When a seemingly lifeless boy is saved by a girl.
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Ma'vona was once a beloved member of the Kame'tire clan, known for their profound understanding of Pandora's flora and unparalleled healing skills. Their expertise was so great that they could heal...
♪ The Destruction of Home Tree by James Horner ♪ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ Chapter Seven: Into The Mist
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Various worst-case scenarios began to flood my mind, each more terrifying than the last, and I started to pray to Eywa that none of them would come true. The unknown gnawed at me like a shadow creeping closer, but I couldn't afford to give in to fear. Not now.
“We have to go,” Neteyam’s voice broke through the fog of my thoughts. His tone was resolute, leaving no room for hesitation as he swung onto Ayura’s back. In a swift motion, he extended his hand towards me, his expression unreadable, yet urgent. I glanced down at the brown cloth still clutched in my hand. It was a reflex now, a ritual of sorts—I pulled the hood over my head, a veil of comfort and purpose before confronting something dangerous.
I grasped his hand firmly, and with a quick leap, I mounted the banshee behind him, my arms instinctively wrapping around his torso. My fingers pressed into his chest, seeking stability as Ayura unfurled his wings and shot into the sky, the powerful gust of wind whipping against my face. The sound of the air rushing past us was loud, almost deafening, as the world below began to shrink.
Ayura soared upward, her flight both smooth and fast, cutting through the thinning layers of atmosphere as we raced toward Sayura. Neteyam’s skills as a rider were clear—his movements fluid, almost as if he were a part of the creature beneath him. Despite the urgency of the situation, there was something graceful about the way Ayura maneuvered between the towering mountains and dense forests. But the beauty of the world below was lost on me—the fear that had settled in my chest only deepened as the sky darkened, casting a somber, shadowy light over everything, as though the very heavens were reflecting our inner turmoil.
I held onto Neteyam tightly, my arms locked around him for support. One arm rested securely across his chest, while the other hung over his shoulder, fingers gripping the strap of my arrow bag that was slung across my own. My body was pressed close to his back, every muscle tense, as if the slightest movement would send me tumbling into the endless void beneath us. The air was thick with tension, and the sensation of being suspended so high, surrounded by the unknown, only heightened my unease.
