𝐃𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐆

𝟭𝟮. 𝗲𝘆𝗲𝘀 𝗳𝘂𝗹𝗹 𝗼𝗳 𝘀𝘁𝗮𝗿𝘀

The break of dawn cast a frail golden light over the desolate sands. The fresh flower petals that you spent ages scattering across the beaches floated across the shallow waters before you, wilted and stomped on after a night of dance. A low murmur of voices echoed across the shoreline from the marui in the center of the village where the mother tree's roots were the thickest and blocked out most of the daylight. It was a place where funeral rites were read, mating ceremonies were conducted, and battles were plotted.

On today of all days, everyone knew to stay as far away from that place as possible.

Shallow wooden boats were strung up against the longest docks, bobbing and scraping against each other, creating a string of song in the ripples of low tide. They all bore the different symbols of the neighboring villages and clans. Of the several, you yourself could only recognize a handful. There were no less than fifty small communities within a day's journey of your village, and yet there were twice as many people here today—warriors, wisemen, and Oloe'ktan alike. Many honorable men had paddled to your shores early this morning to join your father in meeting.

Concern was an itch that you could neither find nor satisfy. Neither of your parents would spare any details about the nature of this gathering, only that Jake'sully had been invited to attend, and although Neteyam was a man in his own right and son of the honorable Oloe'ktan of the Ometikaya, he alongside Ao'nung were strictly forbidden from stepping foot on that beach until long after sunset. Orders from the father always seemed to overrule the law of the clan.

Instead, the Sully children had been left in your care.

You and Kiri sat opposite each other with a low fire crackling above the netted floor between you. It came to your attention recently that Jake had no idea what he was doing with the food that he caught during his hunts and that the children had been subjected to the worst food imaginable during these past months. At the news that you would be helping Kiri prepare the evening meal, relieved sighs echoed throughout the marui.

The smell of well-seasoned, unburnt food crackling over the red embers soon filled the room. Tuk lay in a beam of afternoon sun near the door, snoring occasionally as she napped, tail twitching as her dreams carried her far from the shores of Awa'atlu. You hadn't heard from the boys since they politely approached you and asked to spend the day with the rest of the village boys doing whatever it was that your brother and his friends conspired to do with their time—likely spying on their fathers' business through the knots in the wooden walls.

You wanted to tell them that they needn't ask your permission to run off and have fun, but you couldn't help but feel a swell of privilege in knowing that they cared so much about what you thought. You couldn't remember the last time that Tsireya double-checked with you before sneaking off into the woods with Lo'ak—or your brother for that matter.

"I had a dream about you last night."

Kiri spoke without looking up, too involved in stoking the coals that were slowly cooking the fish that Jake had caught for you in the early morning. You looked back from Tuk and finished folding a palm frond of spices before setting it aside for later. She didn't seem to find any excitement in her own admission, but your interest was piqued.

Ever since the ritual that pulled her from the arms of the great mother, you noticed a change in Kiri's behavior. Once solitary and independent, she now sought you out for company whenever possible. Your early morning meditations were no longer a private event, nor were your naps taken in the shade of your secret beach. If you hadn't known any better, you would have thought she was afraid of being left to simmer in her own thoughts.

Since you had no idea of knowing what was said between her and Eywa, nor the drive to find out, you could only content yourself with knowing that somehow, your presence seemed to calm the roaring waters in her mind.