Not a Soldier Yet |Ao'nung x Neteyam|

9. Until Blood is Drawn

Neteyam's surprise did not go unnoticed by the Metcayina male. Without further warning that a cruel stare, Ulro began soaring through the water, dragging Neteyam with him. The dark blue na'vi grasped whetever he could find, shoulder aching from the rough handling, lungs burning from the lack of air. The tsurak lifted from the water, bringing Neteyam above the surface with it. Ulro's grip slipped a little, but he held on tight, dragging Neteyam towards some rocks. There, he threw the Omaticaya down roughly, not caring if he left visible marks on the boy's skin.

Ulro was hunting for a reaction, anything to show that he was stronger one out of the two. Neteyam refused to let that happen. Not this time. He did not have any weapons with his, but he was his father's son. Jumping to his feet, Neteyam did not wait for Ulro to fully dismount the tsurak.

The Metcayina stumbled back, slipping and plummeting into the water.

Neteyam stayed atop the rock, balanced. He eyed the tsurak, uneasy, but the creature did not attack him, not unless instructed to do so. Ulro, thankfully, did not seem to think about that as he emerged from the water, enraged. Neteyam did not flee, all his pent up frustration coming to the surface; his expression remained emotionless, he did not show his tormentor what he was feeling inside. Ulro lunged for Neteyam - in that moment, Neteyam realized his mistake - Ulro had been training all his life to become a warrior. Unlike his younger bullies, Ulro knew how to fight.

Neteyam swallowed, trying his best to stay standing as Ulro lunged for him, but the rock under his bare feet was wet from the ocean lapping at its surface. The two na'vi tumbled down. Neteyam's bare back slammed against the rock, Ulro's weight added to his own. For a second, his vision went white and he saw stars. Ulro was hissing loudly, shoulders tense and ears folded back. His pale blue eyes filled with rage.

The world went silent.

Neteyam knew that rage. It was the exact same wild flame that was burning in him when his father told him they had to flee their home. Only. unlike Neteyan, Ulro did not hold back and his flame spread into a destructive forest fire. Neteyam saw the other na'vi reach for the small knife strapped to his side and wiggled free, standing, back raw and bleeding. The Omaticaya hissed - something he did not usually do - and kicked Ulro's stomach with all his might. Neteyam let out a loud call into the silence of the night, disturbing the calm waters and serene winds; he called for his ikran. Ulro did not know what his yell had meant; slightly winded, he made a move to grab his knife again only for his hand to be kicked aout of the way. Neteyam grabbed the taller male by his slanted shoulders and kneed him in the stomach; hearing Ulro groan in pain.

Ulro was stronger; he grabbed Neteyam by his queue, like he always did, and yanked him down, forcing him to kneel. Finally, his knife was in his hand. Ulro did not waste a breath, pressing the blade to Neteyam's throat just lightly enough to not harm the skin.

Neteyam's knees ached against the ground, likely bruised by his fall. There was a searing pain at the base of his scalp where Ulro had pulled on his queue.

Neteyam may not have been a true soldier yet, but he fought like one; refusing to give up, he grabbed the hand holding his braid, trying to pry the fingers loose.

Ulro smirked, cruelty as plain as day on his youthful features. "I have got to admit, " he muttered, as if bored. "you don't fight like a girl, despite looking just like one."

Neteyam refused to show emotion, despite the words causing a searing pain in his heart.

"Want to know what the boys in the village say about you?" Neteyam had never heard a voice so full of malicious intent. He winced slightly at a particularly harsh pull on his queue. "They think you're easy."

"Shut the hell up, fish fingers-" Neteyam's head snapped backwards, his throat exposed, knife drawing the first thin drop of blood.

"I don't think I want to," Ulro hummed, acting nonchalant. "You're gonna listen to me, or I'll ruin your pretty little face, forest freak."

Neteyam was forced to listen to all the vile things Ulro spoke about him; the Metcayina spoke of such disgusting acts of violence, that Neteyam could not help the tears that burned his eyes, threatening to fall. The night air was cold. Ulro's tsurak let out a malicious noise as its owner slowly ran the knife down Neteyam's chest, leaving a straight, thin line of red in its wake.

"I don't think you're even good for that though." Ulro shrugged causally, as if discussing the weather. "You're lucky I was the one who found you. You know, we saw you swimming away, all alone and made a bet to see who would catch you first. We waited until none of us could see you anymore of course."

Neteyam closed his eyes; not sure what to make of the situation - he understood what the other male was implying, but he did not want to believe it.

His ears twitched, noticing the sound of flapping wings. His ikran had heard his call.

A call for help.

The large winged creature swooped down, knocking Ulro away, the knife falling from his hand and dropping into the water. While Ulro was getting back up from the ground, his tsirak lunged for Neteyam, teeth grazing the side of his arm. Neteyam threw himself into the water, out of the way of the beast, grasping at his bleeding wound, a distressed cry leaving his lips, sending bubbles flying from his mouth as he sank underwater.

Neteyam found peace in the violence of the ocean. He resurfaced and called for his ikran. He watched Ulro mount his tsurak and lunge for the smaller male viciously. Neteyam's ikran was faster, slamming into the tsurak's side roughly, knocking Ulro off.

The Metcayina flew into the water, startled and the tsurak turned to snap its jaw at its attacker, but it was too slow. The ikran was already right above Neteyam, close enough that Neteyam could reach up and mount it; bleeding and angry, the na'vi made the connection with his companion and together they flew high into the sky, leaving a furious Ulro in the water, trying to calm his enraged war beast.

Neteyam guided his ikran to take him back to the shore, panting lightly and examining his arm gingerly.

The first golden rays of sunlight began to reach across the sky. Neteyam winced, rubbing his head - worry ate away at his heart. Under him, he noticed Ulro's friends in the water, staring right up at him, confusion on their faces. Neteyam sneered, tail curling around his own waist protectively. Once he reached the shore, he hurried to a spot he knew nobody would find him and fell to his knees. He was hidden by large rocks and plants. His breath hitched and he clenched his eyes shut in utter despair. The cut running down his chest stung, but his back and arm felt like they were on fire, fueled by gasoline.

Unable to stop them, large, pearldrop tears fell from his eyes, hardening the sand under his feet. He heard his ikran coo a little ways away, hopping around in distress at Neteyam's behaviour.

Neteyam sat back, stretching his legs in front of him. He stared into his upturned palms, brows furrowing, chest heaving, wondering what he did to deserve this.