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...
♪ Leaving Home by Simon Franglen ♪ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ Chapter Twenty: The Sullys
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The sky above Pandora was a canvas of radiant colours streaked with the vibrant pinks and oranges of an unfolding eclipse. The Sully family flew in solemn formation, their ikrans beating powerful wings as they cut through the warm breeze. The familiar, verdant expanse of the Omaticaya lands lay ahead, a sharp contrast to the endless waters they had called home for months. Yet, the journey was anything but a joyous return.
Neteyam's ikran flew slightly behind Jake's, his movements slower, as if weighed down by grief. He had no rider now, his back bare and empty, and the sight of him alone was enough to bring tears to anyone's eyes. Lo'ak couldn't stop himself from glancing at him, the image slicing through his heart like a blade. His brother's ikran, once full of life and strength, now seemed hollow, her mournful cries echoing the loss that none of them dared to speak aloud.
Lo'ak clenched the reins of his ikran so tightly that his knuckles turned a light blue, his grip trembling under the weight of his emotions. A lump rose in his throat, thick and immovable, as if his very grief had taken physical form. Anger, guilt, and despair swirled within him like a raging storm, each emotion colliding with the other, leaving him hollow and breathless. His chest heaved with the effort to contain it all, but no amount of forced composure could ease the ache that settled deep within him a—raw, searing pain that no wind or flight could soothe.
His gaze locked on Neteyam's ikran, the sight both unbearable and magnetic. He wanted to look away, to free himself from the agony of the memories tied to his empty back, but he couldn't. Every time he tried, his eyes betrayed him, drawn back as if tethered to the image of his brother's absence. It was a cruel reminder of the void Neteyam had left behind, a hollow space that felt as vast and endless as the skies above. His chest ached as if an invisible hand were squeezing his heart, a relentless, crushing weight that no distraction could lift.
A sharp, shaky sigh escaped his lips, lost in the rush of the wind that dried his throat and stung his eyes. He felt tears pricking at the corners, threatening to spill over, but he blinked them away with a quick, jerky motion. Lo'ak had grown skilled at hiding his tears; after all, tears felt like weakness, and weakness was something he could no longer afford. His brother had always been the strong one, the protector who shielded him from the harshness of the world. Without Neteyam, Lo'ak felt naked to the cold, stripped of the safety and warmth that his brother's presence had always brought.
"Neteyam..." he whispered, barely audible, as if speaking the name would summon him back. But there was no answer, only the unyielding wind and the rhythmic beat of wings against the sky. The emptiness in the silence was unbearable.
Tsireya, Aonung, and Rotxo always stayed by the sibling's side, especially Lo'ak. Aonung tried to be the friend Lo'ak needed. He was surrounded by care and attention ever since his brother was gone, and yet he felt alone. So alone, he'd drown in a sea of loneliness, even if it meant to see his brother. Alive and at peace.
