Eywa'itan

1 | Lost

Before "they" came, he could vaguely remember a time of great happiness.

"Mama!" He would babble out to his mom. His small arms and stubby legs waddled their way to her, and she held him carefully. Golden eyes and a wide smile, he remembered them being joyful when they saw him. Songs were sung, and his small heart felt full surrounded by love.

The Oaretirea Clan were a people of spirit and healing. Many others from other clans would seek them out, as the lands they watched over were sacred ground. The Great Mother's heartbeat could be heard clearly, and wounds of the soul and body healed in its presence.

People sometimes called his mom "Tsahìk" in a playful gesture. She was learning to be one, a tsakarem at the time. He was only two years old then, so he didn't know of its importance very well.

He was a vibrant child, but oftentimes he would wander far from home. His mother would always indulge him when he followed the heartbeat. His sense of hearing and touch was different than others. Stronger. There was a heartbeat within the trees that beat in rhythm with their songs, a voice on the wind that was there, yet not.

Enveloping the youth was a sense of wonder his small mind latched on to.

She called the heartbeat "Great Mother", and always seemed so happy when he'd babble to her about his latest adventures. Their actual Tsahìk, Nihona, was intrigued by him. When he didn't see his mother, he was often with her, and she'd tell him stories.

Those days were simple, happy days.

But all of it changed when the winds brought a strange scent. Shiny things that didn't fit the forests barreled through his home. There was something inside of them, small, speaking a language he didn't know. He was too young to know much, but he knew enough to think they shouldn't be there.

Something was off about them, something was wrong. The voice on the wind didn't like them. The heartbeat in the trees was erratic and alarmed. They were doing something bad. His mom felt it too and begged the other in so many words he didn't know to get away.

Nihona told them to fight, to save their land, and the warriors listened. The aliens had come too close to their land, harming it, so they got their arrows, bows, and spears to fight instead. Even if his young mother was a tsakarem, she was only learning. No one would pay heed to her words as orders, even if they knew of her ability to 'listen'.

A swelling roar on the wind made his ears hurt. His mom ran, hearing it too and understanding it better than him. The ground shook, and the shiny things let off horrible flashes of light. She held him close as Great Mother, the heartbeat in the trees, cried silently.

With each flash, someone fell, never moving again. Everything burned as he heard the war cries of their people, and witnessed the unfortunate fate that followed them.

"Mama, what this?" He cried, "They hurting! They hurting everyone!" He couldn't understand why there was so much pain and suffering. His favorite trees were falling, his home was burning, and his family was dying.

What was this?

Then the monsters poured something awful onto the ground. The liquid scorched the life from everything it touched, burning the air he breathed. It was a toxic, horribly displaced scent that shouldn't have been present.

"Mama, the monsters are coming!"

The many voices on the wind were bellowing, urgent, and heartbroken. His mama had him in her arms, whispering soothing words. "It's okay, baby, Mother's here. Mama will protect you."