like memories of dying days | avatar

stuck on my mind

Lo'ak doesn't think he'll ever forget the agonising gasp of pain his brother had let out after his father ordered him to press down on the gaping hole on his chest. He'll never forget how his final moments in his life were full of pain, or the way he was looking at him with wide, terrified eyes. The sound of his struggle as he tried fighting death would forever ring in his head, haunting him.

He hated how grieving has gotten easier over time. He hated how sometimes he can live his life amongst his new clan so normally, and allow himself to forget the pain his brother had endured to ensure the fact that he could be alive today. He despised the unfairness in how he outlasted his older brother. Lo'ak despised the cruel irony that had allowed him to live a longer life than Neteyam ever could. It was a bitter slap in the face - a bitter realisation for everyone to just understand everything better, and that wake up call had come with the cost of Neteyam's life.

Payakan helped carry them all back to Awa'atlu, bringing back the shock of Neteyam's dead form with them. Ao'nung and Rotxo, who had gotten close to Neteyam in one way or another, were the first to approach. Utter shock was all Lo'ak recalled on their faces.

Kiri cried after the funeral. She wasn't allowed to touch Neteyam one last time during the funeral, and she wouldn't be able to see him in the spirit tree. All Kiri could do was wait for her time until she could see him again.

Ao'nung had formally apologised to Lo'ak. Lo'ak didn't point out the tear streaks that painted the Metkayina's face.

Ronal and his mother had started anew. The Tsahik had offered his mother an apology, and had formally apologised to his father as well. They came to the conclusion that the Sky People were planning on raiding the Metkayina and killing Tulkun either way. Whether or not his father had been there did not affect their decision.

Neteyam would have been 21 in a week's time, but he never got to live until then. Lo'ak has now lived longer than his older brother by almost 3 years. The date seems to affect everyone now. Tsireya has kept some of Neteyam's beads on a string on her loincloth. Lo'ak hasn't taken Neteyam's armband off his own arm since he had returned to Eywa.

Lo'ak sat at the beach where they used to learn how to ride Ilu, back when Neteyam was here. Tsireya sat next to him, her head rested on her shoulder. He had his arm wrapped around her, moving them in soothing up and down motions. It was just before sunset, and the only thing that accompanied them on the beach was a warm breeze, blowing as if to comfort them.

"It never gets easier." Tsireya whispered. Lo'ak simply hummed in acknowledgement. Silence followed for a while before Lo'ak broke it again.

"And even when it does, it just feels wrong." He confessed, breathing slowly, "Why should I live when my brother does not?"

He felt Tsireya take a deep breath next to him before she pushed herself off his shoulder. She turned to look at him, her hands finding a spot to rest on his chest. "Everything happens in Eywa's will." She reassured him, "He would want you to continue living for him, not spend the rest of your years in perpetual grief."

Lo'ak cursed to himself as he felt the sting of tears welling up in his eyes. He spent so much of his time pretending that Neteyam is just out hunting, and that one day he will return with that smile of his and ruffle his hair. But sometimes reality just slaps him across the face. It was a pill of reality that Lo'ak refused to swallow.

Neteyam is waiting for him with Eywa. Lo'ak has to wait for his time to see him again.

"Oh, Lo'ak..." Tsireya moved her hands to gently wipe away a tear that made its way down Lo'ak's face, tears beginning to glister in her own eyes, mirroring Lo'ak's. Her hands were soft on his face, offering him something to ground himself with.