Now all grown up and living peacefully (with no more wars to chase after them), the Sully family returns to the reefs of Awa'atlu to visit their Metkayina fellows after three years.
The water clan is delighted to have them back and are determined t...
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—Reminisce—
THE SAND OF AWA'ATLU; is lustrous and warm, soft beneath the feet, calming the nerves and easing the brain. It was silky—an euphoric feeling driving up the body when it poured elegantly out of the hands, and into the pile beneath again. Building sand castles was fun. The light sounds it would emit when the air whooshed past, or when Neteyam rubbed it against his palms. Singing sand, he would call it. Awa'atlu's sand was different than his jungle home's sand.
"How long had it been since we last saw each other? Three years?" Neteyam asked, swaying in his hammock, his eyes up the ceiling of his Marui as he caressed the back of his five-year-old nephew.
Ao'nung polished his hammerhead shark tooth, which he had caught that midday while on a hunt. He would collect all sorts of shark teeth and shells, later wearing them as adornments. It was a hobby of his.
"Three years," He crooned, nostalgia lacing through his voice, as he pulled the string through his hammerhead tooth; a necklace.
They were twenty-five now, living under the large Marui both called their permanent home. Neteyam's family (apart from his younger brother Lo'ak) lived back in the rainforest, occasionally visiting Awa'atlu every two years, just to see how things were.
"All that time?" Rawao, Ao'nung's ten-year-old brother gasped. He was born shortly after the second war against the sky people, and after the Omatikaya's first departure from the reefs.
"Precisely," Ao'nung replied. He walked over to the steaming pot of fish, far back into the Marui, dishing three out for his brother and his nephews; Lolen and Tsumuiayn.
"Where's Lolen?" He asked Neteyam, sprawling out the dishes on the small table. Rawao beamed, biting his crisp fish with contentment—his stomach rumbling with joy.
"At the back," Neteyam said, referring to the spot Lolen would be dangling her feet from, submerged in the cool water, just like his sister, Kiri did when she was younger—her and Lolen's favorite spot.
Ao'nung went to her, advising her it was lunchtime, as Neteyam lightly shook the small boy laying curled on his chest, sleeping.
"Tsumuiayn...muiayn...wake up," He cooed. The boy stirred, his arms reaching as he hummed. His blue eyes slowly fluttered open with a pout adorning his lips. His brows creased with confusion as his eyes wandered.
"Time for lunch, little bud," Neteyam said, ruffling his short braids. Tsumuiayn blinked and climbed off his uncle's embrace, waddling toward the table, still half asleep, unaware of Rawao's presence.
"Wakey Wakey, top of the morning to you," Rawao greeted, grinning.
"Shut up, long face" Tsumuiayn murmured, picking at his fish. Rawao's ears dropped as Neteyam's ears perked up, his eyes enlarging with light amusement, though he masked it with sternness. It was comical; the boy truly resembled Lo'ak.
"Tsumuiayn, that's not how we talk to people," He said. The small boy peered at him, frowning. He slouched, his face pained with pity.
"What do we say?"
The Marui went quiet.
"Tsumuiayn, what do we say?" Neteyam repeated, his voice husky and full of danger.
"I'm sorry..." Tsumuiayn meeked, his eyes downcast and ears droopy as he nibbled his fish lightly. Rawao smiled. His cousin's dismay was one of his entertainments.
"We're back!" Lolen chirped. Ao'nung trailed from behind with a tender smile. His eyes abruptly met Neteyam's striking amber ones—the eyes he swooned over since day one—as his heartbeat raced to a different drum, a vigorous rhythm.
Neteyam pecked his lips, his slender fingers caressing Ao'nung's cheeks. He gaped, admiring the traditional tattoos that ran down half of Na'vi's face and onto his right forearm. The tattoos both matched.
Lolen stared, her chin resting on her palm. She wasn't hungry, but rather interested. She's heard of her uncles' story plenty, but never in full detail. "Uncle Ao'nung? Uncle Neteyam?" She called. The couple spun their heads to meet her curious amber gape.
"How'd you guys meet?" She asked with her puny small voice.
"You always ask this, Len," Ao'nung said, but couldn't contain the grin creeping up his face, as his small eyes glinted with nostalgia and enamor. "Learn like your brother, and eat up before father Lo'ak and mother Reya come to snatch you guys up," He added, glancing at Tsumuiayn's almost empty plate.
Lolen crossed her arms and shook her head. "Only if you tell me," She said. She was eager just as she was curious. She wanted to hear it from them, not summarized but authentically. The whole story.
Neteyam chortled. He grasped his mate's hand and sat them both upon the soft rug before the three children, who looked expectingly; their ears awaiting.
"It's a long handful story," Neteyam said. He paused, searching through the depths of his memory; his eyes flickering with something warm and nostalgic. "We start with me, being the mightier warrior, and your uncle Ao'nung falling behind..."
Ao'nung nudged his side, smiling playfully. "Nete, tell it as it is," He said.
Lolen chewed her fish slowly and attentively, just like Rawao. Tsumuiayn yawned, though his ears peeked with interest, his brows furrowing, as he was engaged.
"Where should I start?" Neteyam itched his head, a beaded braid falling over his face. He smiled lightly, and slouched forward, his downcast eyes looking at the wooden floor of his home. "It starts when your uncle and I—" He crooned.
The sea beneath their Marui seemed to rustle louder, as bits of sand flew like flakes around the air. The sky was adorned with colorful pastel hues, as the sun beamed brighter than usual. The tale starts in that same Awa'atlu, on the sand Neteyam loved vastly:
