Not a Soldier Yet |Ao'nung x Neteyam|

26.A Mother's Rage

Neteyam had no idea where his mother was going; he could not calm his curiosity and followed her, making sure to stay far back enough that she did not notice him. She was heading towards the forest behind the homes of the Metcayina.

"Demon, what were you doing lurking around outside our home?" Neytiri hissed into the night.

Neteyam's breathing fastened; he climbed up into a taller tree, hidden behind its large leaves. His heart was beating wildly against his chest. He was scared. The young na'vi could barely see his mother. She was very obviously talking to someone. Neteyam had an idea who it could be - in fact, he had three ideas. He hoped he was wrong. Even a sky person was better than who he assumed was standing in front of his mother.

Neteyam could not tell if the stranger answered his mother's question. He did not hear a reply. The Omaticaya could barely hear his own mother's voice; the wind drowning them out. "Which one are you, demon child?"

Neteyam recognized Tsuizorì's laugh as the Metcayina finally stepped into view. He had been stripped off his traditional warrior clothing. Tsuizorì wore nothing but a plain brown loincloth. "It doesn't matter who I am. All you need to know is that I have come for revenge."

"Revenge for what?" Neytiri shouted into the night, startling Neteyam. He had never heard her mother sound so angry before. "It is I who should take revenge on you for what you have done to my son."

Neteyam heard the banished Metcayina male hiss at his mother. Tsuizorì had a black eye and a large gasp across his chest. Toruk Makto had found him first.
"Your stupid mate really hurt me." Tsuizorì sauntered over to Neytiri, who drew her knife, hissing back at the male. "I wanted to make him pay for all of the trouble that he caused me. A low-life little sky person should not be here."

"He did nothing to you that you did not deserve," Neytiri replied sharply. "You think yourself so great, demon boy, but without your empty threats, you are nothing."

"Now you see, I don't agree with you," Tsuizorì laughed wickedly, drawing his own knife. "Your little freak of a son looked like he received only empty threats?"

"I don't need you to agree with me," Neytiri snapped viciously, her tail swishing behind her wildly. "I can pierce your heart with this knife either way. Do not speak of my son. You do not deserve to say his name."

Neteyam saw as Tsuizorì tightened his grip on his knife - a knife he was not supposed to have, since he was stripped off everything he owned - and take a step towards Neytiri. "Oh, I didn't say his name. I don't even care what it is, jungle bitch. He does not deserve to be here-"

Neytiri was faster, she jumped high with the aid of the tree branches around the two of them and swiped her knife across the male's chest in the opposite direction as Jake had; Tsuizorì's wounds crossed each other, meeting in the middle of his chest.
"He is deserving of much more than you ever will be, lowlife scum."

The Metcayina lunged for Neytiri, enraged by her words.
"Shut your mouth!" He roared, aiming for her face with his blade. Neytiri jumped out of the way, baring her fangs, her fury far outnumbering Tsuizorì's.

"Where are the others?" Neytiri hissed. "Have they abandoned you the moment you were banished?"

"What does it matter to you? You will die here." The male lunged for Neytiri's throat, but stopped short in his tracks, a beautiful thin arrow neatly piercing his heart.

Neteyam was no stranger to violence; he watched Tsuizorì fall to the ground, eyes wide and unseeing. He had seen death more times than he wanted to. As a leader's son in a time of war, peace was not an option; neither was innocence. Neytiri's eyes snapped towards his direction; she recognized his arrows. Neteyam was far, it took his mother a few moments to reach him.
"Neteyam?" She whispered, touching his face. "My Neteyam, why are you here?"

"I shot him, mum," he whispered, mouth going dry. He hated the smell of death much more than the way it looked.

Neytiri cuddled him close to her chest, soothing him as loud sobs broke through his throat - it was over - truly over. Tsuizorì could not torment the Omaticaya further.

"Let us go home my child," she whispered gently in his ear and let him go. She took his hand and began leading him away, leaving the arrow behind. Night had fallen a long time ago. The sky was beginning to brighten. Despite the most recent events, he was not at peace. He had not meant for things to go so far, so out of hand. He knew he committed no crime because the chief had allowed for this to happen. Yet somehow, he felt he had sinned. Back in the forest he had felt no remorse shooting his mother's attacker. He wondered why he felt like he had done something bad this time.

His most vicious tormentor had finally breathed his last breath; something still did not feel right. He had never met a being so cruel before. He knew that his mother and father had experienced much worse, and he felt he had no right to be upset. The air was cold around him as he slowly made his way home hand in hand with his mother.

Their home was silent; everybody was awake. Everybody knew. Both mother and son had taken their bows and arrows with them. Neteyam felt like his sanity was finally completely broke through, it was lying right in front of his feet, shattered into tiny pieces and he had no glue.

His sisters rushed to his side; neither of them were strangers to war. Neteyam could no longer bear skin contact and pushed them away. The only thing that he felt in that moment was numbness; it was loud and cruel and unforgiving. He prayed that he could get through this without losing his mind - or what was left of it anyway. That night - early morning - his mother put him to bed and lied down next to him; she held him close and sang the song of his song cord to him gently.