𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊
NETEYAM
𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊
NETEYAM FOUGHT THE CLOSING of his eyes as he held onto Pasuk's saddle. From the corner of his eyes, he could see Lo'ak leaning forward, his forehead almost pressing against his Ikran's skin. He yipped quickly, three identical high pitched sounds coming one after the word, and watched as Lo'ak straightened with a bleary blink. His brother threw him a nod before facing forward, Neteyam following suit and looking at the vast waters that surrounded them.
It went on forever, clear blue water all he could see ahead of them. Small flashes of sea-live peaked through the waves, a darker blue here and there. It was beautiful, but it wasn't home.
Neteyam bit his tongue roughly and swelled back the knot in his throat. It was selfish to reminice over something her couldn't prevent, something that if he did prevent, would have his family murdered. So he did what he does best, and set his shoulders, chocking down the sadness that threatened to consume him.
Reaching over, he pressed a hand against Pasuk's side, the ikran's steady breathing a comforting movement against his skin. At least, he thought, I still have you.
It had worried him, that they would leave their ikran like they had left their pa'li and their friends, and the position he had been groomed to one day hold. Like they had left the trees and the home where the measurements of his growth remained carved into the wood. It frightened him to know that could truly loose everything so quickly.
It felt wrong to leave the forest for the waters they approached. Wrong for Tuk to grow so far away from her home surrounded by things she'd come to know but did not belong to her. To know that the younger might never tame her own ikran or make a bow from the wood of their home.
He blinked harshly and shook his head in an attempt to clear his mind. Selfish, he reminded himself, it was selfish to mourn for something so small when the alternative was mourning his family.
Looking down, something odd settled in his chest as he noted the upcoming village. Metkayina, his father had said, reef na'vi. It felt like a nauseating mix between relief and a deep sadness that had Pasuk grumbling in concern.
They weren't reef na'vi, it wouldn't be home.
He took in a deep breath as his father threw them a glance and began directing his own ikran to land. Bob, he had called it, and Neteyam thanked Eywa that their mother had taken it upon herself to name them instead of their father.
Pasuk turned sharply as they followed the rest, Neteyam positioning himself at the back of the line where could see everyone. They landed smoothly despite the change in texture, the surfaces of the forest very different from the sand that threatened to swallow Pasuk's talons. The ikran let out a short screech to communicate his discomfort as Neteyam broke tsaheylu and stepped down.
A loud horn sounded, na'vi pouring from all around them and circling the family. Neteyam pressed his hand once on Pasuk's side before stepping besides Lo'ak, his shoulders tense under the inspecting eyes of the Metkayina clan.
A boy stalked forward, appearing to be of similar age as himself, and ran heavy eyes over them. There was a sneer on the lighter boy's face as she crossed his arms, his tail- thicker than any Neteyam had seen before with a strange flattening at the end- flicked sharply behind him.
Neteyam shuffled closer to Lo'ak and positioned himself slightly infront of the younger. If it came down to it, he would lay his life down for his brother. That was what he was raised to do, all he had left of himself.
Another boy stepped forward, the two whispering under their breath as mocking laughs escaped them. Neteyam had never hated himself more as he stood before a foreign clan to be inspected like faulty game.
Once again, he wished he could go home, and once again, he shamed himself for it.
Movement from Lo'ak startled him out of his thoughts, Neteyam throwing him a confused glance before following his sightline. A small smile tugged on his lip for the first time in days as he watched the girl giggle under her breath as his brother drooled over her. He threw Lo'ak another look, this one teasing, as the younger's ears flicked quickly.
The girl neared them, her hand wrapped around another one as they approach the boy from before and settled besides him. The Metkayina boy glanced at them quickly before returning to his mocking and Neteyam clenched his jaw as he turned his eyes back to the girls.
The girl, not the one Lo'ak awed over, greeted them, her hand flicking down her face. First Lo'ak, who knocked himself out of his stupor long enough to answer, and then Neteyam.
She was beautiful.
Taller than the girl besides her with long hair that tumbled down her back in a mix of braids and curls. Colorful shells decorated strands of her hair and a thick armband glinted softly under the sun. Her clothing was similar to his yet so vastly different, seaweed and shells replacing his leaves and wooden beads.
Around her thigh, another strap was tied, this one with a dagger attached. She was perhaps the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. He returned the greeting with a nod and looked away quickly, her eyes- not unlike the clear water that surrounded them- the only thing he could think about.
The Olo'eyktan spoke as his mother and the Tsahik hissed furiously at each other.
"Toruk Makto and his family will stay with us." His voice was soft despite his intimidating stature and Neteyam hated everything once again. In another life, that could have been him. "Treat them as our brothers and sisters."
Olo'eyktan turned to face his people. "They do not know the sea, so they will be like babies taking their first breath. Teach them our ways," he turned his heavy gaze back to them and Neteyam could feel Lo'ak bristling besides him, "So they do not suffer the same of being useless."
The younger boy flinched at the words, Neteyam reaching over and clasping a hand around the back of his neck. He could feel Lo'ak relaxing under the weight of his hand and bit his tongue, the words his father had whispered constantly ringing in his head. Protect them. Protect him.
His father sighed, a short sound filled with relief, and placed Tuk down. "What do we say?"
Neteyam wanted to scream at his words. He wanted to whine and cry at the command to express gratitude for something he despised so much. But he was not a child, he had to protect, so instead he mumbled out a brief, "Thank you."
Olo'eyktan spoke again as he waved a hand at the boy from before and the girl besides him. "My son, Ao'nung, and my daughter, Tsireya, will show your children what to do."
As soon as the word left the clan leader's mouth, his son turned to him with blazing eyes. "Why me?"
He was stopped by the glare that met his words, his shoulders dropping in defeat even as the purse of his lips remained. Neteyam wanted to go home. He wanted the liberty of being Olo'eyktan's first born, of knowing his home and its rules. He wanted what was promised to him; he wanted the reward of all the burdens we would carry to his grave.
Selfish.
The girl, Tsireya, stepped forward, her hand still clasped around the other girl's wrist. "Please," she smiled, "Follow us." She grabbed one of the packs his father had placed on the sand and handed it to the other girl before reaching for another. "We will show you your new home."
Home. The word rang in his head with heaviness. A new home that he did not want. A new home that he would mourn without loosing. But what did it matter, he waved Pasuk off and reached for another pack, he had not been raised to complain.
𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊
IT WAS DIFFERENT FROM the forest, he decided.
Perhaps not in the worst way, at least it was still warm. The sun shone down brightly against his skin as the group walked to the water. The girl from the day before, Tsireya had woken early to collect them, informing that they would be learning the way of the water.
Neteyam wanted to complain, he was so tired. They had spent days flying out to reach Metkayina on little food and less sleep. He just wanted to rest, but Tuk had cried the night before. She had sobbed about the 'new home' they found themselves in. It was selfish for him to complain, being so much older and mature enough to understand that it was a necessity, so he kept quiet and smiled at the girl.
Tuk let out a laugh that warmed his chest as she felt her feet digging into the sand. "This feels weird," she decided.
Neteyam wanted to nod at her words, it did feel weird. He could feel every particle of hot sand on the soles of his feet and, once again, missed the cool soil of the forest.
As they neared the water, he could see the boy, Ao'nung, playing around in the water with the girl from before. Something pressed heavily against his chest.
He could hear Ao'nung asking his sister a question, but his mind wasn't into it, not really. All he could see was her, floating face up in the water, a peaceful expression her face.
To her, it was home.
The girl sighed, her body sinking slowly into the water until all he could see was a distorted version of her against the sad.
"Who is she?" Lo'ak wondered as he stepped beside Neteyam and threw him a small teasing smile.
The girl rose out of the water, her hair flat against her back and her skin gleaming under the sun. She seems to shine and he couldn't bring himself to look away.
"I didn't introduce her yesterday." Tsireya's ears flickered in shame, a small giggle escaped her. "This is Tsa'tvayi. She is a friend.'
Tsa'tvayi. She waved at them, her aqua eyes meeting his. Neteyam wanted to blush, but she looked away as quickly as had looked at him. Tsa'tvayi. The name echoed in his head as he turned away from her and watched Tuk splash in the water.
They all stepped into the water following Tsireya's instructions. They dived, but it was difficult to stay under, Neteyam's chest burning from the lack of air
The Metkayina swam quickly, their bodies resembling fish, and stayed under for far longer than Neteyam even knew was possible. They could not though, it wasn't home and they needed air.
He blanked out again, conversation happening but all he could think about now was the forest. Neteyam loved climbing the trees sitting at the top and watching the Ikran soaring through the air. He loved taking flight and running for his life when he encountered a palulukan.
Now, all he had was water and baby lungs.
"Where's Kiri?" The other boy from the day before asked, Rotxo he believed they had called him.
Neteyam narrowed his eyes as he looked around them and felt shame swelling in his chest. First day, and he already lost Kiri.
"Kiri?" Tsa'tvayi asked in confusion and he briefly remembered they hadn't introduced himself. So like always, he stepped forward.
"Our sister," he responded. "I'm Neteyam." He reached forward and clasped a hand on Lo'ak's neck, feeling his pulse under his fingers. "This is Lo'ak and this is Tuktirey."
Tuk grinned brightly. "Call me Tuk."
Tsa'tvayi grinned just as widely down at his sister, Neteyam watching the interaction closely. Freak, he had heard the others whisper. He wouldn't let Tuk hear it too.
Tsireya began leading them back to the shore, "Come on, let's practice breathing. Rotxo, go look for Kiri."
"You will be with me." Tsireya waved at Lo'ak as soon as they left the water, Neteyam smirking slightly. "Ao'nung will take Neteyam." His amusement disappeared. "And Tsa'tvayi will take Tuk."
It was better, he supposed. That Tuk wouldn't have to work with Ao'nung. He sighed quietly. Selfish.
Then, Tuk raced over. "Look!" Something was shoved into his face, a shell. ""Tsa'tvayi got it for me, to put it in my hair," Tuk beamed.
The shell was beautiful, unlike anything he had seen before that day. It seemed to catch the sun every time he moved it and the bundle in Neteyam's chest loosened slightly. Tuk, at least, would grow happy.
"It's so pretty," he marveled with a smile as he handed the younger back her new shell.
"That's that I said," she responded with a laugh and turned back to Tsa'tvayi. "Thank you."
Neteyam looked up at her from where he was sitting carefully, his eyes running over the blush rising to her face and the tail that curled around her own waist. Thank you, he said silently, a small smile tugging at his lips.
Not for the shell. Not really. But because he know knew Tuk would be happy, even if he wasn't.