Chapter Text
The village has settled. The soft sounds of water ripples from under and wind whooshes against the woven walls of the Sully Marui. A flicker of bioluminescence glows in the hanging shells above. Jake sits cross-legged, sharpening a blade out of habit more than necessity. And Neytiri is rinsing her hands in a bowl of water, silent and thoughtful. The silence lingers like a hanging fire.
Jake broke it.
"So. That was unexpected."
Neytiri didn't look up.
"Do you mean the sisters? Or the part where Ronal nearly bit her own tongue off?"
Jake let out a dry chuckle.
"All of it. I didn't even know Lerìnyu had kids."
She dried her hands, slowly folding the cloth as if it were delicate. "Not many did," she murmured. "He was... private. Careful. Maybe a bit too careful."
Jake nodded slightly, still sharpening.
"Still, he showed up when it counted. Back then, we needed every scrap of help we could get."
"And he gave it," Neytiri said, "from the edge. Never crossed into the forest."
"Didn't need to. Got us supplies, safe routes. Warned us when RDA ships rerouted east. I respected that." His movement came to a pause. Jake looked up for the first time, watching her.
"D'you ever meet Rahaylo?"
Neytiri shook her head slowly. "Only by name. My mother spoke of her. A warrior. A storm. She didn't walk behind anyone. And when she left, the Tipani stopped speaking of her altogether."
Jake smirked, just faintly. "Sounds like someone I know."
(W rizz...I think)
She gave him a look: half-annoyed and half-amused. But the corner of her mouth betrayed a small smirk. "They walked between worlds," she said, more quietly now. "Now their daughters do the same."
"Yeah." Jake leaned back on his palms, exhaling. "And they're walking straight into ours."
A wave of silence settled again. Not the tense kind. The kind that settled when you knew change had arrived. "Ey'ona's sharp," Jake muttered. "Too sharp for her own good."
"They've lost enough to earn caution," Neytiri said. "We should give them space... but watch their steps."
Jake glanced toward the flap of the pod, the sea's shadow just beyond it. "Ronal's not gonna let this go easily."
Her voice turned softer, "Neither would I. If I were her." The thought hung between them, like the low-humming glow of the shells. Outside, waves whispered over coral and stone, pulling the day away. Quiet and inevitable.
____________________
Tsireya led the two girls through the heart of the village, a few satchels of their belongings slung over her shoulder. Around them, Awa'atlu buzzed with activity. Villagers mending nets, children darting between Marui pods, elders speaking softly near the tidepools. Life continued, as if the arrival of Lerìnyu's daughters hadn't sent a tremor through it just moments before.
Läk walked close beside Tsireya, her eyes wide with awe as she took in the vibrant hues of the coral-covered homes and the sound of waves lapping at the docks. She smiled softly. It's beautiful, she thought. Strange... but beautiful.
Behind them, Ey'ona followed at her own pace. Her steps were quiet, almost careful, as if each one tested the ground beneath her. She wasn't looking around much- not like her sister -but she could feel the weight of eyes on her.
It was subtle: glances from behind woven curtains, half-whispered words just out of earshot. Not enough to be called hostile, but more than enough to make her stomach coil. Ey'ona never liked being looked at. It made her feel exposed, as if people were peeling her open without permission.
Still, she kept her chin up and her posture strong, shifting the strap of her bag on her shoulder and pretending it didn't matter.
They're just curious, she told herself. It's not like they remember.
But she remembered. The whispers. The judgment. The way kids her age used to call her names and ask her if she even belonged here. She remembered pretending not to care, but then caring anyway.
Maybe they're wondering why Rahaylo and Lerìnyu aren't here.
Ouch.
That thought was enough to jab her in the ribs. Her expression twitched, but she kept walking.
"Ey'ona..." a voice said gently to her.
She blinked, snapping out of her thoughts by a few soft taps on her shoulder. It was Tsireya, who had stopped a few steps ahead.
"Hm?" Ey'ona replied, steadying her breath as she caught up.
"We're here."
Ey'ona looked up, and sure enough, their new Marui stood before them, smaller than she expected, but clean and close to the water. A few bundles of supplies had already been dropped off by other villagers, their silhouettes now vanishing into the distance.
Läk immediately padded forward, lifting the reed curtain and peeking inside. "Whoa..." she whispered, stepping in without hesitation. "It smells like shells in here. And seaweed. I love it."
Tsireya smiled softly and set down the satchel she had been carrying. She turned to Ey'ona, who hadn't moved yet.
"It's simple," Tsireya offered gently, "but I made sure it would be comfortable. You'll have privacy, and the breeze is nice in the evenings."
"Thank you," Ey'ona said quietly. Her tone was neutral, but sincere.
For a moment, the only sounds were the calls of distant ilu and the quiet rustle of the tide below.
"So," Tsireya began, breaking the silence with a casual air, "tomorrow we'll be practicing ilu riding again - a group lesson. You should come."
Ey'ona raised an eyebrow, almost caught off guard by how light the offer was. "With who?"
"The Sully kids, Rotxo, Ao'nung... you know, the usual chaos," Tsireya chuckled. "We've got a lot of newbies now, so it won't feel like you're behind. Läk can join in too if she wants."
Inside the Marui, Läk stuck her head out through the curtain. "I do want to!" she chirped. "I want to ride one like you do, Reya. All graceful and fast!"
Tsireya laughed. "It takes practice, but I'll help you."
Ey'ona hesitated, her gaze drifting toward the open water beyond the village. She remembered the way the ilu moved. Quick, smooth and unpredictable. Like they didn't care if you were watching or not. Her fingers tightened around the strap of her satchel.
"I'll think about it," she said.
"Of course." Tsireya's tone remained warm, not pressing. "No pressure. Just... maybe being around the others again won't be as bad as you remember."
Ey'ona's eyes flicked toward her cousin. That choice of words - "as you remember" - wasn't lost on her. Tsireya had always known, even back then, how she'd been treated.
But she let it go. For now.
"Thank you for showing us around," Ey'ona murmured. "Cousin."
Tsireya gave her arm a gentle squeeze before stepping away. "Get some rest. Head on over to the lagoon near the coral reefs if you ever change your mind."
And just like that, she was gone, making her way back through the shallows, her silhouette framed by the golden glow of the sunset.
Ey'ona watched her leave, then turned toward the entrance, where Läk had already begun unfolding a blanket onto one of the reed mats, chatting to herself about the color of the walls and how pretty the shells were.
Maybe, Ey'ona thought, it won't be as bad as I remembered.
_______________________
The sun hung high in the sky, casting golden light over the reef shelf where the ilu training was held. The water shimmered a clear turquoise, small waves wrapping at the ankles of the gathered teens. A few ilu circled lazily nearby, snorting through their blowholes as they waited.
The Sully kids stood off to one side. Neteyam was calm but quiet, Kiri observing with narrowed eyes, Lo'ak visibly irritated, and Tuk half-distracted by a tiny shell crab crawling near her foot. Despite being here for days now, none of them had managed to fully blend in. The stares hadn't stopped. The whispers still floated just out of earshot.
"Come on, hurry up," Ao'nung barked from the center of the sandbar, beginning to drift a good distance into the body of water, already atop his ilu. "We don't have all day to babysit you forest people again."
Lo'ak muttered something under his breath.
"What was that?" Ao'nung said, already grinning like he hoped for a fight.
"Nothing," Neteyam interjected quickly, placing a hand on his brother's shoulder. "We're ready."
Tsireya, swimming nearby, perked up as she saw two new figures approaching along the shallow curve of the reef.
"They made it!" she called, waving them over.
Läk was the first to arrive, practically bouncing with excitement. "This is amazing," she whispered to Ey'ona beside her. "They're so much bigger up close in person!"
Ey'ona kept her expression neutral, her steps calm and deliberate as they entered the training space. Her eyes swept across the group, instantly reading the social tension like a current beneath the surface.
Kiri noticed them first, her head tilting curiously. Tuk smiled wide and waved. Rotxo blinked, nudging Ao'nung with an elbow. "That's them. Lerìnyu's girls."
Läk was already bounding toward the shoreline, eyes sparkling with excitement as she spotted the creatures flicking their fins across the shallows. “Eywa… they’re beautiful!”
Ey’ona followed, slower, but with a graceful, self-assured gait. Her expression was unreadable, but her eyes missed nothing. The way Ao’nung’s smirk twitched at the sight of them, the quick glance Neteyam cast in her direction before looking away, the tension in the air as the group adjusted to the addition of two more “outsiders.”
“You brought them?” Ao’nung called to Tsireya, raising an eyebrow. “What is this. Training or a family reunion?”
Tsireya’s smile didn’t falter. “Training and a family reunion,” she replied sweetly, beginning to step out of the water to meet them halfway. “Is that a problem?”
Ao’nung rolled his eyes but didn’t push it. Rotxo gave a lazy shrug and swam back toward his own ilu.
"Ignore them," Tsireya whispered, stepping up towards her cousins. "Just do your best."
"I always do," Ey'ona replied simply, her voice calm but firm. Not cold, but clear. She wasn't here to entertain anyone's disrespect.
"Everyone," Tsireya announced, turning to the group, "this is Ey'ona and Läk. They'll be joining us for training today."
No one clapped. No one cheered.
Just a few nods, some raised brows.
"Hi!" Läk waved brightly, undeterred by the silence. "Nice to meet you guys!"
Kiri smiled faintly and Tuk gave a small wave back. The boys said nothing.
"We're working on mounting and underwater maneuvers today," Tsireya continued, smoothly ignoring the awkwardness. "Pairs can help each other if needed."
As the others moved toward their ilus, Läk followed Tsireya, chatting excitedly and asking questions. Ey'ona lingered at the edge of the water, crouching by one of the nearby ilu. She clicked her tongue softly, brushing her fingers gently along its neck. It gave a small, pleased rumble.
"You good with them?" a voice asked.
Ey'ona glanced up to find Neteyam standing nearby, his arms resting casually at his sides.
"I used to ride," she said. "Long time ago."
He nodded, not pressing. "It looks like they remember you. That's rare."
Ey'ona tilted her head, studying him briefly. "You're the oldest."
"Guilty."
"Figures."
A ghost of a smirk touched her lips, but it vanished quickly as Ao'nung's voice cut across the water. "Ey'ona, you coming? Or do you need Tsireya to hold your hand too?"
She stood, gaze steady. "I didn't realize we were racing to impress you."
The group fell silent. Even Lo'ak raised his eyebrows.
Ao'nung blinked. For once, he didn't have a comeback, taken aback by Ey'ona — the pushover he once knew was now replaced by controlled defiance this time around.
The silence that followed was sharp. Tense like a string pulled too tight. Ao’nung shifted his weight, his usual smug expression faltering as Ey’ona’s gaze pinned him to the sand. She hadn’t said another word, but she didn’t have to. The warning in her eyes, cool and steady, was louder than anything she could’ve shouted.
Tsireya, sensing the atmosphere stiffen, stepped forward with the ease of someone used to smoothing over her brother’s messes.
“Alright,” she said gently, her voice like water over stone, “let’s get back to it.”
She clapped her hands once, drawing everyone's focus. “We’ll work in pairs. One rider, one guide in the water. Rotate after two passes. Ey’ona amd Läk, I’ll start with you.”
There was no room for protest in her tone, only calm authority. The group slowly loosened up again, the tension dispersing like mist in morning air. Ey’ona broke her stare and moved forward without a word, and just like that the lesson continued.
Ey'ona gave a slight huff, clicking softly to the ilu as she stepped into the water.
As the training resumed, tension hung in the air like salt. But something had shifted. The Sully kids noticed it. The Metkayina did too. Ey'ona wasn't just another outsider. She wasn't even trying to fit in. She was simply being herself, unapologetically.
And somehow, that made the isolation feel just a little less heavy.