Finding the beaded-handled dagger and the vine-wrapped Ionar was simple, they were in the same place that they always were. They were tucked neatly and tightly into the blankets that had been weaved for her so long ago, not ever being dared moved nor disturbed.
They were the two things given to Kiri.
One by her parents, and one by Lo'ak.
At first, it had been Lo'ak to be given the dagger, though it had been Kiri who had found him that night, preparing to throw it into the sea in a rage-driven stage of grief. She had stopped him, holding his hand as they hugged and spoke quietly, neither bringing up the fact that they both were crying.
Lo'ak had asked her to keep it safe, to hold onto it for him until he was ready to wield it.
It broke Kiri's heart knowing she'd never be able to return it to him.
But what was asked of her is what would be done.
Though the Ionar, it hadn't even fit her when she first received it from their mother. When Neytiri placed it on her head, only for it to fall over her eyes, resting on her nose. And when the older woman tried to adjust the vine to tighten it, Kiri nearly began crying.
She couldn't handle having it changed, too much had already changed.
She just needed one thing to stay the same.
So, they never tightened the vine. Instead, Kiri offered to wait to wear it when she was older.
She hadn't touched it in over three years.
And now here she was, preparing to let it go.
And she didn't know if it even fit her or not.
Stepping into their Marui was a somber moment, no one else was inside, and she was left alone hearing the slow beating of that familiar rhythm. Despite its slow rhythm and the almost dying pounding of the beat, it seemed to echo against her skull.
And with each step, she took closer to those old woven blankets, the louder that echo became, until finally she grabbed the wrapped-up material and it all silenced.
Gently unraveling the cloth, she sighed heavily at the sight of the dagger and Ionar, neither touched nor disturbed. Left in the same condition that they had been last used.
And now they would return to Eywa.
Just as he had.
Carefully she knelt and pushed herself around to sit against the wall of the Marui, setting the blanket on her lap as she stared at the items passively. Grief had such a strange effect on her, it was such a numbing feeling, it was as though she had been tranquilized from the bottom of her toes to the tip of her ears. And yet her heart only continued to reach out and cry for what once was, despite her brain reminding her heart that it was over, that there was no going back.
Gingerly, she grabbed the Ionar, examining the structure of it all as she ran her fingers along the molted insect wings that created the base of the mask. Inhaling deeply she made sure that the vine was the same as before, seated on the correct notch as before.
She then raised the mask to her head, closing her eyes as she put it on.
It fits perfectly now.
And at that, she began to cry.
That was right, they hadn't done the annual height check every 6 months as they had used to when they were younger. So that meant now, she was the same size as him as three years ago.
And she had to give it up.
Three years, a part of her longing and waiting to be able to have the Ionar fit without ever having to tamper with it, just to keep some part of her brother alive.
And she had to give it up.
She had to return the last bits of her brother to Eywa, so they could let go.
A part of her felt reassurance that Eywa cared for her brother, that he was okay now. He was with her. But another part of her wished that even if it was just for a bit longer, she could keep this part of him.
But she had to let go.
That's what this day was about, wasn't it?
Honoring the journey that everyone took in this life to return to Eywa, even when some journeys were not able to be completed.
It was the celebration of the last step in life.
Though it did not feel like a day of celebration.
Not to her.
It felt like it should be quiet, that everyone should close their eyes and bow their heads in silence.
Not dance and sing.
But that's not what he would have wanted for her.
She knew that; she accepted it.
He had always tried to pull her out of her comfort zone, respecting her boundaries while finding new ways to push her to make friends with either the Omatikayas her age or the Metkayinas.
He loved to dance and sing, but he didn't get the chance to do it much, always too busy playing the third parent. He was always busy making sure Tuk and Lo'ak were safe, and he was busy making sure his second youngest sister was happy and safe in her solitude.
That was one thing Kiri could never accept.
Her brother had protected everyone, till the very end. He was willing to risk everything to make sure his siblings were happy, and that they were safe. And yet he could never show himself such kindness, he could never be lenient with himself.
He always held himself up to high standards, half the time it hadn't even been their father to set those expectations. It had been him. The oldest son who felt as though it was his duty to live up to his father's name, to live up to the stories of both of their parents, and to protect everyone that came to him.
He had cared for everyone, with a strong heart and a strong mind. A heart too big for the war. And yet he couldn't show himself, such love. He had such a hard time accepting it from others as well.
And Kiri now would never have the chance to tell him, to tell him that everyone he meets eventually comes to respect him the same way his siblings did, the same way they still do. That it was not his job to handle everyone else's mistakes, that it was not his job to take the burden of everything.
That just because he was the oldest, he was not alone.
But she could not say that now.
Because Neteyam died believing he had the duty to protect everyone but himself, and that it was his duty to be perfect for their parents and his siblings.
Kiri would never again have the chance to tell him how much she loved him.
And just how sorry she was that she had been unable to help him in time.
When her tears hit the blade of the dagger, soaking into the strong thin vines that held the beads to the handle, she finally opened her eyes, keeping a hand on the Ionar as she grabbed the dagger. Twisting the weapon in her hand as she watched the tears roll off the tip of the blade.
Kiri remembered when he had first been gifted this dagger by their father.
He had been so proud to be given it, to finally have his own weapon to wield.
But that handle had been too tough for him to hold, it continuously rubbed his palms raw, no matter which hand he held it in.
Though he had been too stubborn to say a thing, to go to their father and explain what was wrong. No, he chose to practice day and night with the dagger until his hands were bloody and raw. He would then return to their home and bandage his hands himself, sometimes receiving the help of their grandmother if she caught him, and after thoroughly scolding him about being reckless, she taught him the correct ways to fix up his hands.
But after a while of this, Kiri caught on, only to catch her brother in the act of trying to wash the blood off of his palms in the river just outside of their home. Without much resistance, Kiri had been able to convince him to let her see the dagger, and see what could be done.
After a little while of thinking and trying to find a way to keep her brother's hands unmarred, she came up with the idea of beading the handle.
At first, he had been against it, stating that their father wouldn't like him doing such a thing to his dagger. Though after Kiri jabbed him in the side and thoroughly explained to him that the dagger was no longer Jake's, it was now his, and he was allowed to do what he pleased with it. He agreed.
It had taken them all night. Sneaking out of their home to sit at the top of one of the trees near the river as they braided the beads into the vines and secured them to the handle. And after all night, right when eclipse had ended and the sun began to rise, the beads shone in the new light of day, creating a gentle glow among the dark blue of her brother's skin.
And since then, the handle had never once again caused his palms any damage, and Jake had even complimented them on their handy work.
Another fond memory that she'd have to give up.
A part of her understood why holding on so tightly was limiting her. She could understand, reference the times she had allowed herself to be so overwhelmed in her own grief that she hadn't even heard someone calling her own name, reference the times when she'd go to his Ikran and try to soothe the animal.
But ever since he was gone, Tak'ulan, his Ikran, had practically gone wild once again. Refusing to let anyone too close, hissing at those who tried to calm her. Awaiting the return of her chosen rider. And Kiri wished that she could stand to be around the creature for longer than a few minutes to tell the poor thing that her rider, her friend, was gone.
In a way, she knew that she was limiting herself with all of this. That he would wish for her to move on. But it hurt in ways she couldn't work through. Because when she had lost something before, he had been there to work her through it, to soothe her along the way.
When the war began, he had been there.
When they had lost Spider, he had been there.
When they left their home in the jungle, he had been there.
When she had a seizure underwater, he had been the one to save her, he had been there.
But now... now he was not. And it was crushing to realize how little she knew of herself to heal without him.
Perhaps it was all for the best, though it would still hurt.
——————————————————————-
The rock was cool underneath his feet, the waves created a soothing crashing rhythm against the rocks of the shore of the coral. His skimwing waded in the water around him, swimming in tune with the tide while he watched as eclipse approached.
A part of himself knew that he should have gone to check up on Kiri, see if she knew where the items were that they needed to return. But he didn't have the heart to do it.
He knew that more than likely she had them by now, and if not she would have come to him to assist her in searching for them. So, until he was needed, he would avoid the topic at all costs.
He still couldn't understand it.
Why would Eywa, the great mother, the merciful and unbiased protector, feel the need to torture them in such a way? Ao'nung had full faith in the great mother, he could never mistake his confusion and strife for resentment.
But still, how could these items, these few precious items be holding them both back?
Ao'nung hadn't even seen the Ionar or the beaded dagger in years, not since...
So, how could it be holding him back? Perhaps in a way, it was affecting Kiri, but him? It seemed so unlikely, so irrational.
He only had his memories to hang onto now, and the one physical tie he has. No one even knows of it, not even Tsireya. So, why had he been dragged into this? Why did the great Eywa feel the need to pull him further into his regret?
There were so many things he regretted already. Why add to it?
He regretted not being able to apologize.
He regretted not speaking the truth when he had the chance.
And he continues to regret being so distant from his family, and the Sullys.
Was adding another regret his punishment for all his mistakes?
The regret that he could not uphold his promise, at least not to Kiri.
It seemed cruel to him, though he supposed he had been cruel before, cruel in his teasing and mocking, and unjust in his justification of his actions. Was this the way he was to redeem himself? By suffering the same cruelty?
"Ao'nung! Brother! What are you doing?! The festival starts soon!" Tsireya's voice broke through his thoughts, the man snapping his head to the younger as she waded forward on her skimwing.
"Ah, I was checking to see if any more fish were coming around these tide pools," Ao'nung answered as he raised the spear he had brought as a cover story.
"I see... Aonung, are you all right? You have seemed off for some time now." Tsireya questioned as she climbed onto the rock, sitting at her elder brother's side, waiting for an answer from the hunter who only looked away from her for a moment.
"I am fine. Merely thinking of what is needed for tomorrow, since it is the last day of the festival. We need to make sure we have enough food. How is Notevi?" Ao'nung asked, changing the subject while Tsireya scrunched her nose at the dismissal of her question.
"She is having fun with the little ones. Though I believe she would have had more fun if her big brother would have been there with her a little longer last night. Where had you run off to anyways?" The girl questioned while Ao'nung held back the jump at the realization that his absence had been noticed.
"Ah, I had just gone for a swim to clear my head, the elders talked my ears off last night. And I didn't feel like socializing yet." Ao'nung stated casually while Tsireya nodded, relieving the man that no further questions would be asked about his absence.
"I understand, are they still questioning you about any potential mates? Or have they finally diverted their attention from that?" Tsireya teased, Ao'nung scowling at the idea as he sighed heavily, shaking his head.
"No, they still questioned that. Though thankfully, father and mother began asking questions about hunting and other things, so we were able to divert the conversation." Ao'nung grumbled, slumping forward where his head rested in his hands and his elbows rested on his knees.
"Brother, you know I only wish happiness for you. Maybe it is a good idea to at least start thinking about finding a mate, at the very least just to ease the elder's concerns." Tsireya stated while Ao'nung sighed heavily before standing from his spot.
"I do not wish to find anyone; I am content with how I am now." The man retorted, Tsireya only shook her head at the statement.
"Aonung, you don't need to lie to me. I know that a part of you is not happy, but I won't pressure you as they have. But I do urge you to at least consider branching out a bit. I'm sure many men and women would be interested in you courting them!" Tsireya offered happily, standing at her brother's side to place a hand on his shoulder, the hunter merely smiling at the girl.
"I appreciate it Reya, but for now. I prefer where I stand on these things." Ao'nung smiled gently, the girl only nodding to the answer before turning away from the man.
"We should head back to the festival, and don't worry about taking another break tonight, I won't tell anyone. I'm pretty sure Kiri did the same thing; she was gone just about as long as you were." Tisreya giggled, clicking her tongue to summon her skimwing. While behind her, Ao'nung sucked in air between his teeth in a low hiss.
They needed to be far more careful.
----------------------------------------------------
That night, the festival was just as lively as before. People were still dancing, singing, and smiling.
She found it ironic, that they were smiling and singing so lively on a night that was for honoring death, the final chapter in someone's life. Though perhaps they were reacting to it better than she was.
Once again, she was sitting near one of the bonfires, watching as men and women danced and twirled around her, many shouting and calling loudly into the night while others sang, though everyone was dancing, except her.
She just couldn't bring herself to pretend to be having fun right now. The items that were secured in the woven satchel that Tsireya had gifted her a year ago hung heavy on her shoulders. She felt like at any moment someone would realize what she was doing, what she was planning to do with those few precious items, and they would call her out in front of everyone.
And the beating. It was louder, even louder than earlier. It was a pounding rhythm, like the drums of war. It was frantic, it was scared. It reminded her of a mother Thantor running frantically through the jungle and brush to find her children, to save them from a fate she wishes not to think of.
It reminds her of those cubs, of those little ones who have not even begun their true journey through life, running for their short lives, running as fast and as heavy as their limbs could ever carry them. And Kiri was becoming terrified to hear the final beat of the frantic and heavy drumming.
"Hey Kiri, why are you just sitting here?" Lo'ak questioned, snapping Kiri out of her head as she looked over at her brother, he and Rotxo approached her while she gripped the satchel tightly.
"I just prefer to watch right now," Kiri responded bluntly, hoping that her brother and the Metkayina boy would take the hint to leave.
"Come on! It's a festival! And mom told us to have fun!" Lo'ak teased as he shoved her shoulder playfully, to which Kiri only responded by smacking the back of his hand.
"Also, why do you have a satchel with you?" Rotxo questioned, poking at the satchel, which Kiri hissed at. Standing quickly from where she had been seated on the sand. Both boys backed up quickly at the show of annoyance.
"Woah, Kiri what's going on?" Lo'ak asked worriedly, stepping forward to his sister while the girl waved him off.
"Don't worry about it Lo'ak. It's nothing." Kiri shrugged, though the younger only raised a brow at the nonchalance after such an extreme reaction from his normally calm and collected sister.
"Kiri! Let's-." Ao'nung started, swiftly weaving through the crowd, only to pause when he saw the two boys and Kiri. Rotxo and Lo'ak now looking at the man questioningly.
"Ao'nung? What is going on here?" Lo'ak questioned, glaring at the older man, only for Kiri to shove his shoulder gently.
"Yes, thank you for agreeing to teach me more about the festival, Aonung! Let's go over there where we won't be in everyone's way!" Kiri grinned, though her smile threatened the man if he did not play along. The hunter merely nodded, sparing Lo'ak and Rotxo a small glance before following after the girl.
"We need to be more careful. Tsireya knows that we left yesterday. Not together, but they'll figure it out after this." Ao'nung whispered, being sure to keep a fair amount of distance away from the girl while she merely grunted, hurrying her steps to the beach.
Once the two made it to the shoreline, they looked around for a moment before calling the Ilu and skimwing. Ao'nung once again led them to the cove of the ancestors as they sped through the crashing waves that tried to push them back. Neither reacting to the cold waters.
Once they arrived, Kiri was quick to jump off of her Ilu, looking at the man expectantly as he sat atop his skimwing. "Let us go now," Kiri ordered, though the hunter only grunted as he leaned forward on the creature, petting its snout gently while the animal purred.
"One of us should stay above water just in case," Ao'nung stated, though Kiri only huffed in annoyance as she dove underwater, only to come up to the surface next to the man's leg. Grabbing him by the ankle and dragging him down as the hunter shouted in surprise.
"What is your problem?!" Ao'nung shouted when they both resurfaced, Kiri still glaring at him annoyedly.
"We do not have the time for this! We need to go!" Kiri shouted, clutching the satchel with one hand while her free arm waded the water around her.
"Kiri, what is wrong?" Ao'nung sighed, relaxing his posture and tone while the girl only continued to glare, though softer this time as she began to pout at the man. Clearly having not forgotten what she had learned the night before.
"Gah! Speak already! I will go down with you, but I refuse to be guilt-tripped again!" Ao'nung hissed, slapping the water so it would splash in the younger's face.
"I hear a heartbeat. It is not Eywa's. Ao'nung, it sounds so desperate, so frantic. Not like yesterday. Yesterday it was calm, steady, and gentle. Today, it is fearful. I'm worried, so please!" Kiri begged, once again making a pleading face while the man splashed her face again before diving below, waiting only for a moment for Kiri to catch up to him as they both connected to the tree.
Just as before, warmth and a bright light surrounded them, forcing away the slight chill from the waters as they once again stood in the forest, humidity already making their skin dewy as they both looked around for only a moment.
"It's... It's gone... I don't understand." Kiri breathed, clutching the satchel at her side while Ao'nung looked around the jungle curiously, the once overwhelming chatter and constant noise from the day previous was gone, leaving only an irking silence.
And for the first time in his life, he dearly wished there was noise.
"Maybe it is because-." Though before the man could finish his thought, the sudden drumming began.
Loudly it pounded around them, practically shaking them as they both began to look around frantically for where it was coming from.
Fear, that is what could be translated from such a frantic and desperate symphony. All Ao'nung could hear were the war drums, the same drumming beat that had once pounded against his chest amid a battle with the sky people. When he had been on the path of vengeance when he thought the only way to end it all, the only way to make sure that they all paid for their sins.
Was in blood.
But at the same time, it was more than fear. It was the desperate urge to protect. He knew it well, the urge to protect his clan, his sisters, and his family. This was the symphony of someone who could only think of protecting.
But the last thing he expected to hear in such a loud rhythm, was calmness. The serenity of knowing, as if there was an already predetermined ending that was known. As if the approaching ending was calm. As if the slow death of such a fearful symphony could ever be calm.
But then it clicked, why Kiri had been so frantic before. The rhythm, the beat of this mighty and undetermined symphony was dying. That calmness was creeping closer, and it felt so wrong. There should never be such calmness in the precedents of death.
"We need to go now!" Kiri shouted desperately, grabbing the hunter's hand and dragging him behind her as she began to run through the forest, jumping over logs and using the trees around her to boost her speed, all the while Ao'nung followed behind with heavy footsteps, listening as closely as possible so he could hear every beat of that symphony.
He did everything in his power to control his breathing, so nothing could be heard over that drumming. He needed to hear the end, he needed to know if such fear, such franticness, such desperation could ever end calmly.
Though as they both cleared through the large brush, they were then standing on the trunks of a large tree. Its roots both under the soil and above it. But in front of them, there was a large hole dug at the roots, flowers, leaves, and other flora were thrown in the hole.
Though by the way Kiri's expression only fell further, and the drumming only grew more frantic, and yet slowly dwindling at the same time, Ao'nung knew that this meant something. He just wished he knew.
Slowly, the girl opened the satchel, pulling out the Ionar and the dagger. And Ao'nung realized. Just the same as they returned their own to the sea, to rejoin Eywa. The Omaticaya returned their own to the earth, to Eywa.
A part of him wanted to grab the items, to pray that the drumming around them would soften, so that he may hear the soothing rhythm that Kiri had spoken of. But he held back, this was Eywa's plan, wasn't it?
Gently, Kiri knelt and placed the items in the hole among the flowers and leaves, tears welling up in her eyes before she wiped them away as she backed away. Though as she raised her hands to the tree, a small wood-sprite floated into her open palms before gliding into the hole.
And just as it landed, the hole closed on its own, and the drumming silenced.
All was still, most would call it peaceful, and calm.
But Ao'nung could only call it deafening, and he was disheartened to know that the peace at the end of that symphony was not to be understood by anyone else.
And once again, he wished for any sort of noise.
Though as Kiri cried softly, he looked to his side at the girl, kneeling at her side to hold her. She did not speak, nor look at him. But the reassurance and gratitude were understood without words.
But as he closed his eyes, and willed away the sting in his eyes that he knew to be his own tears, he felt the sudden warmth around him once again as the bright light shined from afar.
And once again, they were back in Doctor Grace's lab.
"Mother..." Kiri breathed, standing from the ground as Ao'nung followed suit, the girl running to the woman who held her arms open for her daughter.
"I am so proud of you, my darling. And I am so sorry." Grace spoke gently, petting the girl's head as she cried.
And if Grace saw the few tears that broke through the Metkayina's borders, only to be quickly wiped away. She did not speak of it.
"I promise, this will all be worth it. There is only one more thing for you two to do." Grace stated urgently, catching her daughter's attention as Kiri pulled herself away from the older woman and went back to standing at Ao'nung's side, placing a hand on the man's shoulder as she smiled at him reassuringly.
Though Ao'nung could not meet her eyes, nor match her expression as he stared down the woman in front of him.
One more thing?
And it would all be worth it?
That seemed unlikely. No, it seemed impossible.
He had to give up Neteyam for a second time. He had to watch Kiri cry at another funeral for her brother. He had to break his promise.
Nothing could be worth that, not to him at least.
"What is it." Ao'nung practically growled, something deep within him telling him that whatever the final task Eywa had for them, would not be one he would enjoy.
"It is the final thing you must return by eclipse tomorrow." Grace began, though Ao'nung shouted in exasperation before she could finish.
"By eclipse?! Tomorrow is the final day of the festival! I feel as though you are trying to get us caught! Tsireya, Lo'ak, Rotxo, and most likely everyone else, now knows that we've been sneaking away! What more do you expect from us?!" Ao'nung shouted, his ears twitching quickly at his exasperation. Though Kiri only reached forward and placed a hand on his shoulder once more.
"Ao'nung! It is the final thing! We are doing this for a reason!" Kiri tried to reason with the older, though the man only shook her hand off as he shook his head, sneering at the idea of having to do anything like that again.
"Reason?! We have been given no reason! All you have promised is that it will be worth it! And yet you have not let us decide if we deem it as worth it!" Ao'nung continued angrily, glaring heatedly at the Omaticaya who only smiled at him sadly, her posture calm as she kept her hands folded in front of her. A display she was not a threat.
Ao'nung never once would think she was a threat, besides there was not much he could do to her here. She was already dead.
Not to mention he would never dare dishonor Eywa in such a way by showing violence. His mother would have his hide if he ever dared to show such disrespect.
Sighing heavily, he forced his breathing to even out, forcing himself to go passive as he blankly stared at the woman before him. He relaxed his posture and crossed his arms over his chest. "What is this final thing?" Ao'nung questioned tiredly, Kiri nodding to him before turning to face her mother once again.
"A woven neckpiece with beads woven into the strands with a seashell at its center. That is the final thing you must return here." Grace stated, only sparing a moment to look at Ao'nung before turning her focus to her confused daughter.
"What? Where do we get that? Mother, what significance does that hold?" Kiri questioned curiously, stepping forward to get closer to her mother. Though behind her, Ao'nung stayed silent. His head bowed as his fists clenched at his sides.
"Do not worry, I know you will find it. But for now, you must go back. And remember, you must return by eclipse tomorrow." Grace reminded urgently, stepping forward to meet her daughter halfway as she took her hands into her own, squeezing reassuringly.
"What? Mother wait, what do-." Though before she could finish, their eyes opened and they were once again underwater, looking around she saw that Ao'nung was not at her side.
Quickly, she swam up to the surface, only to find the man mounted on his skimwing. "Ao'nung?" Kiri called gently, clicking her tongue to call her Ilu as the creature chirped happily back at her, allowing the girl to climb onto its back as she looked at the hunter questioningly.
"Let's head back, we're no doubt going to get some questions," Ao'nung ordered while Kiri continued to watch him with a sense of curiosity.
"Ao'nung, do you know what my mother is talking about?" The girl questioned, though Ao'nung stayed silent as he clicked his tongue in a silent order for his skimwing to continue out of the cove, Kiri following close behind.
"Ao'nung?" Kiri asked once again, bringing her Ilu to his side while the man only continued to look forward with that same distant expression that she still could not understand.
So, defeatedly, she looked back forward and copied the older when he ordered his skimwing to speed back to the village, Kiri's Ilu following close behind despite the waves that crashed against them.
Though unbeknownst to her, there was only one thing Ao'nung could think of.
How could Eywa be so cruel?