Recombinant Bridgehead

Decision

Hundreds of fluttering eyes settled upon Olo'eyktan Zayksuli standing above on a branch while clutching the sacred three-metre-long trumpet that had broken the spell of their madness. Neytiri kept her posture low as she absorbed every movement of her mate as he prepared to speak. |"Listen to me! You wanted to hold council before our tsahìk's return. So you leave me no choice but to make a decision without her. Since you are too afraid to return to Txurseng, then we will move tonight! We will journey to the Tree of Souls to encamp with our Great Mother. There, we will seek Her guidance for a new home. Does anyone object to this plan?"|

At first, it was silence, but then the voices came, and they were in shared agreement. The fears were quieted, and doubts were ceased. A decision had come at last.

|"Call for your mounts. We make the transition now."|

|"What of the Skypeople?"|

|"They will remain at Txurseng until a way is found. I do not forget them."|

And so, once again, the children sought the comforting arms of their Mother after their lives had been thrown into upheaval, seeking the stability and warmth of Her always-open home.

The procession was solemn on their journey. No songs were sung by the Omatikaya so as to not make light of the Anurai's suffering, for they were sympathetic about the loss of the boneyard. It was a famous site to all forest Na'vi—an archaeoastronomical art museum consisting of unique knowledge regarding both the inner world of life and the outer world above their heads. Just as the clans felt Hometree's demise, this event, too, would scar their memory.

The humans remained, as Jake said, in the confines of Sully's Grotto, who were in the dark about the unfolding events below, only for the Omatikaya to return and say they were moving out. Like an offended lover, The People made them aware, through brevity, of all that took place and the immutable decision they had reached. The Skypeople were knocked into a dreamlike state as they watched the reality unfold, many just dumbly standing around while others were completely unaware until they chanced to step out of their field cabins. Norman assured them that Jake wasn't about to leave them hanging dry and that this was only a temporary solution to hopefully lower tensions, but his assurances were not met favourably, for the humans felt utterly abandoned, and when the last of the Omatikaya left, it was hard for the olo'eyktan of the Dreamwalkers not to feel the same way.

In the cold, unpleasant hours alone inside High Camp, the humans awaited Jake, as he had promised to come the moment his people were relocated. They sat around the mouth of the cave, loitering on the stoop like evicted tenants.

"What do we even do? We can't even escape this rock without the help of their ikrans."

"Told you. They don't even see us."

"This is it," Nagata murmured; not even a drink would help him now.

"Are we really going to die?"

Norman the Dreamwalker stood by his ikran, petting the loyal creature solemnly as he listened to his clan ache. "No. We're not going to die. When Jake returns, he'll tell us his plan."

Max was sitting with his arms folded over his knees and gazed at his colleague reflectively. "Norm?" The avatar looked over at him. "This isn't fair to us."

"Jake's doing all he can. He's taking care of two people."

Max wasn't having it; he wasn't yelling, but his tone was fed up. "We want to hear your decision, Norman. What are you going to do for us?"

The leader was quiet as he saw into every set of despondent eyes.

"Please help us, Norm," Charity pleaded. "We're handicapped. The Omatikaya don't understand that."