When a seemingly lifeless boy is saved by a girl.
-
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...
♪ Scorched Earth by James Horner ♪ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ Chapter Twenty-Three: Consequence of a Rescue
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
The thunderous roar of the waterfall faded behind us as Ma'vona and I crept through the narrow space between the cascading water and the jagged rock wall. The mist clung to our skin, cold and clammy, as if nature itself were trying to warn us of the dangers ahead. My senses were on high alert, my eyes darting to every shadow and flicker of movement. The sound of rushing water muffled the forest's usual symphony, leaving an eerie quiet that pressed heavily on my ears.
Ma'vona’s fingers brushed mine as she adjusted the wooden locket she’d hastily tied around her neck. Her movements were quick, almost frantic, as if the simple act of securing the locket gave her strength. Her hands fumbled slightly, and I turned toward her, whispering low but urgent.
“Are you ready?” My voice cut through the damp air, steady despite the knot tightening in my chest.
She nodded, the determination in her eyes unmistakable. “Ready.” She tucked the locket beneath her woven chest covering, her fingers lingering for a moment as if drawing courage from its presence.
We stepped out from the shelter of the waterfall, careful to keep our bodies low and our movements quiet. As we walked, Ma'vona's eyes darted to her medicine bag as she grabbed it hurriedly before grabbing my hand. The damp earth squelched underfoot, the forest ahead dense and shadowed. The air felt heavy, charged with tension, and every instinct screamed at me to stay alert.
We walked into the forest with frantic movements, making sure not to make any sounds.
Suddenly, a piercing scream shattered the quiet—a sound so raw and filled with agony that it made the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. Ma'vona froze beside me, her ears twitching. Her wide, golden eyes locked on mine.
“Did you hear that?” She whispered, her voice trembling slightly.
I nodded, gripping my knife tightly. “Stay behind me,” I instructed, my tone leaving no room for argument.
We moved cautiously towards the sound, weaving through the underbrush. Each step felt like an eternity, the forest closing in around us as the scream came again—this time weaker, more desperate. The source of the noise lay in a small clearing, and as we approached, I caught sight of a figure sprawled on the ground.
At first, the outline was unmistakably Na’vi. His skin, his build, even the way he moved—all spoke of our kind. But as we drew closer, the details became clearer, and dread twisted in my gut. His attire was strange, matching those I had glimpsed near the waterfall. And then there was his hand. Three fingers.
I froze, my heart pounding. “He’s one of us,” I murmured, my voice barely audible. "And yet... he's not." I continued, considering he was an Avatar, but, Avatars have four fingers, not three.
