The destiny Eywa granted me [English version]

Chapter 1

The battle had reached its peak; some Metkayinas could no longer fight, while others endured the chaos of fire, screams, and the shadows cast by the impending eclipse. Ao'nung and his friend Rotxo stood on a rock far from where the battle was taking place, still alert, watching the war unfold around them. Amid the rumble of explosions and the whizzing of arrows and spears, a gut-wrenching scream reached their ears, echoing through the battlefield like a death knell.

—One of the Omatikaya has fallen! —some warriors shouted, moving between smoke and flames. —The eldest son of the Sullys is dead!

Ao'nung felt a chill run down his spine. His eyes widened as he tried to catch any sign that would contradict what he had just heard. Beside him, Rotxo looked at him, sharing his disbelief.

—Neteyam... is dead? —the one with the messy curls asked, his voice barely audible.

But Ao'nung barely heard him. His mind was caught in the whirlwind of destruction around them: the fire consuming the structures, creating an ironic scene of two elements mixed, fire and water, the orange flashes reflected in the bloodstained waves, and the sky covered by the eclipse, plunging everything into a sinister twilight. He felt a weight on his chest, something denser and darker than anger, a mixture of fear and pain, so much pain, a feeling he had never experienced before.

Finally, frustration pushed him into action. Without waiting for a clear response or doubting his impulses, he clenched his jaw and turned toward his best friend with lost eyes, feeling the emotional lash within his gut.

—I don't know. But what I do know is we can't stay here —and without speculating further, Ao'nung raised his spear, and with the constant lump in his throat, he called for his ilu. In an instant, the creature appeared, its head breaking the water's surface, the reflective skin of the mammal catching the orange glow of the flames. The taller one quickly mounted and, without thinking, extended his hand to Rotxo, who, still confused and with emerging moisture in his tear ducts, took his hand and climbed onto the ilu's back. They navigated the water, speeding faster than ever. More than when they raced unsupervised by the adults at the edge of the reef, how ironic.

Eventually, they reached the shore of the village. Almost out of breath, they dismounted from the ilu's back, their gazes sweeping the area in search of any sign, any clue that would reveal Neteyam's fate. But all they found were the screams and cries of the Na'vi refugees in the village, children crying, clinging to adults who were trying to protect them. Ao'nung felt a knot in his stomach seeing his people in such a state of despair; the invaders had sown terror in the heart of his village.

—Ao'nung! Isn't that your mother? —Rotxo exclaimed, trembling slightly, pointing towards the figure of the Tsahik, who was by the edge of the Maruwi, organizing the wounded and attending to those in the worst condition.

Ao'nung didn't wait another second. His feet carried him to her, running with hasty steps, loaded with urgency, as if each stride were an echo of his desperation, while his mind wandered far, lost in a whirlwind of disconnected thoughts, unable to anchor itself to the present.

When he reached her side, she looked at him with relief and quickly checked him for injuries. Ao'nung, however, pushed her away with an impatient gesture. He wasn't there to be inspected; his only concern was the life of the Na'vi of the forest.

—Where is Neteyam? —he asked, with no pleasantries, his voice trembling, reflecting a mix of possible hope and fear of the inevitable.

Ronal, who had temporarily abandoned her role as Tsahik to be with her son, looked at him intently. Seeing the anguish reflected in his eyes, her face showed no softness; she was devastated, as if every fragment of her being were torn apart. She understood her eldest son, but the pain of her people and the weight of the priorities on her shoulders allowed no respite.

With her gaze fixed on him, her voice came out deep and heavy with contained tension:

—Don't you see your people, Ao'nung?

Ronal looked at him once more, scanning him from head to toe as if, in that moment, she could see beyond his figure. Everything around them was burning before her eyes: her people, her legacy, the descendants she had protected and defended with tooth and nail. Everything she and Tonowari had worked to protect and care for was crumbling, consumed by flames and the constant pain of a war that would never forgive. And she thought of her son as the future Olo'eyktan, and even though everything was being reduced to rubble, what worried her most was the outsider.

As Tsahik, she understood that all lives were equally valuable, no matter their origin or history. Eywa had created every being with a purpose, and each deserved their place in the world. However, the image of that Na'vi from the forest, foreign to her people yet integrated just like the rest of the Sullys, winning her son's attention, was deeply irritating to her. She couldn't bear the idea of her son, the future of his people, considering the foreigner his priority over the survival of his own people. That idea wasn't just unpleasant; it felt like a threat she could not allow.

With one hand, she caressed her abdomen, as if the life growing inside her was an anchor tying her to the future, a hope for prosperity, while her people's present seemed to crumble before her eyes.

The young Metkayina stood frozen for a moment, not knowing how to react, unable to discern whether it was the weight of custom or the depth of the wound that kept him rooted to the ground. Whether in the chaos of war, amid the thunder of a massacre unleashed by the invaders from the sky, or in the peaceful routine of his village, it always ended the same: facing the unrelenting rejection of his mother. It no longer hurt; at least, that's what he kept telling himself.

But this time, it was different. Something burned inside him, a flame he couldn't extinguish, the one he had felt since hearing the news of the warrior fallen by a bullet. He furrowed his brow, and for the first time, for the first time in his life, he let out what he had kept suppressed. His fangs bared in a fierce gesture, followed by a primal and visceral roar. It wasn't just anger; it was the cry of a storm of emotions his tongue had never known how to translate into words.

Ronal stepped back, her rigid figure blurring for an instant in a flash of surprise and fear. Instinctively, she placed both hands on her belly, as if the new child growing inside her could be a new beginning, a hope that this one wouldn't inherit the emptiness her first son, Ao'nung, carried.

With a firm step, though trembling under the weight of the situation, Ao'nung gave his mother one last look, his fangs still exposed, his expression still filled with anger, though contained. He said nothing, but the gesture was clear. Without another word, he walked away, mounting his ilu again, turning his back on his people, on everything he knew.

—Ao'nung! Hey! —his best friend called from a distance, but Ao'nung ignored him completely. With determination burning inside him, he connected his braid to the ilu he had called moments earlier, feeling the connection vibrate through his body and mind. The creature, with its wild strength, began to move with an almost primal fury. Each flap seemed like a contained roar, and the sound it made as it submerged in the water was fierce, a clear echo and reflection of his own inner turbulence.

As he delved deeper into the waters, he felt the heat of the flames growing fiercer. The closer he got to the massive plane crashed in the water, the heart of the battle, the more frantic his thoughts became, driven by the hope of finding answers. His pace followed the rhythm of his heart, every moment that passed was a tortured sigh, a race against time marked by an almost desperate need to know, to confirm for himself if Neteyam was still alive.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
AUTHOR'S NOTES

HELLOOOO

First of all, English is not my native language so I'm sorry if there is something wrong written or wrongly expressed
I hope you liked this first part, DON'T BE SCARED, I SWEAR THIS WILL GET BETTER 😭 it was just a little bit of angst to start off the story. And no, it's not the humans they're fighting against, so who are they? To find out, keep reading 👀
See you in the next chapter! 💞