Miss Hissy over there?"

"Bow your head. Don't look her in the eye. And tap the bottom of her jaw—that's a show of submission."

"For the love of—! I'm not submitting to no damn bats*** crazy banshee! I'll have her tranquillized and airlifted back to Bridgehead." He was reaching for his throat comm when Spider slapped down his arm.

"You can't do that!"

"Why not? I own her."

"You don't own her. You're just the rider."

"Oh, she's a feminist? Well, that explains everything…"

"Why are you being such an ass about this?"

"Look, Champ! I did my Iknimaya. I made the damn 'heylu—I earned that banshee fair and square. She's the one being a b**** about this."

"The tsaheylu is only the start of the connection. The real bond is in the relationship you build with her over time. You broke her trust. But she still came back and waited days for you—just to give you a second chance. You have no idea how lucky you are to even have an ikran…"

The way his voice trailed off with the hint of bitter jealousy was all too recognizable for Quaritch. He shook his head, wondering how his life had come to this and leapt over the boulder.

When Gloria saw her rider, she rekindled her aggression, but instead of confrontation, Quaritch lowered his head. Seeing him purposely avoid eye contact prompted Gloria to inch closer with a steady breath. Spider watched nervously as the daring man slowly brought up his trembling hand. Having to guess where her snout was, he tapped the underside of her jaw; she replied by opening her mouth to then firmly bite his shoulder. The shallow nip was strong enough to prick his skin, and he let out a cry. Gloria applied more pressure, and the man winced, forcing himself to endure the excruciating pain. His facial muscles stretched, tightened, and secreted beads of sweat. In the agony, he absorbed Gloria's eyes, staring directly into his soul. He glided his quivering fingers up to clutch her brow, while his own raised in regret.

The matriarch held her position for a few seconds longer and then released.

Quaritch crippled over in pain, gripping his shoulder. When he had the energy to look back up, he said to her face, "An eye for an eye."

The spectator came running out from behind his shelter. Avoiding eye contact with Glorious, he side-stepped over to Quaritch. "Are you okay?"

"Yep. Just a hickey."

"I've never seen an ikran do that before."

"Guess that makes me special. C'mon,"—he came to a stand with a grunt—"we're flying out of here." Quaritch pressed his throat mic. "This is Blue Daddy. I've reconnected with my banshee, and I'm heading out on my new ride. Out."

The pilot at the top of the mountain activated his craft, and he and his escort headed back for Bridgehead, with Spider feeling a sense of relief as he watched the metal dragons shrink on the horizon. Turning away from the ledge, he headed back to Quaritch. He was about to climb onto the recombinant's back when he was seized and plopped up front.

"Nope. You drive. Just tell me where to go."

"Y-you want me to ride Gloria?"

"Sure."

With trepidation, hands shaking with excitement, the human touched the leathery antenna of the ikran. The sensation triggered him to inhale like all Na'vi who are about to fly for the first time. It's that precious second when the heart appreciates they are no longer prisoners to terra firma. His grip tightened around the keys to heaven.

"Just give the word, kid."

"F-Fly?"

All at once, Gloria ran over the ledge, and the pair dove down for the jungle. Spider's heart was thumping from the exhilaration; his adrenaline overwhelmed him, and he couldn't think of what to say next when Quaritch had to cry out, "Say something!"

"Bank up!"

Gloria immediately flew upward and continued to climb. The euphoric experience had Spider hooting with joy as he pierced the air. "Faster!" He laughed, and Gloria increased her speed.

Wainfleet caught them flying out and headed over to join them. "See you're letting the kid drive."

"He's eighteen."

Spider shouted more commands and the chauffeur obeyed, letting him go wherever he wished. For all the times he rode on wild animals, leapt down waterfalls or raced the wind itself, the ground-bound descendant of Earth never felt more alive.

As for Quaritch, listening to Spider's happiness triggered his mind to replay his last encounter with Sully—when a barrel was aimed between his eyes—and realized he was beginning to understand exactly what Jake was feeling in that moment.

It was minutes after sunset; the stars were faint, and Polyphemus, in his greatness, would not make star-gazing easy for the pair sitting atop the cliff. Lyle was keeping his ikran occupied with stowed treats as Spider lectured Quaritch on how to view constellations through Na'vi eyes.

"And over there—that's Rai'."

"Rye-ee," Quaritch verbally attempted.

"You have to roll your 'R.'"

"Why-ee."

Again, Spider stared at him.

"My accent still sucks?"

"What do you think?"

Quaritch studied the sparking firmament from his reclined position. "So what does rye-ee mean?"

"Rai' is a person—an Omatikaya olo'eyktan from ancient history. He and his son, Sepa, were out hunting one day when a palulukan surprised them. It was circling Sepa, so Rai' distracted it so his son could get away. Do you see it?" Quaritch was deeply engrossed as he followed Spider's tracing finger. "It's a Na'vi waving its arms."

"What happened next?" Wainfleet asked, sitting down to join them.

"He got eaten, Lyle."

"Oh."

"It's an important legend for the Na'vi as it tells what a father should be. I remember Jake telling the story to me and Neteyam."

"Oh, hey, we—" Darting eyes silenced the corporal.

"Anyway," the young man said upon getting up. "I have to take a piss. Am I allowed to do that?"

"Take your time." Quaritch signed off with a wave.

Wainfleet watched as the boy descended down the mountain to a ledge more private. "You're going to just let him go?"

"We're a thousand feet above ground level. He's not going anywhere. Besides,"—he waggled his queue—"I've got the keys to the ikran."

"You're really taking to him."

"He's alright."

Lyle chewed on his words. "That's not what I mean."

"Hmm?"

"You're getting attached, sir."

Quaritch shot up from his recline. "I needed his help today! Letting him ride was my way of thanking him. That's it."

The brow pulled taut. "Since when do you care about Na'vi lore?"

Quaritch was sent into a fidget and scowled. "He wanted to talk about it…"

"What about Sully?"

"What about him?"

"Spider's close with him. How's he going to feel when—" He stopped from saying the direct phrase. "We have to carry out orders?"

The man went very quiet, and his eyes travelled to the dimming horizon. "Nothing will reach his ears."

"And if it does?"

"Then he goes back to hating me," he intoned.

"And you're fine with that?"

"I don't have a choice, do I?" Quaritch snapped, but after a defeated sigh, as he refocused on Rai', he mumbled, "Why did he have to be the one to take him in? Of all the abandoned kids to find, why did it have to be—?" He stopped. "Why hers?"

Swishing his fork around inside his ration packet, the friend contemplated asking, then dared to. "Why didn't you marry her when you found out she was going to have a kid?"

"Because it wasn't mine," he answered flatly—so emotionlessly—for he suffered playing out the feelings in his mind so often that on delivery, the actor was spent of passion. Miles did something he never did; he leaned forward on his crossed legs and folded his hands together, then bent his head, exposing his neck. "It's as stupid as that. So I not only screwed up, but the privilege went to that damn blue bastard. I may not be the father, Lyle, but at least let me have a few days with him before we go back to reality. He's actually been taking to me."

"You're letting me have Säro. Guess it's fair."

"Damn right, it's fair! Glad you remembered that."

Wainfleet rubbed his nape. "I, uh… Actually, about that…"

"What is it…"

The man's face bunched before he admitted, "I went and did it this time, sir."

Quaritch shut his eyes in preparation for the damage, then upon lifting them, beheld a beaming face.

"I'm going to be a dad, sir! I only found out yesterday. Sir, I swear, I was going to tell you, but I wasn't sure how'd you take—"

"You f***ing showoff!" Lyle's arm was struck by the back of his colonel's hand. "You just had to go and outdo me, didn't you!"

"You're not mad?"

"Of course I'm mad, you scene-stealing bastard!" With the widest grin and shake of his head, his voice creaked, "I just don't believe it… Well, how 'bout that? Guess I don't need to ask if you're excited. How do you feel?"

"Terrified," he said, looking down with a humble swallow.

"Good. You should be."

"What do I do?"

"You already did it. Gonna have to live with it now."

Overwhelmed with his own happiness, Lyle petted his face with a shaking hand. "Do I leave her among the serfs?"

"For now, yes. Unless the baby has five fingers and a habit of sticking bugs up its nose, Bridgehead won't know it's yours." The colonel took a moment to dwell on another thought. "Come to think of it, I haven't noticed any children in their camp."

"They choose not to," Lyle explained.

"Ah, well, no wonder she took to you. Desperation—that explains it."

Lyle still laughed at the roast. "So, uh, if Ardmore finds out…?"

"I'll make sure she won't. You really have done and did it this time, son. Now you got a woman and child to think about. Remember, if this was any other situation, I'd just shoot you in the crotch, so be thankful you're blue."

"Never thought I'd hear you tell me that."

"Everything went out the window the day I woke up with a tail. Next thing I know, you'll be sportin' the loincloth. And the last I'll see of you is your damn blue cheeks as you go disappearing into the jungle."

"Oh no, sir."

"Give it time. Now that you have a little lady, you'll forget all about me."

"No, I won't," he protested. "No matter what, I'll follow you wherever you go."

"You ain't natural, Lyle," he replied with a head sway. After bringing up his hand to rub his own face, Quaritch took note of his watch and the time that flew by. "Spider must be making Lake Erie out there. Better go an' check on him. Wait here. And don't get into any more trouble."

"I'll try, sir."

"Like hell, you will."

In the cover of darkness, Spider felt his way back to the mountaintop. He was in a grotto shielded behind se'ayl (waterfalls), letting himself be guided by the creeping vines' bioluminescence, when he suddenly heard three bird whistles. He stopped in his tracks, disbelieving the sounds of nature.

"Fìtsengeti pesul?" he spoke into the night after twisting his head.

Soon, the darkness weaved together into a figure that stepped out. "Spider?"

His mouth flung open, for there, standing before him, rallying all the cave's light to cling to his body, was Neteyam. The prince kneeled immediately to be face-to-face with his onrushing brother.

|"What are you doing here, man?"| Spider whispered enthusiastically, as much as secrecy would allow.

|"We saw you flying earlier and followed you."|

|"We? Who else is here?"|

Swiftly and quietly like the wind, another stealth figure emerged. |"Neteyam. The—"| When Lew saw Spider, he was shocked. |"How did he get down here?"|

Spider was overcome with emotions, and his thoughts were running a mile a minute, but he held it all back just so he could speak. |"I can't believe this is happening. How—? Are your ikrans nearby?"|

|"Brother, calm."|

|"Neteyam, the rekoms could show at any moment,"| Lew warned.

He heeded Lew and flashed his eyes back to Spider. |"Listen to me, brother. The whole camp is spreading gossip about you. Many are saying you have sided with the Chief of Demons."|

Spider's elation fled, and he cocked his head away from Neteyam. |"What are you talking about? I'm a prisoner. He has me hostage!"|

|"A hostage who walks freely,"| noticed Lew.

"You guys think I'm one of them?"

"Lew! Kehe! No, Spider, that's not it. Father and I would both fear for your safety among the clan right now."

"So you're telling me to stay at Bridgehead?! They tortured me!"

Neteyam's confusion only heightened. "Then why are you out here?"

"Because—dammit, Quaritch wanted my help. He's— He's been protecting me."

Relieved, Neteyam released his breath. "Father was hoping for that." He then reached out his palm to connect with Spider's shoulder. "But I can't take you back, brother. The Omatikaya will kill you if you return. They think you betrayed us to Vrrtepeyktan by warning him about Father's trap. We have not told them that it is because you are his—" His eyes softened. "Are you his son?"

With disappointment he couldn't hide, Spider simply answered, "No."

"Then… Then, why are you with—?"

|"Neteyam, I hear one coming!"| Lew began to panic.

The three went still as the ghostly melody of the wind played, and over its ominous whistles, Quaritch's voice emerged.

Lew reached for his arrow.

|"Don't!"| Spider hushed. |"Don't do it."|

Neteyam's braids clashed. "Brother, I don't understand you."

"He's my friend, okay!" No word on Spider's part could have struck his brother more. Lew may have lowered his arrow from Neteyam's press, but the friend was desperately seeking answers from the prince, who had none to give. |"Just go. Go before he sees you!"| Spider commanded to both.

"Spider?" Quaritch called once more.

When the recom stepped into view, the two Na'vi were already hidden, and Spider was left alone, standing in front of the dark curtain.

"You okay?"

He jerked his dreadlocks as he felt the two sets of eyes watching from the shadows. "Yeah… Let's go." He hurriedly ran past Quaritch, making sure to remove him from the spot before anything could happen.

"You're in a hurry," Miles noted, calling up to Spider, who was already scaling the stoney stairway.

"I just remembered. Harvey wanted me back at a certain time."

"He did? I don't remember that."

"Well, you know how he is. I can't risk pissing him off."

"I hear ya. But I'll be driving this time." Quaritch then paused to sniff the air, petrifying his pathfinder. "Sos sool."

"Huh?"

"Sos sool. I hear that's what they call the smell of running water," he clarified, pointing to the quiet cascade.

"Uh, yeah, sosul."

"Hey, my Na'vi's getting better every day."

The conversation faded as they headed away, and when all was safe again, did the hidden ones emerge.

|"What do we do, Neteyam? The people were right. Spider has sided with the Chief of Demons."|

|"No, I don't think so. But… perhaps letting him walk back to the enemy was not wise."|

|"So what happens now?"|

In a rare moment for the usually composed prince, his swallows became audible. |"We go home."|

Beyond Homestead, outside the hearing of the recombinants, who covered their ears for shooting practice, Zwefnawo entered his people's stables. His face was staunch with determination as the giant of great inner strength drummed his encrypted shout over the wicked land's field of death to his hidden allies.

Na'vi are people invisible with ears that always hear. For weeks, there were scouts in the jungle around the city awaiting Zwefnawo's messages. The humans did not know of their presence and, in their arrogance, would never have perceived them as a threat. But an opponent with a weaker weapon does not mean they are weak; it is the unpredictable actions of the lionhearted that make them deadly.

Zwefnawo's message travelled far; onward, he beat his drum, repeating his performance for as many times as he could before—

"Father?"

He spun around when he heard the voice. There, in the stable entrance, was his frozen daughter, staring back in bewilderment.

"Säro?" He gasped, then dropped his drumsticks and came over to her. |"Why are you not in the human's centre?"|

|"What are you doing?"| she accused. |"What are you sending by drum?"|

|"My daughter, I only send news to our brothers beyond."|

|"What news?"|

He nervously pressed her arms, trying to calm both her and himself. |"News of the enemy—to make our people aware."|

|"So this is why you came here?"| she contended. |"Is this why that little Skyperson was asking about you?—You send word on to Rider of Last Shadow!"|

Zwefnawo's anger rose upon hearing his daughter's accusatory tone, and he countered with sternness. |"You talk like it is I who is the enemy! I came here to avenge your mother and all our people!"|

|"Father, please!"| Säro pleaded. |"You know the danger in doing this."|

His breathing steadied as he gripped his daughter's shoulder. |"I choose to take this risk—for you."|

|"What messages have you sent?"| she demanded.

|"Säro, this does not concern you."|

|"This does concern me! Have these messages placed Ly'il in danger?"|

|"Daughter, he is our people's enemy! You have forgotten that!—Forgot how the Skypeople killed your mother! Forgot that he is a demon who works for her murderers!"|

"Kehe!" she shouted. |"You cannot group them all as one like this! Ly'il is our friend! You cannot endanger him. Father, I beg you!"|

|"I will do what I must."| He grabbed and shook her in his anger. |"And you must cease talking with him. I have tolerated too much of his presence. You are foolish, child. You are blind to what he is!"|

Bitter tears streamed down Säro's face as he rattled her. His heart no longer carried that gentle warmth she always knew him for but a burning vengeance that scalded. She was torn in two: one half from her father's betrayal and the other half from her own betrayal upon shouting, |"He is my mate!"|

Zwefnawo's world went silent. His hands released Säro, and he stepped back from her in a daze. |"When?"|

|"At the Tunnel of Spirits. Many, many days ago…"| she whimpered.

Zwefnawo was nonplussed and spun away, feeling his head trying to recover from the emotional blow.

|"Please stop these messages. Please do not endanger my husband."|

His eyes pierced into hers, and there was a finality in the way he stared back. |"You are not Na'vi anymore…"|

|"Father!"|

|"You are not one of us. You have chosen the demons over your own people!"|

|"Father, please…"| The woman cried and whispered, |"I carry child…"| She was desperately hoping he would remember her, even in the smallest way, but he banished her from the sanctum of his heart while the walls were still collapsing.

|"Leave this camp. Go to the demons. They are your people now. Not us. Never again will it be us."|

"Sempul!" she wailed, but her cries fell on deaf ears.

|"Go… Go!"|

He chased her out of the stables and sent her running off to Homestead in tears. Zwefnawo listened to her fading sound until it was entirely replaced by the cacophony of stable animals, agitated from the row. He took his clenched fist and struck a wooden post with such force that it left a dent. Doubling over on his legs, the man shot out a pained, agonized roar that soon devolved into tears.