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Lo'ak saw the stars.
Beautiful, burning, and faraway stars. Tangible, but out of reach. They shimmered like crystals against the night sky.
Neteyam loved stars. He would be full of awe and wonder as the reflection of the stars mirrored off of his large golden eyes. A child-like look appeared less and less on Neteyam's face as time shifted and turned.
There was silence.
The waves didn't crash upon themselves heavily; ilus didn't chirp cheerfully; ikrans didn't roar with pride.
For it wasn't just the sound that had been lost, but Lo'ak's brother's life as well.
Lo'ak started to cry. The stars provided no solace. They beamed down prettily against him, ecstatic with their new treasure. Neteyam had a way of making everyone adore him.
He didn't want them. He wanted his older brother. He wanted Neteyam.
That was a cruel thought, wasn't it? Lo'ak got the chance to experience Neteyam, to live with him, and he ruined it. Just like he ruined everything else. The stars deserved to embrace his brother tightly, not him.
Blood-stained memories, golden incur of retribution. Leer at his hands and relive while the other lay dead. There's no sweet release as trust builds bridges between the sky.
Neteyam should be dancing amongst them right now, enchanting and entrancing them, further locking his fate.
Celestial grace, eons old. Wiser than Eywa herself. By the cosmic gods should he find himself deep in the trenches of the ocean?
It was the will of the ancients, stars aligning in place and reaching their peak. Constellations, unique in everyone's perspective, hold and cherish their souls, too. A proud painting created with the color red.
To unearth the shallow arcane, to unveil what shrouds the line between death and life, is unfathomable. Creatures experience both as one, never in unison. A distant harmony, melancholic and soft.
Outcasted by even the stars; refused to give back what once was his. Passion for an intricate life that instead was bitterly ephemeral by the gaping hole in the chest.
All with sonder, aware, and all-seeing stars know of the quixotic serendipity of sacrifices. Healing in the inner children. All that they do.
Moonlit face streaked with guilty salt tears; haunting cries and pleas echoed in his mind.
The brother in him with the brother he is. Rip his heart out of his chest and play with its strings. Bite his tongue and travel between the nebulas. He wasn't one for sorrow. Eywa, give him strength.
Timeless and limitless, there's space for them all. Spectral, infinite, and vast. In his serene memory, is endless. Selfless, deep blue, beautiful forest boy.
For the rest of Lo'ak's life, he'll be there. To fall in love with Pandora, curiosity and all again, a wish come true after broken promises fly high.
Neteyam was home. The warmth of the stars, ethereal yet authentic. Perhaps Lo'ak could reconcile with him later on, once he found the true meaning of stars in the cold world.
Lo'ak saw the stars.