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Keluak walked through the dense undergrowth. Or maybe he didn't. He remembered little of the last few hours; now he only knew he needed to find the final element of the burial ritual - a bunch of blue flowers. He held them in his hand like a broom, unable to remember where he had gotten them. Perhaps it was Eywa moving his legs.
Keluak moved automatically, his eyes glassy, staring ahead, unfocused. Soon it would be over.
The thicket ended. He emerged into a small clearing where he was awaited. Hat'set, his sister, nodded and quickly approached, taking the flowers from his hands.
"Give them. Give them here, come on, come on."
She turned and walked toward the pit. Keluak had dug it himself an hour ago. He no longer remembered that either. He didn't want to approach, but his legs, again, carried him forward.
He still couldn't believe it. Nia'ra - his friend since childhood, his hunting partner, his brother in arms - lay in this small grave. He had died half a day ago. Just half a day ago he had been alive. He had been alive when they clashed with the hostile tribe. He had been alive when he fired arrow after arrow.
He had been alive this morning. And now he was dead.
Keluak watched blankly as his sister made the final preparations. He felt paralyzed. There were almost no thoughts left either. They stood here together, and Keluak was grateful that he had a sister who could steady him and help him send Nia’ra on his final journey. Besides this thought, he still had one more - an insane hatred of war.
Keluak had never imagined this could happen in his lifetime. Whether Eywa willed it or not, the war had begun. They fought. Keluak had seen death more than once. But deep down, he had always been irrationally certain it would not touch those he loved and held dear. Then Nia'ra died.
He remembered how Nia'ra's gaze had changed for a moment after two arrows pierced him at once, proving that no one was immortal. And now it seemed as if he was sleeping peacefully. Keluak looked at Nia'ra. There seemed to be no emotion left in him.
"Can you...?" he forced out, choking, unable to finish.
“Yes, I know. It's almost over.”
Since it's a woman was supposed to sing a funeral song, Hat'set sat down near the grave and began a quiet lament. Keluak sat beside her. The melody, spreading through the forest, snapped something within him.
He began to cry. Then to sob and roar. He - a great warrior, the leader of his squad, the victor of battles and duels - sobbed so hard his heart felt like it would break. The roars turned into screams. Keluak choked on his tears; in hysterics, he tore the bow from his shoulder, threw it away, and clutched at his hair. He sobbed like a small child. Hat'set continued her song. Keluak's dirge seemed capable of piercing Eywa's very soul. Whether stirred by a gust of wind or by their own will, the leaves above them began to move, as if reaching out to embrace him and sooth his grief at least a little. Keluak wept and wept, growing quieter with the passage of time. The song flowed through the forest.
...He came to his senses when someone put an arm around his shoulders. Keluak was sitting with his arms wrapped around his knees when Hat'set moved closer. She placed her other hand under his chin, making him look at her; their eyes met - one pair warm and soothing, the other swollen from tears.
"He's with Eywa now," she whispered. "Nia'ra's soul has found peace. Now you need it too."
Keluak said nothing. He could only bury his face in her shoulder and sob a few more times. Hat'set hugged him, continuing to whisper calming sounds.
Some time later, they left the small grave behind. The forest parted and closed behind them, hiding this place of eternal rest away from the wars, chaos and noises of world.