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 Spirit Tree by Simon Franglen ♪ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ Chapter Seventeen The Reflection
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Ma'vona’s eyes flew open, her breath coming in sharp, shallow gasps. Her pupils had shrunk to pinpoints, reflecting the terror that still clung to her from the vision. Beside her, I felt myself blink back the intensity of what I’d just seen. My mind was reeling, struggling to process the brutal flash of her past. I exhaled slowly, my head hanging low as I tried to shake off the dark energy left by the memories.
When I lifted my gaze, Ma'vona was staring at me, her mouth open, tears welling in her wide eyes. She looked so vulnerable, so raw. Her chest hitched, and in a broken whisper, she began to cry. The sound pierced me deeply, and I found myself reaching for her instinctively. “Ma'vona,” I murmured softly, my voice almost lost in the silence of the sacred cave. I scooted closer, slipping my arms around her trembling form, pulling her to me as she buried her face against my shoulder.
Between choked sobs, Ma'vona managed to speak, her voice fractured and fragile. “Even… even if I want to see them again, Neteyam, to feel something other than this pain... this is the only vision I am shown. Every time I connect with any sacred tree, hoping to reach Eywa, hoping to feel my parents… this is all I see. Its like a punishment I have to carry for the rest of my life."
Her words shattered something in me. She had been seeking solace, yearning for connection with the ones she had lost, and instead, Eywa had given her only this—a replay of horror, of the day she’d lost everything. Her pain was fresh, like a wound that could never heal, forced open every time she sought comfort. I pulled her closer, feeling her body shake against me, trying to lend her what little strength I could.
Ma'vona’s body shuddered with each sob, her hands clutching at her chest as if trying to hold in the agony that was spilling out. Holding her close, I could feel the weight of her grief as though it had settled on my own shoulders. Every tear, every broken breath, seemed to reveal a wound too deep to be healed by time alone.
I could barely comprehend the pain of losing one's parents in such a brutal way, but the knowledge of what her parents had endured made my chest tighten. I understood now. To have one's queue severed—it was more than just a punishment. It was a curse, a complete rejection from Eywa, a sentence that stripped away any possibility of unity, not just in life but in the realm beyond. It was a fate far worse than death. To be torn from Eywa’s embrace, to be severed from the very heartbeat of Pandora, and to know your spirit could never be reunited with the Great Mother or find peace — I couldn't imagine a greater torment.
Ma'vona’s voice trembled as she went on, her hands gripping my arms as if she were afraid I’d disappear too.
“They said… they said he was a traitor, that he worked with the sky people. But he wasn’t, Neteyam. He was trying to help someone... He was trying to do something good—but no one believed him.” Her gaze grew distant, lost in the fog of memories. “Even Ta’ney, Txä'vo’s father… he did nothing. He just stood there, looking away. No one helped us. No one… they cast me away like I was nothing. Left me in the wild… to fend for myself if not to let me die.”
