𝗠𝗜𝗥𝗥𝗢𝗥𝗦 𝗔𝗡𝗗 𝗦𝗢𝗨𝗟𝗦 - 𝗻𝗲𝘁𝗲𝘆𝗮𝗺

𝗖𝗛𝗔𝗣𝗧𝗘𝗥 𝗩 ⸺ 𝘁𝗼 𝗹𝗲𝗮𝘃𝗲 𝗯𝗲𝗵𝗶𝗻𝗱.

┊ ┊ ┊ ┊
✯ ┊ ┊ ✯
★ ┊ ★
✯ ✯
★

THERE WAS NO denying the beauty of the Omaticaya's Tree of Souls. Soft pink branches turned orange by the raising run softly swinging in the morning breeze, casting their ominous light on the crowd assembled at the bottom. But this day seemed duller than the others, the scents of loss and sorrow floating in the air.

The Sullys, along with Amraë, were assembled on the steps of the promontory, slightly above the rest of the seated crowd. Before them, the Tsahik, Mo'at, was removing the traditional olo'eyktan mantel from around Jake's shoulders and placing it on the Na'vi standing before him. His name was Tarsem, if Amraë remembered correctly. As the leader of the Omaticaya was leaving, a new one was set to take his place.

Both Na'vi turned to each other, Tarsem raising his knife with a cry, before pounding his fist on Jake's chest, cutting the flesh open ever so slightly. A symbolic death: the leader must die so that the leader can be born. Jake's ears were turned down; he seemed to be holding back tears. With no further words and only a look exchanged with the new leader, he descended towards the crowd, which raised in perfect sync, then split in half. Neytiri followed, tears already glistening on her cheeks, and holding Tuk's hand.

Amraë joined Kiri behind them. For some strange reason, the tears did not come for her. Perhaps she already had spent all those she had stock during the past few days. The only possessions she had were her sister's satchel, in which she had the decryption machine guarding the chip, her sister's mask, and her weapons. Kiri had lent her a shawl for the journey. She was not leaving anything, nor anyone, behind.

In some egotistical way, she was glad that someone was finally sharing her pain. Of losing everything they knew. It's not the same, she reminded herself as the Omaticaya's faces blurred on their way to the ikran. They're together. You're alone.

She stopped as the end of the row. The ikran were waiting on the rocks surrounding the clearing where the Tree of Souls was. Every Sully headed for their own, and Amraë realized she had no idea with whom to go.

Someone brushed against her shoulder. Neteyam passed near her, then turned back a few steps later, seeming confused as though why she was just standing there.

"Are you coming or what?"

A strange, warm relief spread in Amraë's chest. As she followed Neteyam, she noticed that he was not crying either. She distractively wondered if he ever let himself show emotions. Maybe as first born, he thought his responsibility was to always carry himself — which was noble on his account, but only retarded an inevitable breakdown.

"You don't mind me riding with you?" she asked Neteyam as he patted his ikran.

He shook his head as he pulled out a shawl from one of the bags. "I like the company."