Chapter Text
The faint light of the passing eclipse cast a blue glow through a crack in the cave.
It dripped over Zontu's hunched shoulders, briefly illuminating the tool-strewn work station. The familiar scent of fruity tea filled the air from a mug near the door, making the cave smell like ripe fortune fruit and honey. Zontu's snonivi hung forgotten, the hammock swaying lonesomely in the breeze as its owner tinkered.
Only the fire gave him warmth and company.
The tired Na'vi was still huddled over his newest metal creation: a frequency disruptor made from the repurposed parts of a research probe. While the technology naturally caused an irritating static to erupt from nearby devices, this one was honed to completely break RDA radar and long-form broadcasts. It just wasn't quite perfect yet, so Zontu struggled over it with a crescent wrench.
The damn thing hummed obnoxiously loud in his ear each time he attempted to tune it. He was mere seconds from throwing it against the wall in frustration when the rib plant at the entrance retracted, curling its tendril-like leaves towards the ceiling. A figure stood in the entryway, the new form breaking up the piercing light from outside.
"Oel ngati kameie, Zo," a cool, feminine voice called to Zontu.
It was impossible for Zo to make out the details of her face from the rest of her silhouette. He had spent too many hours curled up close to the dim fire. He had forgotten how bright the rest of their home peak could be.
The light of the Boundless Range intruded harshly into his sanctuary, causing his head to split with pain. He rubbed his three fingers over the ache in his temple and scowled deeply until it retreated. His tsahik took the opportunity to kneel beside him on the mat while his vision and focus slowly returned to him.
"Oel ngati kameie, Fi," the Na'vi mechanic returned. He allowed his eyes to wander for a brief moment over Firilaye before casting his gaze to the ground again. Compared to the tattered scraps of his TAP uniform and retrofitted RDA attire, Fi was a vision sent straight from Eywa.
Her ioi bodice had been woven from lionberry fibers and kinglor silk, and the edges were darned with shell beads and stone. A bark-woven cloth swayed gracefully from her hips, and the embroidered edges bounced playfully on her knees. She stood and kneeled with the same grace as a zeswa dance-fighter, each movement deliberate and smooth.
“You have not come out in over a day, tsumukan,” the slender female murmured. Her tail swayed slowly as she watched Zo, her expression contemplative. By contrast, the male Na’vi’s face twisted in irritation. He did not look up from his gadget and instead wrenched it harder.
Zo grunted.
“There is much work to be done around kelutral,” he responded sternly before gesturing hastily to the entryway behind them. With the rib plant still furled, it was easy to see the sparse smatterings of their home base beyond the cave.
A burrowed tent from the Zeswa and woven mats from the Aranahe were the only fixtures that kept their space comfortable. The rest was scrap material, nature, and decoration; strung brook shells and hollow-bone windchimes marked the openings to two different flight paths. Sunlight trickled through the moss netting and curled whip leaves. Zontu’s windray and Firilaye’s ikran sat just beyond the floating waterfall that Isemín had dived down earlier in the day, and the smell of fresh rain filled the air.
Though their space was pleasant, how could the Mun'a Tute clan survive on just weavings and three tired TAP refugees? It made Zo’s stomach churn.
Fi, however, smiled softly at the wind-rustled grass and moss-covered roots that anchored their floating peak to the rest. She turned back to Zo with a tranquil look in her eye and waited until he finally gave up on his probe.
He growled as he did and punched a new dent into the metal cover, letting the horrid thing roll away. It bumbled to a stop in front of the fire and reflected back his terrible scowl. The flames flickered off its surface as it did, making him appear all the more ghastly.
His frown deepened further.
“Enough of this,” Firilaye coaxed quietly again. “Come help me with syuve. We have not had time to talk since my hunt.”
The beads on her clothing tinked gently off each other as she leaned forward. She let her hand hover above his knee and waited for his flinch to pass. He was always more guarded about his afflicted leg, and he had never quite overcome his reflex.
For Fi, however, he could relax far faster and easier. He allowed her thin fingers to fall gently against his scarred leg as heat flared into his ash-covered cheeks.
“I am no cook. You know this, Fi,” he muttered reluctantly, meeting her gaze before dashing his own to the side. It was easier to hide the blush creeping towards the tips of his ears when he didn’t look directly at her.
Any other woman may have laughed at his suddenly bashful reaction, but Fi was not the type to do so. Instead, she merely smiled, her thumb rubbing gently over his knee.
“No, you are not,” she affirmed, her voice soft and tone slightly playful. “But you are my friend, and I would like to share the story of my first hunt with you while I work.”
That made Zo scowl again. He had been purposefully ignoring the topic, and Fi knew that.
It was impossible for him to mask his displeasure at her request, but Fi only needed to smile again for him to relent. Her bangs fell over her eyes, making the green in them shine. He studied them intently as she gently helped him to stand.
“Very well,” Zo grumbled, wiping some soot off his gloves. The stains on his clothing perfectly matched the tsamopin on his face. While their tsahik only decorated her face for spiritual missions and diplomacy, Zo’s eyes were constantly shadowed by dark war paint. Despite wearing their gear and working on their tech, Zo's hatred for the RDA was evident on his cheeks.
His excessive rage was a spiritual wound that Fi had tried to alleviate, but the sky people’s poisonous thorn had buried itself too deep within Zontu for her to extract. All she could do was be there for him while he struggled.
“Tell me about this strange adventure with Ti’ite,” Zo grumbled again, squinting his eyes at the passing eclipse as twilight returned and new light flooded his senses. Fi did not reward his jealous mutters with a reaction. She merely steered him towards their small cooking station.
“Well,” she began, lifting two small cooking knives and a fire seed from the food basket, “he took me beneath the arch of the Tangled Lake. There, massive octofins splash about, and fertile leopard palms give rise to giant fruits. The dapophets lay thick roots near the bamboo shores. It is utterly breathtaking! We were there to stalk hexapedes, but they are more quick-footed than I expected."
She handed one knife off to Zontu to use and watched his brow furrow while he fumbled with the seed pod. Grumbling softly to himself, he carefully shucked the hard shell off and listened. When no more protests came from the man, Fi continued to tell her story while she retrieved some meat. Her tail swished slowly as she moved.
"When Tsuayra first dived down... I had never felt more terrified. She moved with such speed... I thought we were going to crash into the forest floor. I could feel her heart as if it were my own. It was unlike anything I have ever felt before," Fi practically whispered. The hair stood up on the back of her neck as Fi imagined the flight again.
Her hands stilled over a cut of viperwolf, and she stared into the flickering flames. Zo noticed and lowered his own knife, watching her stand silently until she shook herself back awake.
Reality had passed her by for a second.
"You are lucky," Zo grunted, his gaze returning to the cutting board, "She could have killed you. Ti'ite never should have brought you on such a dangerous trip."
His words were blunt and as vicious as his cuts. Each smack of his knife made Fi tense slightly tighter. She knew how Zo felt, but... could they not still share in this moment? Ise had been so joyous, by comparison. She wanted to include Zo, but he made it so hard.
Fi could feel the scar throb on the back of her neck as her emotions flared. She clenched her fist but maintained her composure as she responded, "Is the Iknimaya not a rite of passage for all prepared Na'vi?"
Zontu could hear the unspoken challenge in her words, but knew better than to rise to the insult. Instead, he said, "It is not you I worry about, but the position he puts you in."
He. He. The ever-present ghost that haunted the lost-tlalim's thoughts. Ti'ite was by no means a bad man, but Zo still hated the Aranahe male as if he were the enemy.
What had Ti’ite ever done other than take Firilaye under his wing and teach her the ways of the forest she otherwise never would have known? TAP had already taken so much… how could Zontu expect her to deprive herself from any more?
Objectively, Fi knew that wasn’t what was happening here, but her fists still clenched as she threw more twigs into the fire.
Taking a handful of fiery herbs, she dashed the powder across the steaks and seared them. They dropped into the pan with a deafening hiss, and Fi flipped them as the fire grew higher.
Now, Zo was no cook, but he knew that Fi usually marinated food longer. She also cooked with the embers low, forever afraid of singeing her fingertips. The brief burst in flames made him pause in his task, and he chewed on his lip before coming to her side with the seeds. His chest brushed her shoulder as he reached to drop his share into the pan.
“I’m just glad you are safe,” he admitted with a mumble. His breath tickled Fi’s ears as they folded down into her hair. Her breath hitched slightly, but she did not make a sound.
She just kept flipping the steaks, her focus intent on the meal.
“Is this what you caught?” Zo finally showed interest, his three fingers falling over her hand at the pan handle.
He stilled her arm so he could study the meat, then let out a grunt, his lips rising on one side. That was the one way he showed approval. “So when the hexapede herd did not come... you caught the hunters instead.”
Fi finally flinched back from the fire, her eyes going wide in horror. She had not realized how viperwolf steaks may look to Zontu of all people.
“Oh, Zo…” she began, her brow furrowing slightly. He only shook his head, letting out a stalled chuckle.
“It is no matter. Better you kill them than the sky people. At least this way their spirit will be with Eywa, and their bodies will go to feed the clan. I take no offense. It is a better fate than…”
Being severed.
Those words hung heavy between them without needing to be said. Fi couldn’t help but look down at the silvery scars across Zontu’s stomach and legs, but she stopped when she noticed him shift uncomfortably. For a man who had been mauled by a feral thanator in his youth, Zontu fought to protect the severed as if they were kin.
Perhaps they were, in some way. How many nights had Fi stayed up to pray with him beside their small Tree of Voices? It was no secret how cut off he felt from Eywa. Fi could feel his heart reaching hopelessly towards Eywa, as did her own.
Perhaps, then, Firilaye should have felt more called to the severed too. Instead, she flinched away when she saw their pain and suffering. It made the scar at the back of her neck ache again.
What kind of tsahik was she if she could never have conversations that hurt? Shame filled her for a moment, but Fi's mind quickly faltered at the sound of Ise’s happy yip.
The reef Na’vi had just arrived from over the waterfall. Their thick, fin-like tail swept side to side as they slapped over the wet rocks, and their hair glittered with thick beads of water. They always seemed a bit more awkward on land, but that didn’t stop them from maintaining a big smile.
“Oel ngati kameie, Fi, Zo,” Isemín dipped their hand to each. “What is our brave tsahik cooking?” They began to circle the crowded cook station, trying to steal a peek at the pan. Zontu instantly jumped back, placing space between himself and Fi. Ise did not seem to notice.
“Oel ngati kameie, Ise,” Fi responded with a smile. She shot Zo an amused look, but the man only scowled back. Ise remained oblivious to the exchange, their tail wagging as they sniffed at the dish. It was not long after that Fi removed their food from the fire. She spread the meal onto plates, then handed it off for the rest to enjoy. Ise snatched their plate immediately and settled down on an Aranahe mat.
“So,” Zo hummed, his voice deep and throaty, “did you find anything new?”
The young reef Na’vi looked up from their food with surprise. Usually, Zo wasn't the one who asked them any questions. Ise coughed on their food, their cheeks still stuffed to the gills. A few dry swallows later, and the reef Na’vi was grinning again.
“Kukulope traded me this for some of my forest seaweed today,” they professed while pulling a dangling charm off their belt. The main centerpiece was not some strange of bead, but a chiseled spearhead made entirely from shell. It twisted and glistened in the evening light. Knots had been tied into the cord that were reminiscent of a fisherman’s net.
“She says it was traded to her by the gatherers at Woven Marsh. It was given to them by a passing reef clan. She’s not sure if it’s my pod, but…”
Zontu's eyes dropped from Ise's disheartened gaze. The shaky edges of their only stick-and-poke tolu swept across their shoulder, poking out from beneath the towel they snagged. Without a reference to go by, the lines of the tattoo were wobbly and looped awkwardly around the Na’vi’s collarbone. It was made of interlocking lines that overlapped into dancing waves, but it lacked the symbolism Isemín would have gotten from their actual coming-of-age ceremony. At the very center, at least, was the stretched letters of their tulkun’s name: Ìtsll.
“It is gorgeous nonetheless,” Fi finally interjected. She had settled down into her own spot on the mats, folding her legs gracefully beneath herself. Zo’s mouth went dry from watching her sit. She settled as beautifully as the atokirina upon the forest floor.
“I think it is a good trade, Ise. It is the first step towards finding your-”
Boom boom boom boom.
Zontu’s ears twitched, and his jaw stilled as he stopped chewing to listen closely. He still had a mouthful of viperwolf meat pinched between his long fingers. The rest of the group froze alongside him.
Boom boom boom boom boom.
Gunfire. It was rattling the treetops about four miles off.
Ise frowned, and Fi bristled. Zontu’s frown grew into a disgusted scowl. After quickly placing his own plate down, the Na’vi male sprang to his feet. He rolled on his heels, quickly pivoting towards the cave. Fi shouted after him.
“Zontu, no! There is no point! We do not have the manpower. If you go alone-”
“Then no one else gets hurt,” he cut her off, sorting through his many baskets of technology till he located a heavy, block-shaped weapon. It had a fat-ended muzzle with a covered barrel and thick scope. The armrest landed like a plank against his shoulder. A SOLARIS III glittered menacingly in the cavelight, accompanied by a sidemounted TASER XVI. The damn thing was a conglomeration of hatred and violence. It made Fi recoil as she watched him lift it.
Of all the things he couldn’t let go of, this invention was the worst. Despite all the progress they had made… Zontu couldn’t put it down.
Fi chewed on her lip, the beads of her garment tinkling haphazardly in the wind.
She ran towards the cave and planted herself firmly in the entryway.
For just a moment, it seemed that Firilaye may not move from the entrance of Zo’s workshop. For just a moment, it seemed as if she would rather fight him than step aside.
Then, slowly, after glaring her down for what felt like an eternity, Zo lowered the gun to his feet.
He laid the barrel against the cave wall and removed the travel strap once more from around his shoulder. After placing the weapon down carefully, he approached Fi with gentle steps. His long tail flicked cautiously as he eased himself closer.
Once they were no more than a nose length apart, Zo reached out to touch her and tucked a curl behind her ear. His golden eyes softened, and the scar along his left cheek twitched. He was no longer frowning, but he still couldn’t bring himself to smile.
“Firilaye,” Zo spoke her name sweetly, savoring each sound as he hummed it soft and low, “I will be fine. I may be hotheaded, but I will not simply run out into the open. Besides,” he murmured, his hand slipping down her shoulder to rest near her wrist, “it could be one of the other clans out there. Wasn't the point of your flight today to make allies? We cannot throw them to those dogs. If the RDA are that close, then they are far too close for safety. Allow me to be our warrior for the Mun’a Tute. If you are tsahik, then let me defend you as such.”
“I do not need to be 'defended,' Zontu,” Fi practically hissed, bearing the pink of her gums as she flashed her teeth at him. She caught him completely by surprise. The Na’vi mechanic could only stare, his face suddenly blank and eyes wide. He had rarely ever seen her so angry. This was entirely new.
“I do not need you to wield a gun for me like one of those idiotic sky-people, taking your vengeance out on the next skxawng that stumbles into your firing range. I do not need you to kill in my name! We are supposed to be better than them now, Zo! Don’t you understand that?! Don’t you see that?!”
Ise, who had been standing back and huddled close to the fire, flinched harshly when Fi raised her voice. Pressing her ears down against her head, Fi turned to shoot the reef Na’vi an apologetic look.
The edges of her nerves had been frayed from gathering food and impressing the clans, and she could only take so much chaos in a day. It was hard enough to keep their small family together without Zontu running into battle. Firilaye worried about him enough when he was tracking the severed. Could he at least do her the service of not getting himself gunned down by humans?
Whatever it was that warred on her face, it did not seem to matter as Zontu straightened his back and steeled his shoulders.
His eyes shrank into slits, and he clenched his fists at his sides, his tail waving angrily as he turned back towards his weapon. Hoisting it up over his shoulder, he drew himself to his full height and ignored the ache in his bad leg that made him want to hunch over.
“I am better than them,” he growled, his own teeth flashing as he stared down the Na’vi woman. Confusion overtook her till she remembered her own words.
'We are supposed to be better than them.'
Pushing past her with a jut from his shoulder, Zontu marched towards the waterfall, ignoring Ise’s terrified gaze as he passed. The reef Na'vi did not speak up, and Firilaye did not know what else to say.
Of course Zontu had only heard the parts which bruised his ego. Of course he would never see how frightened she was of losing him. This was all just some test to the man, and he wouldn’t let the RDA best him again. He wouldn’t let something stupid like fear be the one thing that stopped him from freedom again.
He would use this moment to be worthy of Eywa again.
Though Fi wanted to scream that Zontu was being a complete and utter idiot, all she could think about was how terrified she was of losing him as he formed tsaheylu with Zaspew and took off towards the forest floor.