Chapter Text
The first time Oscar saw the ocean Na’vi, he was struck by how differently they moved—graceful in the water, with skin that shimmered with iridescent patterns and luminous blue-green eyes that held the depth of the sea. As a former human, a “Dreamwalker” who had permanently transferred his consciousness into his Na’vi avatar, Oscar still felt like an outsider in his own clan. The Omatikaya had accepted him, but his Na’vi was slow, clumsy, accented. His tongue struggled with the melodic vowels and sharp clicks.
He was sent as part of a diplomatic envoy to the Metkayina, the reef people, to discuss troubling signs: increased human “Sky People” activity from orbit, and whispers of a fierce, nomadic clan of fire Na’vi from the volcanic highlands, who were raiding territories with unprecedented aggression. Unity was no longer a choice but a necessity.
Lando was among the Metkayina who greeted them. He was shorter than Oscar, with a lean, hydrodynamic build, tight black curls clinging to his forehead and neck, and those startling seafoam eyes that seemed to see right through you. He moved with a confident ease that made Oscar feel even more like a lumbering forest creature.
After the formal greetings by the clan leaders, Oscar lingered by the shore, practicing the names of the alien seagrasses. Lando approached him, a playful smile on his lips.
“Kaltxì,” Lando said, the standard greeting. Oscar nodded, managing a rough “Kaltxì” back.
Then Lando tilted his head, his gaze warm and appraising. He spoke again, his voice a soft, flowing rhythm, entirely in rapid, fluent Na’vi. The words washed over Oscar—a beautiful, incomprehensible stream.
Oscar’s mind froze. What is he saying? His brain scrambled for a familiar word, a root, anything. He found nothing. Panic bubbled up. The silence stretched, awkward and heavy. Lando’s expectant, smiling face waited.
Internally, Oscar screamed at himself.
Wtf is he on about? Just smile Oscar. Just smile. Smile.
He forced his lips into a stiff, wide grin, nodding like a fool.
Lando’s smile turned into a delighted, curious grin. He leaned a little closer, and repeated, slower, as if to make sure Oscar heard the musical phrase:
”Kxawm, ngawprrta.”(“Hey, cutie.”)
But to Oscar, it was just more beautiful noise. He kept smiling, a beacon of polite, panicked ignorance.
Lando chuckled, a sound like rippling water, and touched Oscar’s arm lightly before turning to join the others. Oscar stood rooted to the spot, the ghost of the touch on his skin, his heart pounding for reasons that had nothing to do with diplomacy or war.
He didn’t understand the words. But the tone, the look in those ocean-deep eyes… it sparked something in him, something that felt as dangerous and uncharted as the brewing storm between their clans and the fires on the horizon.
This was only the beginning.