Spirit Of The Ikran

Pandora wasn't always like this.

It was our home. Our peace. Our fortress.

It happened before I was even born, fifteen years before he arrived. Jake Sully. Toruk Makto. Our leader, an alien from a foreign land, came to our clan and became one of the people. The first ever human in Na'vi spoken history to do so. He was strange, with four fingers instead of the native three.

But what really marked him as alien was his unwavering confidence. His abilities, his passion, and heart. But what really amazed and captivated the people was his absolute surety. When he committed to something, he was all in. No half measures. Hence the title and his temporary mount, Toruk. The Last Shadow. Never in my short life, had I ever dreamed that I might one day call this alien outsider, brother.

That was a long time ago. It felt like a lifetime ago, fifteen years had passed in the blink of an eye. Our small family had grown from three, Mo'at, Neytiri and me; we welcomed Jake Sully with open arms as the next Olo'eyktan. The children followed in the years to come, first was Neteyam, then Lo'ak and through some act of Eywa, Kiri was born from the body of the late Doctor Grace Augustine. Lastly and the most recent of the litter, Tuktirey. Of course, there was the small human child, Spider. He hung around like fowl smelling dire horse dung. Impossible to pry from the children's side.

They were happy. So I was happy. Nodding and agreeing with my sister about how perfect her life was. My heart was elsewhere. Eywa help me. Why couldn't I forget that man?

Miles Quaritch.

That name will reververate around in my skull till the moment I die. The name of the man who killed my family.