invisible string ↝ ao'nung

XI ; I Guess

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞
It's been you and me
Since before I was me
Without you, I don't yet know
Quite how to live
𓆝 𓆟 𓆞

One life is taken, another is given. The Na'vi knew this force as the balance of life. The Great Mother would bring a soul to be with her, and in return she would gift a new soul.
Just four eclipses after Neteyam's funeral, the Tsahík of the Metkayina clan, Ronal, went into labour. Her hard work rewarded her with a healthy baby girl. Suddenly, the grief stricken village of Awa'atlu was turned into a haven of hope and happiness. The child was a reassurance, a sign that the Great Mother was still watching over them, lovingly and with great pride.

But not all villagers were celebrating. The Sully family, newly accepted as Metkayina, were still suffering from the loss of battle. Their firstborn son, their eldest brother, his presence was still missing in their lives. The child born from their fruitful work was not seen as a gift, but as confirmation that Neteyam was truly gone. And he wasn't coming back.

Sylwana was an empty shell who she used to be; the reef she had once felt was finally welcoming her seemed to be mocking her. The waves sounded like Neteyams laugh, the ilu chirps reminding her of riding them with her brother, and the marui had the distant, lingering smell of him, though if Sylwana tried to seek it out it slipped away; like it was never there in the first place.
The news of Ronal's birth spread through the village quickly. There was to be a celebration in several days, when Ronal was well enough to attend. At this celebration, the baby would be named and accepted as a child of the clan. Sylwana was going to attend, of course she was happy that Ronal had a successful birth and a healthy baby girl. And she had just recently been accepted as Metkayina, so she couldn't not show up. On the day of the celebration, early in the morning, she left the marui, calling her ilu as quietly as she could and making the journey to the Spirit Tree. Only a few early risers were up, and some cast her looks of sympathy. She ignored them; she hated feeling weak.

She also did not want them to notice that she was without a diving partner, which was crucial to any Na'vi visiting the Spirit Tree, since it was underwater. Though the Tree gives oxygen when bonded to it, sometimes the memory visited is too much and swimming to the surface is a struggle. She did not care. She even thought it a mercy if she drowned. Ever since that night, every breath was painful. Her eyes constantly swam in a sea of her own tears, and no matter how much she wept there was always more lingering. Her throat was swollen from her constant crying, and she feared sleep, for when she fell into its clutches she was haunted by nightmares of Sky People and Neteyam looking in her eyes as the life slowly faded from his face.

She had to let go if she was hoping to avoid breaking down at the celebration later that night.
She was almost there, out of reach of the village, on her way to solitude and seeing her other half again when her ears registered a distant shouting. That was fine, she'd just ignore it. She dove back into the water, but when she resurfaced, she jumped to see Ao'nung sitting atop his ilu and staring at her. She had not seen him since that night, and she blushed when she remembered how he'd held her. "Sylwana," he panted, "are you going to the Spirit Tree?" She avoided his eyes. "No," she lied, as casually as she could, "I'm getting breakfast." He eyed her. "Liar," was all he said. "You know you have to have a diving partner. It is too dangerous." His words made her recall how he'd pleaded with her not to return to the demon ship.
Sylwana, it is too dangerous.
I have to.
"I will come with you," he offered, though it sounded less like a suggestion and more like a demand. "No, I can go on my own," she snapped. "I'm not weak."
"I never said that," Ao'nung sounded gentler now. "I know you are not weak. But you need a diving partner." Sylwana hesitated. This was the first time she'd been alone with Ao'nung since Neteyam's funeral. "Fine," she muttered, and he visibly perked up. "But I will not need your help." He grinned, following after her when she took off. "I'm sure you will not, tsamsiyu!"