The atmosphere was so tense that even breathing had become a difficult task. A massive crowd of Na'vi, armed with spears and bows, stood ready for any sign of danger. With a single order from the Olo'eyktan, thousands of arrows would be unleashed upon the three outsiders who had intruded into their home. They were positioned in a C-shaped semicircle, with my parents standing at the center and me situated to my mother's right.
Our Palulukans—both mine and my father Sukai's—stood by our sides. As for Me'ra, my mother's Selìk, she was nowhere to be seen; apparently, she found no interest in being present.
The Txumre, graceful yet dangerous creatures, had the four plates covering their mouths wide open, waiting to fire their paralyzing darts. Even the Risak warriors—nine in total, five of whom were present—showed a powerful and terrifying sight mounted upon their Palulukans.
I was about to ask about the outsiders when they finally appeared. Strong Angtsìk arrived at the gathering, pulling large cages made of vines and creepers with three Na'vi held inside, one per cage.
Two men and one woman. But that wasn't all. Following the Angtsìk, two other creatures approached—beautiful, with radiant and stunning colors, making me appreciate once more the beauty Pandora held under its dominion.
Watching the two men in the cages closely and noting their armor, I recognized their clan: "Tipani." I hadn't realized I'd said it out loud until a brief look from my mother snapped me back to a serious state, reminding me that this was no time for distractions. However, I caught a fleeting but proud glance from my father. Whether it was because I identified the clan or something else, it was enough to know I had done something right.
"Bring them forward." At my father's command, warriors approached the cages and opened them, dragging the captives out and bringing them bound to where we stood. It was then that shock hit me with full force. Among the three, the woman was an Avatar—a dreamwalker, or in some cases, considered a demon by us Na'vi.
What was truly interesting was that this dreamwalker was the same one I had seen weeks ago, flying over the Ayram Alusìng in a type of helicopter.
"Oel Ngati Kameie," one of the Tipani said. In a recognized act of valor and courage, he greeted my parents, showing respect. This spoke well of them; they either respected the ancient laws or believed that by being respectful, they would be treated with more care.
"Silence!" My father did not return the greeting kindly. Instead, he silenced everyone. Like a theater when a harmonic orchestra finishes its performance, an intoxicating silence spread. Then, my father spoke again.
"For five generations, the Great Pact has remained strong, unbreakable, and secure, based on the agreement that the clans who built it would respect it—and with them, all other clans. The Tipani clan is one of them. Though not part of the pact, they respect it because the alternative is war with the Subaiya clan. And now, after five generations, the Tipani have acted."
"Please, it was not our intention. A Palulukan attacked us. When we tried to turn back, your people found us. If you let us go, we promise not to return." A knot formed in my throat; the boy's desperate plea affected me more than I expected, especially knowing the end that likely awaited them.
The choice now was either to kill them or to cut off a limb and let them return with nothing but a knife. Whichever my father chose, it meant they would likely die—either by the hands of our warriors or by some predator in the jungle.
"Tipani has spoken, and Subaiya responds," was my father's short phrase. I could only sigh, watching as a Risak warrior dismounted his Palulukan and approached the two Tipani with a long knife in hand.
Elkan, as the warrior was named, offered a prayer to Eywa before raising the knife and placing its edge against the throat of the Tipani, who had already closed his eyes, accepting his fate.
"Wait!" The interruption bought the boy time. I looked at my mother, who was the one to stop the execution. Beside her, Me'ra was now present, which made me frown, as I hadn't noticed the moment she arrived. Elkan waited while my mother and Me'ra seemed to have a silent conversation.
"Release them," my mother ordered a few seconds later. I looked at her strangely. Elkan, however, did not hesitate. With his knife still in hand, he cut the vines binding the hands and feet of the two Tipani.
"Eywa has spoken. Take your things. Leave. Do not return, and do not look back. Let this be a sign of the mercy of the Subaiya clan and the Great Mother." The two Tipani stood stunned for a moment—hell, even I was—but it wasn't the time to ask questions. Instead, I remained silent and kept watching.
Fearful that my mother might change her mind, the two Tipani gave thanks and hurried to their mounts, eager to leave as quickly as possible. Not before one of them paused for a moment to cast a brief glance at the dreamwalker.
The two Tipani soon rode off on their massive mounts, followed by thousands of eyes watching their every move. As for the woman who remained, she soon found herself under the yoke of the fierce, aggressive glares of the clan members. While the Tipani were looked down upon because of the pact, the woman in front of me had only been alive this long by pure luck.
I still wondered why they had brought her here instead of killing her the moment she was found. It was no secret that we didn't like dreamwalkers, and the fact that she was still breathing could only be attributed to Eywa.
My mother approached the woman and, with her ceremonial needle, quickly pricked her chest and tasted the blood. "I know you. Grace, teacher of the Omaticaya."
Grace—as it turned out the one controlling the Avatar was named—opened her eyes in surprise.
"You are very far from home. You wander through the jungle, preening like a lost animal while acting like someone foolish and idiotic. Quite strange for you, Teacher." My mother pronounced that last word with what I thought was sarcasm, which almost made me let out a laugh.
"I am here to learn. From you, from all of you. I want to understand Eywa even more, and all that she has created. That is why I am here." She had courage, I'll admit that. Not everyone would have the nerve to speak loudly and without stuttering while thousands of arrows were aimed at them and at least two dozen man-killing beasts were ready to tear their throat out.
Then Me'ra approached Grace, with the wise grace she exuded at all times overflowing with every step. She stood as a force of nature—not just strong, but wise. Her two neural queues occasionally touched parts of Grace's body, causing her emotional points—small patterns that every Na'vi had scattered across their body—to glow at the touch, as if her own body were conversing with Me'ra in unique and mystical ways.
Once Me'ra finished whatever she was doing, she spoke with my mother in their strange, silent way of communicating, and then departed. My mother then came over to us, and seeing her face, I knew she had made a decision regarding Grace.
"We have never had a dreamwalker with us. Years of isolation have left us blind and deaf to the dangers and opportunities that now plague Pandora. We cannot continue like this. She will stay with us. She will learn our way, and with luck, we may cure her madness."
My father said nothing, which was more than enough to understand he agreed. I, for my part, couldn't care less, as long as it didn't involve me or take time away from my self-taught skills.
"It is decided!" my father announced the verdict. "Grace will take our way as her own. She will learn from us, hunt with us, and live with us. It is up to her to survive what our path means. Aleyx will be responsible for preparing her to face the rite of initiation once she is ready. Release her."
As they untied her, I remained serious, looking at my father with gravity. I didn't understand his reasoning as to why I had to be the one to teach her. I hadn't even completed my own training. Wouldn't it be better to leave her in the hands of an actual Gulkan? Someone like Ateyo?
Though I wanted to protest, a sharp, hard look from my mother let me know that nothing would change.
"Wiya!" So, like any sane teenager, I spat out a curse and walked away. My day was officially ruined.