Wish You Were Dead

Chapter Three

Alyara

Two years before the humans return/Four years before the incident
Twelve and thirteen years old

Yesterday, Neteyam had gotten his first kill. The entire clan celebrated with him, and his family shared his kill for dinner. All that means for Alyara, however, is that she needs to catch up to him.

It's late at night and Alyara is getting ready for bed. Her grandfather, the last of her kin, is cleaning up his arrows. She is lying in the center of the hammock, while her grandfather sits toward the edge, facing away from her. This hammock was once shared by her entire family, but that number has dwindled over the years.

"You know what you have to do." He says to her.

She pauses, "Yes, Grandfather."

"Don't let that boy infested with demon blood succeed you. If he does, your father's death will be in vain. Do you understand?"

"Yes." She whispers. The painful memory of her father stabs her like a knife. He doesn't say another word, moving to lie down in the hammock, far away from her. She bites the inside of her cheek and turns to face away from him.

Alyara's father had died when the Home Tree had fallen--that was a year after Alyara had been born. Shortly after that, her mother died in the battle against the Sky People. Alyara was told she fought on the ground with the Olangi clan.

The only person left to care for her was her grandfather. He was in deep sorrow at the loss of his son and daughter-in-law. He had hope that Alyara would live up to be a great warrior like her parents, but she didn't inherit any of their skill. Without a hope for her future, At'ok(grandfather) secured her a position as the next Tsahik. Her advancement in skills was promising in her young age, so Mo'at agreed.

Since then, At'ok has been muttering off about the doom of the Omatikaya coming soon. In his eyes, their lives were in the hands of a wretched demon who murdered his son. He would never forgive Jake for that. But if there was anything he hated more than a demon, it was mixed blood: Neteyam, Kiri, Lo'ak, and Tuk.

Alyara was to never let Neteyam surpass her; according to her grandfather, she would have to lead the Omatikaya away from the demons. This is what he wants from her. This is what he expects of her.

She sticks low to the ground, crawling beneath the bushes with her sights dead on the yerik(hexapede). She inches forward. A stick breaks beneath her hand, sending the animal running. She groans and dashes from the bushes and into a small tree. She leaps across branches and the yerik just barely stays in her sights.

It takes a sharp left and she jumps out from the tree and after it. Although she can no longer see the animal, she sees the tracks left behind in its scurrying. Prints in the soft soil, broken twigs, and bashed bushes. She is on its tail in no time.

She scales up a near tree, choosing the air over the ground. Her bow is secured around her torso, and she removes it to notch an arrow on its string. The yerik's frantic glances calm and it returns to grazing on the vegetation.

Alyara draws her string back, pulling it as tight as she can, and she releases it as soon at the animal lifts its head. It falls to the ground with a thump, and she runs down to it.

She kneels beside the animal and unsheathes her knife, "Oel ngati kameie, ma tsmukan, ulte ngaru seiyi irayo. Ngari hu Eywa salew tirea, tokx 'ì'awn slu Na'viyä hapxì." She stabs its breathing hole, putting it out of its misery. It airs out its last whine before succumbing to death.

Alyara huffs a few breaths and removes her arrow from its neck. Her grandfather emerges from the brush, his eyes are dull and unamused. He had been watching over her hunt from afar.