Chapter Text
“Toruk Makto has returned!”
The news echoed throughout the forest and traveled through the leaves. every Na’vi that was close by gathers around their home tree, all to confirm the rumors. Then, a group of Ikran lands in the center as the long awaited savior of Eywa'eveng climbs off his Ikran. Toruk Makto. Gasps filled the forest as his family followed him suit.
Up in the air there is one Na’vi enjoying the view, flying on her ikran she glances down at the scene and decides to see it for herself. Her ikran lands behind their home as she follows her brother. “Ava’kiya.” He says, tone so strict it sounded like she was going into war, Ava’kiya chooses to ignore him and focuses on the family’s arrival.
The tsahik is the first to greet them, immediately embracing her daughter. Tsu’tey let’s down whatever intimidating act he’s playing and greets his old friend. “My brother” he says, JakeSully chuckles at that.
Kha’veh waits for his father to give them an order, Ava’kiya wants to run away. There is someone in the crowd of children that is staring bullets at her, she can’t tell if they’re out of spite or out of longing.
And after what felt like ages, Tsu’tey finally speaks up. “Toruk Makto and his family will not be returning permanently,” The crowd turns gloomy . “However during his stay we must always treat them with respect.” And the crowd cheers, welcoming the family back as conversations flowed, most of them about the Sully siblings and how much they have matured.
Lo’ak is now seventeen, he’s starting to look more like the JakeSully himself each day. People say he has become more responsible, yet is still a troublemaker at heart. Tuktirey, just turning ten she is still bright and curiosity flows throughout her tiny body. Kiri, eighteen. And she is still always in her own world, intelligent and calm. The perfect older sister.
And Neteyam. Eighteen year old, wonderful Neteyam. He exudes confidence, he’s become taller, his body is decorated with scars, a sign of a warrior yet his eyes still soften whenever his little sister approaches him, asking to hold his hand because she is tired. Deep down, he is still the Neteyam that Ava’kiya was promised to when they were born.
It was just a tiny little agreement between the two fathers, that at least one of their children will be made for each other. And Ava’kiya, as young and innocent as she is, took that fact very seriously. She stuck to Neteyam like glue, and he did the same to her, when he had to leave for refuge she did not even say goodbye, because she claims that saying goodbye means forever.
Maybe that was what made her almost immediately climb on her Ikran to run from the crowd. Soaring through the mountains of Pandora, the cold breeze hits her face as her Ikran lands on an empty mountain. “Thank you, Nilou.” She says, petting its head. Ava’kiya stays on Nilou, laying on her back before the sound of another Ikran appears.
“Why did you run from me Avi?” The owner of said Ikran asks, as he flies above Ava'kiya, blocking her view of the perfectly fine view.
“I don’t think we are that close anymore for you to reclaim that nickname, Son of Toruk Makto.”