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...
♪ Spirits of Moara by James Horner ♪ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ Chapter Thirty-Two: Forced Choices
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Time crawled in the dim-lit room, every second drawn out by the heavy silence that hung between muffled voices and the occasional shuffle of feet. I sat cross-legged on the cold floor, my back straight despite the ache in my shoulders. Around me, they gathered—young faces full of curiosity and guarded hope, older ones etched with lines of pain and resilience.
I began to speak, my voice steady but low, quiet defiance cutting through the stillness.
"I was found at sea," I said, my gaze steady though my hands rested tensely on my knees. "I don't know how long I was out there, or even how I got there. The waves had claimed almost everything—my memory, my strength, my will. But Ma'vona found me, ritualistically burried in the ocean's grasp."
A wave of gasps came about. "Does that mean you died? How is that possible?" One of them spoke. The room seemed to draw closer, every pair of eyes locked on me.
"Judging how I was found, yes, I was supposed to be dead. But If I'm being honest, I don't know have any explanation for that," I said, lost in memory.
"But Ma'vona... she saved me," I continued, my voice softening. "When I woke up, all I could remember was my name. Nothing else—not my family, my home, or even who I was. It was Ma'vona who helped me find pieces of myself again. She didn't just save my life; she gave me a reason to keep living. A place to belong, even when I didn't think I deserved one."
A young boy seated near me leaned forward, his wide, shining eyes betraying his awe. "And after that?" he whispered, his voice brimming with anticipation.
I smiled faintly, though the memories felt like shards of glass lodged in my chest. "It wasn't simple," I said, glancing at the floor for a moment. "Ma'vona had been exiled from her clan. She understood what it meant to be lost, to fight for a place in a world that didn't want you. And when we returned to her clan, they didn't trust her—or me. Some still don't."
I let the silence fill the air before continuing, "We had to earn it, every step of the way. Training, fighting, proving ourselves. Learning their ways while still searching for who we were."
A girl with short-cropped hair and hollow eyes broke the silence, her voice as tired as her expression. "Finding yourself," she murmured, "isn't just hard—it can break you."
I met her gaze, nodding solemnly, trying to understand her side of the story as pain lingered beneath her words. "It can," I admitted. "And just when I thought I was finding my place, the sky people came. They tore it all away again, leaving nothing but fire and ash. They're relentless—hunting us, stealing from us, destroying what they don't understand. Not only now, but since many decades."
The weight of my words settled heavily over the group, the silence charged with emotions they didn't know how to express.
From the corner of my eye, I noticed At'ok. He wasn't part of the circle but sat reclined against the wall on his bed, a small device in his hands. His sharp features were unreadable, his focus seemingly elsewhere. But I knew better—he was listening, every word measured against whatever standard he held.
