🔶️♤ Avatar: Fire and Ashes ♤🔶️

🔸️Chapter 2🔸️

Just when he thought the load was getting the tiniest ounce lighter, it doubled down again as if it hadn't ever left. It felt like a

The wound was being ripped open again, revealing the tender, sore flesh below.

For a moment- actually, not just a moment, for quite a damn long time. He had allowed himself to think: maybe it won't hurt forever. Maybe, one day, he'll look back on it and, yes, he'll feel sad - he'll always feel sad about it, but-

Maybe it'll lessen a little? Maybe it will go from overwhelmingly suffocating and unbearable to a still-there-but-not-as-bad ache in his heart.

He was foolish to hope.

Lo'ak took his time with it, shuffling his stride as if he had all the time in the world. He kept his eyes on the sand, like it was the most fascinating specimen he's ever seen- to tell the truth, he hoped he'd be too preoccupied staring at it that he'd "accidentally" walk in the wrong direction.

Eventually, he had to turn and face the music. He'd been circling around it for the past few minutes. Literally, walking in misshaped circles around the general area.

He halted in his tracks and turned to face it full on. He drew a deep breath of air into his lungs, ignoring the tingly feeling of anxiety as it flitted and fluttered about in his stomach. He could do this, they are his family, after all. He lives with them every day- sees them, eats with them, converses and plays with them. This should be as mundane as breathing by now.

So why is he so scared?

The longer he stands there, the more his confidence begins to wane. His legs turn to jelly and he fears he'll just collapse into a heap of cowardice if he even dares to move an inch. He didn't even realize his hands were shaking until he clasped them together, feeling the tremors quaking beneath his skin.

He takes - yet another - deep breath, closes his eyes. I can do this, he reaffirms himself, willing his confidence levels to rise back up. He opens his eyes. Big mistake. The outline of his family's marui seems to grow in size and height, menacingly towering over him. He feels small- tiny and insignificant. He can't go in there, not when it's waiting to consume him.

He took a stumbling step back, panic flared in his belly. No... no, no, no, he can't do this. Its too painful, too risky. Sure, it's already been a year, but he doesn't want to go back there. To that dark, dark place. Back into the shadows.

But he'll have to soon enough.

He can't hide from his memory forever. Neteyam is everywhere. In everything. In the shade of the trees; down by the shore, in the splash of the shallow waves; in the curve of his mother's smile; as an actor in the memories of his old home. He sees him in the glint of his blade- he taught him to carve it; he sees him in the corner of the family marui- he had slept there before the shooting; he saw him in the ripples of the forest stream- where he first learned to fish.

His brother's memory is inevitable. He can't live in fear of it forever. And his parents are probably waiting for him inside.

He forces the anxious thoughts down before taking the first step. Then another. Then five more.

Before he knows it, he's standing in the doorway, staring into the void.

Its so... quiet. Despite the presence of five Na'vi and a human in the marui, not a sound permeates the thickened atmosphere. Somber expressions cloud their faces. The thick smell of paint spoils the air. Tuk sits on the floor, Neytiri working thick lines of white paint onto her blue skin. Sadness shines in their eyes. Jake sits a little way off, tying off some loose-ended ropes- his expression is empty, lost. Spider sits alone off in a corner, watching all the happenings go by.