I know that if I die, my only choice is still defending

.𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟.

"This thing, this Quaritch. Whatever he is... He can walk right in here. He can walk right under Eywa's nose," Arya spoke solemnly, her voice heavy with concern as she and Neytan conversed within the confines of their home tent. Neytan's brow furrowed with worry as he absorbed his wife's words. "This is our family. This is our home," he affirmed, his tone tinged with determination.

Arya nodded in agreement, her eyes reflecting the gravity of the situation. "This is about our family. This is about our little ones. Our home," she reiterated, her voice steady despite the turmoil swirling within her.

But Neytan's resolve remained unyielding. "I cannot. You cannot ask this. I cannot leave my People. I will not," he declared firmly, his commitment to his community unwavering. Arya's gaze softened as she reached out to her husband, her touch gentle yet firm. "He's hunting us. He's targeting our family," she explained, her words laced with urgency. Neytan turned away, grappling with the weight of Arya's plea. "You cannot ask this! The children. Everything they've ever known. The forest. This is our home!" he protested, his voice tinged with anguish.

Arya's own anguish was palpable as she met Neytan's gaze. "You think I want to leave! This is my home, the place where I met you and had our children, the children he had under his knife!" she countered, her voice breaking with emotion.

Neytan's resolve wavered, the weight of their dilemma bearing down on him. He retrieved his bow, a symbol of his duty and heritage, from its stand. "My father gave me this bow as he lay dying. And he said protect the People. You're Toruk Makto!" he reminded Arya, his voice thick with emotion. Arya's own resolve solidified as she spoke, her tone unwavering. "And a mother! I don't want to leave but we have got to think of the children and the People. This will protect the People! Quaritch has Spider. And that kid knows everything. He knows where we live, they will get that out of him and come here. If the People harbour us, they will die. Do you understand?" she implored, her words carrying the weight of their shared responsibility.

Neytan sighed heavily, his heart heavy with the burden of their decision. "Look, I got nothing. I got no plan..." Arya's expression shifted, her resolve hardening into determination. "But I can protect this family. That I can do. And for this family I will become the shield or a knife for you all," she declared fiercely.

Tears welled in Neytan's eyes as he met Arya's gaze, his love and admiration for her evident. Arya approached him, her touch gentle yet reassuring as she spoke softly. "I know one thing. Wherever we go... this family is our fortress," she affirmed.

Neytan pulled her into a strong embrace, finding solace in the strength and love they shared. Unbeknownst to them, their children listened intently to the weighty conversation, their own hearts heavy with the gravity of their family's plight.

༄༄

As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting a golden hue over the sacred grounds, The People congregated by the revered Tree of Souls. Neytan, his presence dignified and commanding, stood tall among them, flanked by a seasoned Na'vi warrior, a symbol of strength and unity.

Mo'at, the spiritual leader of the clan, approached Neytan with solemn reverence, her steps measured and deliberate. With a sense of goodbye, she took the Olo'eyktan, the sacred emblem of leadership, and placed it over the head of the Na'vi warrior standing beside Neytan.

Arya stood nearby, her gaze filled with sorrow and reverence, her children gathered around her, their eyes wide with sadness.

"This is like stones in my heart. Tarsem is wise for his years. He will be a strong Olo'eyktan."

Tarsem turned solemnly to Neytan, who knelt before him with a quiet dignity. The air was heavy with the weight of their impending farewell. With a steady hand, Tarsem drew forth a knife, its glinting blade catching the light as he held it poised above Neytan's chest.

There was a moment, fleeting yet profound, where it seemed as though Tarsem might strike, but instead, he pressed the blade gently against Neytan's chest, drawing forth just a small droplet of blood. The act was symbolic, a gesture of parting and reverence.

As Tarsem met Neytan's gaze, his eyes reflected a profound sense of sorrow and respect. It was a silent farewell, spoken through the language of their shared heritage and the bond forged through countless trials and triumphs.

Neytan, though kneeling, held his head high, his expression stoic yet filled with an unspoken understanding.

"The leader must die."

"So the leader can be born."

With a heavy heart, Neytan led his family forward, their steps steady yet weighed down by the sorrow of parting. Behind them, The People gathered, their tearful farewells echoing through the air, a testament to the profound gratitude they held for the family who had protected and guided them.

Arya walked beside Neytan, her grip on Tuk's hand tight as they moved forward together. She watched Neytan, his attempts to remain strong evident in the lines of his face, yet she could see the tears that escaped his stoic facade. It pained Arya to witness his struggle, her own heart breaking with every tear shed.

Unable to bear the sight of her husband's silent anguish, Arya reached out and clasped his hand in hers, offering a silent gesture of comfort and solidarity. Neytan squeezed her hand in return, finding solace in the unspoken bond they shared.

As they continued their journey forward, Arya caught sight of Jake standing nearby, his presence a silent reassurance in the midst of their sorrow. His nod spoke volumes, conveying a message of understanding and support. Arya met his gaze briefly, finding a measure of strength in his silent encouragement, before turning her gaze away and pressing forward.

With determined resolve, they carried on, their path illuminated by the flickering light of hope and the promise of a new beginning. Ahead, their ikrans awaited, ready to carry them towards an uncertain future, yet filled with the promise of freedom and possibility. Together, they would face whatever challenges lay ahead, drawing strength from their bonds of love and kinship as they embarked on a new chapter of their journey.

"The People will be safe."

Perched upon their ikrans, the wind whipping through their hair, the family soared through the skies of Pandora. Tuk nestled securely in front of Arya, who held her close, offering a reassuring embrace amidst the rush of air.

As they ascended higher, Neytan cast a lingering gaze behind them, his eyes fixed upon the distant silhouette of their home fading into the horizon. It was a poignant moment, the weight of their departure heavy upon them as they bid farewell to the place that had been their sanctuary for so long.

Arya's arms tightened around Tuk, her heart heavy with sorrow as they watched their home vanish from view. Beside her, Neytan shared in her silent grief, his expression mirroring the deep sense of loss that enveloped them.

Together, they held onto each other, drawing strength from the bonds of family and love as they embarked on this new chapter of their journey. Though their hearts were heavy with the weight of goodbye, they carried with them the memories and the spirit of their home, knowing that it would forever remain a part of who they were.

"A mother protects. It's what gives her meaning."

"One life ends. Another begins."

As their journey continued, the family encountered turbulent storms that swept across the ocean waters, lashing at them with relentless rain and fierce winds. Arya acted swiftly, draping her poncho over Tuk to shield her from the worst of the elements, holding her close against the chill of the storm. Tuk nestled into her mother's embrace, finding comfort and warmth amidst the chaos of the tempest.

With determination etched upon their faces, the family pressed forward, their ikrans navigating through the tumultuous skies with grace and resilience. Arya held onto Tuk tightly, her arms a steadfast anchor amidst the tumultuous winds, ensuring her daughter remained safe and secure throughout the storm.

As the moments passed and the storm began to relent, the sun emerged from behind the dark clouds, casting a warm glow upon the waters below. The family flew on, the serene calm of the reef stretching out before them, a welcome respite from the turbulence of the journey.

Neytan glanced over at his wife and children, a sense of pride and concern mingling within him. Despite the weariness etched upon their faces, they pressed on with unwavering determination, their spirits unbroken by the challenges they had faced.

"The sea clans are a world unto themselves. Thousands of islands."

"An unknown territory into which we could just vanish without a trace."

"Are we there yet?" Tuk's tired voice broke through the steady rhythm of their flight, her weary eyes pleading for reassurance.

"Almost," Arya whispered softly, pressing a tender kiss to her daughter's forehead. With each beat of her heart, she urged their ikrans forward, their destination drawing nearer with each passing moment.

As they neared the border between the reef and the sea clan's territory, Arya and Neytan let out their distinctive cries, a traditional announcement to signal their arrival to the People of the sea. The sound echoed across the salty waters, carried on the gentle breeze, as the Na'vi below responded by blowing a horn, a signal of acknowledgment and welcome.

With practiced ease, Arya and her family descended from their ikrans onto the sandy shore, the People gathering cautiously but respectfully, maintaining a safe distance. Arya, her hands raised in a gesture of peace, turned to Neytan, silently urging him to leave his bow aside. Neytan hesitated briefly before acquiescing, tucking the weapon away with a nod of acknowledgment.

"Tuk," Neytan called gently, extending his hand to his daughter. Tuk approached him, her small hand slipping into his as they walked forward together, Arya and Neteyam following closely behind. With each step, they approached the gathered People, their intentions clear as they demonstrated their peaceful intentions and respect for their customs.

As they came to a stop, the People regarded Arya and her family with curious eyes, their gazes lingering on them with a mix of intrigue and uncertainty. Among the crowd, two young Na'vi boys, around the same age as Arya's elder son, caught Neteyam and Lo'ak's attention. With a customary gesture of acknowledgment, they exchanged the Na'vi greeting, "I see you," before the boys approached them, their curiosity piqued.

"Look, what is that? Is that supposed to be a tail?" one of the boys remarked, a hint of amusement in his voice, as he gestured towards the unique appendages of the newcomers. His companion joined in the laughter, their words tinged with mockery.

Arya's protective instincts surged within her, her muscles tensing at the perceived slight against her family. Despite knowing they were just children, she couldn't suppress the urge to defend her loved ones. Neytan sensed her rising tension and gently clasped her hand, his touch a soothing reassurance that calmed her frayed nerves.

Meanwhile, Neteyam and Lo'ak, unfazed by the teasing, turned their attention towards the ocean, their expressions calm and composed. Lo'ak's gaze was drawn to a female Na'vi emerging from the water, her presence captivating him instantly. Neteyam noticed the exchange and smiled knowingly, sharing a silent moment of understanding with father who also smiled.

As the female Na'vi approached, she intervened to halt her brother and his friend from making further jests at Lo'ak and Neteyam's expense. With a gentle admonition, she silenced their laughter and redirected their attention elsewhere. Lo'ak seized the opportunity to greet her, his voice warm and friendly.

"Hey," he called out, eliciting a shy giggle from the young Na'vi woman, who glanced down bashfully in response. Neytan and Neteyam shared a proud smile, witnessing Lo'ak's budding interaction.

Their moment was interrupted by the arrival of the clan leader of the sea People, who descended upon a skimwing, commanding the attention of all present with his authoritative presence.

.𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟.

By: SilverMist707

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