Chapter Text
Bright spots formed on her lens. Her body ached and she tried to move but decided to stay still and lifeless, to refrain from experiencing any pain. She felt like an uprooted plant. As she thought about it, she sensed that the earth beneath her wasn’t quite like it was before.
It was unsteady and its texture was more refined, warmer even. In the distance, yelling and sounds of hurrying footsteps were heard though she still couldn’t bear to open her eyes. Instead, she covered her face with her arms, hoping it was all just a fever dream.
The yelling turned into heavy arguing, and the footsteps came to a halt.
Her head was pounding like a drum and when she felt like she couldn’t handle the pain any longer, a soothing and cold shadow covered her, as if she was the moon being welcomed by the blanket of the night. A deep growling arose from her right.
An ikran. Her ikran.
Then she remembered.
She turned her head slowly towards the noise and forced her eyes open.
The familiar pattern of bright green and pink blotches eased her. Weakly, she raised her hand to touch the ikran’s nose, earning a weak whine in return.
It’s going to be all right, Ente.
She wanted to tell her this. She wanted to, but her body would not cooperate.
Now that her eyes were slightly open, she took in her surroundings.
She could see the sky spread out above her. It was morning already.
There were many Na’vi bordering her, forming a whirlpool of teal and stripes. Their colours were very different from her own, which were more faded and violet. Her mother had always told her she looked that way because she had eaten lots of red berries while she was still in the womb. Now she knew better than to believe that story.
Those Na’vi weren’t only different in tones and patterns but also in build.
They had wide ribcages, bigger hands and hairless tails, meaning they had to have been from another tribe than her.
“We cannot afford to keep picking up strays, who knows what this kewong might bring upon us,” a voice hissed.
She turned her head upwards, watching what she assumed to be the chieftains. Bickering.
“We cannot leave her like this.”
Everyone alongside her seemed to be watching the couple as well. The two chieftains exchanged a long and silent but meaningful glance before the female Na’vi cut the discussion short with words like sharpened battle knives.
“Fine,” she spat out, “but when the blood will be dripping from your hands, I will not be there to clean them.”
After that, the female chieftain turned and left. Ente was nudging the side of her aching body, most likely sensing the hostility in the air and urging her to leave this place. But she understood it was of no use. She used to think she was a fighter, but as she lay there, she found no reason to resist what was to come. Whatever it was, she had already made peace with it.
The chieftain that was still left, made swift motions with his webbed hands, beckoning two other tribe men by his side. Before she could comprehend what was going on, they lifted her into the air.
Ente called out in concern, so she turned and made a frail gesture, signing to her ikran.
Everything is okay.
As she stumbled next to the two tribe men, she picked up certain words, thick in dialect, like kewong and ‘ompin.
She was afraid of what else she might hear so she kept her ears and her head down.
The sky she recognised in its familiar and deep blueness, but the earth beneath her was nothing of the sort. It was not covered in grass and it did not possess that mahogany colour she would often find in the trees of her homelands.
Instead, it was soft and weak and pale.
Like many, many rocks.
Yet rocks were not supposed to feel soft and weak.
This made her head hurt even worse.
It was then that a tribe girl ran up to her and held her face, moving it around and inspecting her features.
She let her of course, the tribe girl was very beautiful and she was embarrassed by her terrible first impression. Her cheeks were most likely still stained with ash and her legs were covered in scratches and bruises. The girl started to ask her all sorts of questions, things she probably should’ve answered but her head felt too foggy for coherent sentences. So instead, she shook her head, conveying her innate confusion.
At that point, the two firm hands released their grasp on her and she faltered, but ultimately managed to remain on her feet. The weak ground had been replaced with wooden planks, forming a sort of deck.
She frowned at the familiarity.
Though the crowd had dissipated, the unforgiving sunlight and the crashing blue wetness next to her made her flatten her ears in discomfort. When she looked back at the beautiful tribe, she appeared sympathetic. Her eyes had a kind of deepness in them she hadn't seen in anyone else yet. A deepness that seemed to absorb her pain and her troubles.
The tribe girl flashed her a caring smile before gracefully placing her hands on her chest.
“Tsireya.”
She placed her hands on her chest as well but didn’t manage to operate with the same elegance as the tribe girl. Her fingertips were charred and dry and for a moment she felt Tsireya would recoil from the sight, but instead, she watched in devoted silence. Her mouth opened to speak but only a sharp, raspy sound left her throat.
Then the tears trickled down. Even if she could have talked then, what would there have been left to say?
Maybe there were no words that could truly have depicted her sorrow.
Maybe she should have just screamed.
That would have been adequate.
Back home, she had always lived by herself, where she would talk for hours to the birds and to the bugs gnawing on the leaves and at night, she would entrust her secrets to the stars, always quiet, always listening.
She used to think that, if she did not fill the void with her voice, then she would be absolutely alone.
As she stood there, covered in the ash of her home and crying without making any sound, she felt like a no-one. She might as well not even be there anymore. Just a speck of dust in the wind. She went to fall on her knees but Tsireya intercepted her and held her. She wanted to push her away, but when she returned the embrace, she understood the hurt was much easier to bear with two.
Tsireya placed a careful hand on her back and led her inside a tent. It seemed much roomier on the inside than the outside and it was tranquil without the scorching sun or crashing waves. The floor was covered by some sort of tapestry and in the corner of the tent there were sheets and cushions. Tsireya motioned to the corner with a cupped hand, telling her to rest. She needed no convincing and fell down into the pile of softness, reminding herself to apologize for any stains her cuts might leave.
* * *
She woke up, sensing a pale blue figure sitting next to her.
“Tsireya…” she mumbled.
A deep, amused chuckle answered her.
Her ears flattened as her eyes shot open. It was not Tsireya who was sitting next to her. In fact, it was someone she had never seen before. She grunted and struggled to sit upright, her ribs were cramping with pain and her legs felt numb. She must’ve been asleep for a long time, the sun was setting above the vast water. The unknown figure watched her closely as she backed into the tent and threw him a nasty look.
“You look… horrible,” he managed to say, “and… purple…”
He turned her leg to uncover a big bruise before she yanked her limbs away from him.
“But that seems to be normal for you,” he said with a big grin.
She had met many people who commented on her appearance but had found no one yet who would do it with such untroubled sneering.
She immediately decided she did not like him.
“Where is she?” she grumbled.
“Where is who?” he answered with a smile, though it was not assuring but highly aggravating.
She had never wanted to hit someone as hard as she wanted to hit him.
“Where is Tsireya,” she spat at him.
She wondered how she could leave her alone with this… vonvë.
“She has gone to fetch paywll for your wounds.”
Scanning his features she estimated him to be around her age.
His hair was dark and his thick braids were occasionally interrupted by white shells and beads. On his left shoulder were black, intricate swirls forming a tattoo of something she couldn’t make out yet. His eyes were pale, like Tsireya’s, yet were colder and lacking in depth. They completely pierced her to her spot, making her uneasy.
“I… I have no wounds. I feel fine.”
In one sudden movement, she hoisted herself up like a baby bird, ready for its first flight. Not shortly after, she fell to the ground as the pain shot through her right back leg. She clenched her jaw, and let out a ‘wiya’ before calming herself down.
The tribe man sighed.
“Tsireya told me your voice has gone, but you do speak a lot now…”
He walked over to her and crouched down.
“...seems like you’re getting better,” he said with elated sarcasm as she held her strained leg.
She shot him an angry glare yet that seemed to amuse him even more. His hands reached for her waist to lift her up but she flinched.
“Do NOT… touch me.”
He looked away and held up his hands as if he had just gotten burned.
Instead of looking apologetic, the cocky grin remained on his face and his eyes trailed her body. She scrunched up her nose and was ready to hiss at him when someone erupts with anger at the opening of the tent.
“Ao’nung!”
It was Tsireya, holding a bundle of blossoming paywll.
His grin became smaller but his brash demeanour was still very much there.
“What are you doing with the girl? I told you to watch her, not push her over on the ground!”
This was not the same merciful Tsireya she had met that morning. Even Ao’nung seemed surprised and unable to defend himself.
“I did not—”
“You never do anything, do you?”
The tribe girl looked over at her with big blue eyes.
“Was he mean to you?”
Not knowing what to do, she nodded slowly, incapacitated by her gaze.
Tsireya knelt down and held her upper body, embracing her as if she was a newborn.
“You should go, tsmukan.”
The last word made her ears shoot up in bewilderment.
Brother?
Ao’nung kissed his teeth, looked down at the cradled Vini and walked away, his heavy footsteps disappearing in the distance.
“I apologise for Ao’nung. He can be bit… hot-headed at times.”
She was appalled: it was now clear how they could be related but they also seemed complete opposites, a bit like how a sun and a moon could be compared to each other as both celestial objects but with different orbits and temperatures.
Tsireya continued:
“Now you can talk: I ask of you your name.”
“Vinira or… my… my friends call me Vini.”
“Then I will call you Vini,” she said with a self-assured smile and Vini could not help but return the same.
It felt nice hearing her name through a voice that was not her own.
“I see you can understand what we say now, you understood Ao’nung, yes?”
Vini mustered to utter a weak ‘yes’, she had hoped maybe her brain fogginess had lasted a bit longer, that way she wouldn’t have had to have that conversation with Tsireya’s brother.
Tsireya must’ve sensed Vini had retreated into her shell because she stood up once more.
“We eat at sundown. I will retrieve you then.” She trodded off and Vini lay down.
As she looked up at the roof of the tent, she could not shake off the gnawing feeling that she did not belong there and would never belong anywhere ever again.