Chapter Text
When Kiri called him over, Lo'ak knew that there couldn't be anything good to come of it.
She motioned for him to be silent, her scent saying more than she had to. The typically warm, flowery scent of the ke'u was mixed with traces or bitter, burned wood, the worry and annoyance clear in her presence. Beside her, Tuk, her head turned upside-down, was trying to peek inside the Sully kelku [home], too busy spying on their parents to notice a new Na'vi beside her and her sister.
Lo'ak knelt beside his older sister, taking great care to remain as quiet as he could, years of training with his mother and father in the forest proving the task easy to manage. Inside the tent, Neytiri, her voice strained, clipped, argued with Jake, his tone short, leaving no room for argument. The tìtxur had his scent elevated, the touch of metal alongside a rich wooden aroma being emitted to try and suppress his mate. But she would not relent, her alpha senses easily pushing back, bringing a wave of anger in the fiery flora and medicinal herb scent she gave off.
"Jake, we cannot leave the forest. You will not subject out children to that!"
There was a scoff. Jake always scoffed when he felt overpowered, trying to give himself time to think, to fight back.
"We have to, Neytiri. The kids are not safe here. We have to go to protect them, to protect the People—"
"Our son has not even presented yet! Tuktirey is nowhere near her presentation yet either! They need the forest around them, the herbs of my mother at their wish, it is what they deserve to know."
From the small gap at the bottom of the kelku, where all of the kids now poked their heads, Jake moved to comfort his mate, his scent subduing into a softer, gentler form. The wood of Na'rìng brought peace to Neytiri, her demeanor shifting from anger to defeat. She stepped back, grabbing her prized bow off of its mantle, the opalescent blue hues shining in the filtered sunlight that washed through Ayram Alusìng.
"My father, as he lay dying, gave me this bow and told me to protect the People. How can I protect the people from an entire ocean away, Jake? Tell me how!"
Outside of the home, the three Sully children exchanged looks with one another, all traces of hope that they could stay in the forests dashed, just as soon as it came. And Lo'ak couldn't take it anymore. Moving to stand, his arm was caught by Kiri, her face quietly asking him why he chose to leave, when their livelihoods were about to change in a way previously unimaginable. The only thing he could do subconsciously was shrug, pulling his wrist from her grasp as Tuk wrapped her arms around her sister, trying to hold back tears that threatened to fall.
Turning towards the center of High Camp, just as Neteyam walked up to his siblings, too late to ask what was happening, Lo'ak wove through the rest of the Omatikaya clan, artisans, hunters, and healers conversing and moving about their day, oblivious to the turmoil within his soul. He stopped in front of the Tsahìk's tent, where his grandmother Mo'at would be inside, likely counseling healers of making new salves for the warriors after RDA raids.
Pushing past the beaded curtains, the Omatikayan teen nodded and politely greeted each elder he passed, until the scent of burning herbs and plants hit his nose. He knew then that his grandmother was at work, the sound of her reciting incantations and blessings making his ears flick upwards with joy. He saw her sitting at the central txeptseng inside the Tsahìk's tent, white smoke drifting and swirling up into the air.
"Sa'nokä sa'nok [grandmother; lit. 'mother's mother'], I wish to speak to you."
The elder tìreya looked up from her place in front of the fire, her eyes radiating with pleasure at the sight of her youngest grandson. Motioning for him to sit down, her heavily medicinal-flower scent grew lighter as her excitement increased, the pure joy in her face at the visit of her favorite grandson delighting her, though the omegan woman would never admit that out loud.
"My darling, come and sit! What brings you here to see me today?"
Lo'ak let out a heavy sigh, the guilt on his conscience not wanting to ruin his grandmother's ecstatic mood. But he needed to speak to an adult he knew would not dance around the issue at hand.
"My parents speak about leaving the forest. Taking our ikran and flying south to escape these new RDA experiments."
He was right. The light left Mo'at's eyes as soon as it came, her scent immediately souring, filling the room with a smell that nearly made Lo'ak vomit. She pulled him by the arm, making him scoot close enough to cup his face in her hands. They shook slightly, a habit that only occurred when his grandmother was truly scared, truly worried.
"What…? Why are they—what could have caused this?"
"Me, Kiri, Spider, and Tuk were captured by a group of uniltìrantokx [dreamwalkers/Avatars], but they were all humans who were dead. Killed in the Great War. Since they know Sa'nok and Sempul are still in the forests, we have to leave." His voice dropped to a whisper, the pain etched in Lo'ak's features coming to surface in the form of tears. His body didn't shake with sobs as he cried; rather, it went rigid, stilling at the belief that he truly would have to leave everything he knew. Everyone he loved back here, in the forests.
It wasn't right.
And Mo'at's response wasn't any comfort either.
"Then your family…must listen to the Olo'eyktan. If your mother and father say you must go, then you must go. I do not wish to see you off, but it is their choice, syulang. And I will always be here," she spoke, placing a hand over Lo'ak's heart, "with you. No matter where you go, hm?"
Lo'ak could only offer a short nod, his emotion welling up too high to speak. Even his grandmother agreed. It was decided, then. He would have to go to a foreign land, with a foreign people who did know know him, did not know his habits. A place where he would not be welcomed, but would have to fight for recognition, for respect.
That feeling, it left a weird warmth at the pit of his stomach. A sensation he'd never felt before.
Lo'ak was nervous. Of course he was.
But was it really just nerves like he thought?