It is hard to explain how losing someone you love feels like. Even losing has different meanings. I lost dad for good, but I also lost Maitrey because of something that wasn't death. I lost the Sullys when my family moved out of the forest, but it was destiny that reunited us; it wasn't forever. But what happened with Atswon was as permanent as it could've been.
He was dead. He had been burnt. He had died a savior.
It all came back to the stupid Sky People and their fucking deadly nature. That was them: all-consuming, like a virus that infects an organism and kills it from the inside. First our forests, our animals, our Hometree, and then our people, our families, mothers and fathers, ikrans and Tulkuns. Life was not precious to the Sky People. It was merely something they had to survive, a game to be played and a bet to win. To see what side of the gun had the trigger, and who was to be shot.
It was excruciatingly infuriating to be unable to do anything. Attracting the Sky People to Awa'atlu was the furthest away from a bold move, and it would only make us an easy target. But letting them hunt us down wasn't an option, either. There was one thing I knew I had to do: kill whoever was responsible for Atswon's death, and make it as long-lasting and painful as his death had been. I wanted every Sky Person in that metal ikran of theirs to perish, to die from my hand. I was going to make it possible.
Through my anger were flashes of sadness. My brain urged me to keep afloat the memories of the previous night, as much as I didn't want to. One moment I was throwing knives at makeshift targets, and the other I was with the clan singing the mourning song. One second I was stealing Jake's gun from his mauri and shooting desperately at sacks of sand, and another I was seeing Atswon's parents remove him from the resting bed. I saw him sinking. I saw him getting absorbed by the sea, by the Spirit Tree. Ronal kept leading the chanting while everyone else held hands, the flow of energy went from tip to tip and made my body shake with breathy sighs that were meant to be cries, but I had run out of tears.
It was in that ephemeral wave of united souls that I came to the obvious realization. Atswon was gone forever. Fortunately for me, there was a boy that was always there for me when the voices in my head got too loud. And during the funeral Neteyam held my hand with such delicacy, intertwining our fingers and brushing his thumb on my skin, that I managed to hold onto the sight of Atswon's lifeless body just long enough to process my ideas.
But I had slipped off Neteyam's sight as soon as we returned from the Cove of Ancestors, and made my way to the shack. It was a place he could walk in anytime he wanted to, but he didn't and I tried to convince myself I didn't care. I shot bullets, guns, arrows, and knives until my fingers drew blood and my arms turned numb. My breaths weren't even erratic, they were only tired sighs I let out while my hand squeezed the left side of my chest. The emotional pain didn't wait to turn physical.
I started screaming at the top of my lungs, spinning around the mangrove forest, suddenly unable to remember the exit. I felt suffocated. My head turned in circles while tears filled my eyes. I dropped the gun I was holding, only to grab my hunting knife and start lashing and cutting the crust of a tree.
"I need you to come back!" I yelled, my voice raspy and high-pitched. "I need my friend!"
I closed my eyes, seeing a black screen with my breaths as background sound. I had an idea.
I tightened my grip on the knife and directed my shaky arm to my wrist. The blade hadn't made contact, but somehow I felt the sharpness of the thanator fang. I knew it would cut if I moved it closer to my skin. There was a moment of nothingness in which I stayed still, but just as quickly moved the knife.
The curved tip of the fang had only just managed to puncture my skin when a blue hand pulled my arm away. My first instinct was to oppose the force, but he was quicker to turn me around and immobilize my right limb. We were back to back.
"Maway," he said. He kept holding me still for more moments until he spun me around. I looked up to find Neteyam's face close to mine, his eyes wide open and a big frown. I gazed back and forth between the knife and his gold-like eyes. He didn't say a word, but our minds, connected as one ever since we were kids, told me something. 'He wouldn't want that'.
I stared into him. The point of the knife found its way to Neteyam's chest whilst my eyes turned watery in between the frown I had and the lack of blinking. He wasn't afraid I would hurt him, because he knew I couldn't, and I knew it, too. There just wasn't any reason to, and if there was it'd still never be enough to hurt him. Neteyam was all too caring to let himself follow a traumatized girl into the forest when she was in the middle of a mental collapse, not knowing if she was more angry than sad, but certainly having one thing on her mind: revenge.
The fang knife made almost no sound when I dropped it on the grass, my hand suddenly too weak. Both of us were quick in embracing each other; I did it like my life depended on it, but it was only my sanity.
His body was as warm as always, and it was something I associated with the nice sensations he made me feel. He had his left hand on my lower back and the right one on the back of my head. Quiet sobs left my body as Neteyam pulled me closer to him until our breaths combined and I was sure he could feel my heartbeat.
"I miss him," I whispered.
"I know," he answered.
I couldn't understand how he always remained calm. With me, at least. He could have easily been called Lowsla if he had turned out to be a girl, because, just as the Tulkun that owned the name, he had to selves. I had seen him mad, his body tense, and giving side eyes to everyone. But it was a different story with me. I had probably already given him a dozen reasons for him to snap, but he didn't. The most I had seen was a frown. I began to wonder if he had a soft spot for me.
But whatever my thoughts were —which made me daydream— they weren't what I needed to think about. It had to be Atswon, not Neteyam. My best friend had died. I tried to focus.
"They deserve to die for what they did. I'll kill them all." My words broke the silence, but Neteyam didn't say anything. I was expecting an answer that I didn't receive for what felt like the longest minutes of my life.
"They deserve it, yes. And his death is not something you can easily get over with. But don't torture yourself this way. Please."
I closed my eyes and breathed in. "Why do you always have to step in?" I asked. My question was purely transmitting a confusion I had had since he came into my life once again. 'Why not let me be?'. Through my blindness, I couldn't see why he would willingly decide to involve in problems that weren't his. He tried solving them, giving the right words, and there was no one else I knew that did it, as well. Atswon was the closest to it, but I knew he did it because he hated conflict. He had the demeanor of a mean, tough guy, and although he did have some of the latter in him, his spiritualist, caring, and nice personality was far greater. Conflict wasn't in his plans, so he tried to find a way to solve others' disputes.
For Netetam, though, he had told me himself during one of the nights we spent in The Caves. He said that for a very long time, he had been lost. It was hard enough being the chief's son, and getting into fights was mostly Lo'ak's go-to activity that he always got dragged in. I assumed that those two separate ideas came together in one statement: Neteyam started involving because that was all he learned to do when his family was in trouble. It was a natural reflex. But inferring wasn't enough for me, for there was always a chance to be wrong.
"Because I care about you, morning, noon, and night," he finally answered.
"Why?" My voice had barely been a swish that got brushed away by the wind of midday. Neteyam and I were still very much together, but we pulled our upper bodies fat enough so we could stare at each other's faces. My eyes roamed every faction of his face, just so that I could analyze the expression he had.
His eyebrows shot upward incredulously. He slightly lowered one of his brows and started smiling. He only showed the tips of a few teeth while his smile lines were quick to appear. He tilted his head to one side and continued looking into my eyes.
"Because you're my wife."
Wife. Neteyam had never used that word to describe me. A month before this and I would have called myself crazy to think he'd be standing in front of me, calling me his wife. In fact, I would have laughed, because Neteyam and the Sullys were supposed to be back in the forest, not in the reef. But it wasn't a month before, and Neteyam actually was there, and I probably looked stupid by not saying anything.
But when I looked at him, I knew he didn't need an answer. He didn't need me to say he was my husband, because it was something we had long known about, even if it was only now we seemed to have come aware.
There was an unexpected bliss that made me shiver in his arms. It was another reason to feel that the moment itself was unbelievable: Atswon wasn't there to see it. Better say, not to see it, but to hear me rant about it. He wouldn't be there if I needed advice or comfort, not even for laughs. He would never get to tell me any more about Nueiy, and how he hoped they could mate one day after our fake-mating situation cleared out. I had begun to think that I'd never come to terms with his death, but the tiniest spark of hope lit up from the thought of doing in my life what he couldn't do in his. That approach was new, and I was sure that not many would understand that I wasn't an act of selfishness, but quite the opposite. We were like brother and sister, the kind that turned the other's happiness into yours, and that felt it like the flame in that heart roared with the same strength.
So I did the boldest move I could have thought of. I did the only thing I wanted to do at the moment. What felt right. Neteyam's eyes didn't leave mine throughout the seconds I spent immersed in my mind. I had only just noticed we slowly moved closer to each other, both of our faces less than an inch away.
Neteyam tilted his head to his right, and I mimicked on mine. His half-lidded eyes were far from looking into mine, his sight solely focused on my lips; I was staring at his slightly parted mouth and looked up for a second into his eyes, simply to know if he was as sure as I was. We both closed our eyes while his left hand, placed on my cheek and jaw, pulled us forward.
There was no space separating our lips.
We kissed.
Once, twice, more soft kisses came, and I let myself get lost in the moment. The kisses were slow and tender, so gentle I got the time to feel his soft lips on mine. There was an unceasing movement on my stomach that felt like a strong tingling and fluttering of wings.
It was my very first time kissing someone, but I felt no shyness because Neteyam was on equal terms. I rested my hands on his chest and trailed a path with my fingers from his wide shoulders to his soft neck and then to his braids. I tugged them as an impulse, not really feeling quite logical. Neteyam stopped his mouth to let out a deep, breathy, and almost inaudible noise.
"What-"
"Don't," he interrupted, his voice a few tones deeper than usual, and raspy as well. I smiled slyly, and decided to pull from his hair once again, the thumb of my free hand going to caress up and down the side of his neck. He let out the choky noise again. Neteyam's ears perked up and then down, only to keep twitching when I gave small pecks from his jaw back to his lips.
"Like it much?" I asked.
"Very."
I let out a small chuckle that couldn't compare to how flustered I looked or how I felt like I was melting inside. My heartbeat remained fast and strong to a point that I feared it might explode, the sound of blood pumping —or whatever it was that was a constant song— filled my ears.
Neteyam laughed with me, and I wanted nothing more but to keep intact the way he sounded and how he looked when doing it. It was him, and the kiss, that made me feel complete, like what I had longed for was finally granted. And I couldn't imagine any other way that things could have played out, because after every separation and obstacle we had come back to each other's arms.
I could have lived in that moment forever, with no Sky People, no parents, no duties, and, most importantly, no lifeless Atswon. No pain, no grief. Just us, Neteyam and I, husband and wife, mates for life and beyond. We were one.
But the sound of a horn cut the connection. We both turned to where the sound came from, and my eyes widened in realization. Neteyam didn't understand, but I did.
The Tulkun had returned.
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Author's note:
Hello, people! Can I get a round of applause for the kiss? Yes, thank you. I'm the best, I know. Don't think that it will be all for the grieving, just be patient. By the way, how was the Charles and Diana moment? I honestly love that scene! (If you don't know what I'm referring to:
Charles: I hug who I want. I hug who I love. Particularly when they are affected by the selfishness of others and need cheering up!
Diana: Who are you referring to?
Charles: Camila.
Diana: Why would I care about her?!
Charles: Because I care about her! Morning, noon, and night I care about her and you hurt her...)
Anyways, I love Neteyam.
Also, I found this picture/edit and I think it's beautiful! You can imagine this is how you look like if you want to (obviously just ignore that you and Lo'ak got taken a photo). Credits to the artist!
Lastly, I hope I didn't keep you waiting long! I had and still have a bunch of projects to hand in, so I barely had the time to write this. I'll try to write as much as I can and upload it ASAP, but you will probably have to wait two days.
Don't forget, Neteyam would love it if you left votes!
Happy Thursday, cheers.
Sincerely, Dina.