sunflowers33ds

Teylan walked so close to you that your shoulders occasionally brushed against each other.

“What if she looks at us and sees only what the humans made us?” Teylan’s voice was so worried as he whispered to Ri'nela. “What if she doesn’t want to see us because of that?”

Before she could offer a word of comfort, Tsu'lo, the Ke’awa leader, finally came into view, his back to you all. He didn’t turn when you approached, but his ears flicked in acknowledgment.

“Something tells me you all have some questions,” Tsu’lo chuckled as he turned.

You stepped forward, your hand reaching back to find Teylan’s. “Ri'nela says there is a woman. Rasi. You’ve known these peaks longer than any of us and better. Tsu’lo, is it true? Has there been another Sarentu out there all this time?”

“I knew there was another Na’vi, a loner, one who kept to themselves and the wind, doing no harm. I did not know they were Sarentu. I would have said something to our guest sooner had I known.”

“And none of the scouts ever talked to her?” You pressed, ears flicking back, desperate for an answer for the Sarentu you were quickly becoming fond of. “Not even once?”

Tsu’lo’s eyes got a knowing look in them as he placed his hands on your shoulders. “Easy now, child. She has been evading our scouts and hunters. Like I said, a loner. Never giving us a reason to bother them, so why should we?” He asked and glanced at the two behind you. “I am sorry that I am not more help. Maybe your friend will bring more news.” He offered his condolences in few words, causing you to let out a heavy sigh.

The air in the caves felt heavy to you after Tsu’lo’s words, the flicker of hope you had moments ago now gone, crushed by the reality of Rasi’s solitude. Teylan’s hand was still in yours, his grip tightening a little to offer you comfort, which made your heart squeeze. You felt like you should be the one comforting him.

“I thought I could help you more…” Your tail gave a frustrated twitch.

“So she really doesn’t want to be around anyone,” he murmured, his voice sounding small.

A screech echoed, the distinct call of a returning ikran. You all turned as Tamtey stumbled into the fire-lit caves, her eyes landing on her friends with a mixture of relief and exhaustion.

Ri’nela and Teylan didn’t hesitate; they were at Tamtey's side in a blink. Ri’nela grabbed her arms gently. “You are okay. We were so worried; they said they saw you get shot from the sky. We looked everywhere.”

Tamtey's eyes crinkled a bit as she smiled. “Not everywhere.” She glanced down at her hands, and Teylan finally spoke up.

“Is it really true? Another Sarentu?”

You stayed close enough to listen, your curiosity too intense even though you knew it was rude to eavesdrop.

“I do not want to imagine how she survived. All she witnessed. It must have been terrifying.” Ri’nela’s ears flattened, and she shook her head, her hand waving in front of her as if she could wipe away the thought. “Alma’s memories were bad enough, but she just watched. Rasi had to endure it. And then live with the pain.”

Tamtey frowned, and she looked at her friends solemnly; it was clear on her face that she was unsure what to do, and you couldn’t help but speak up.

“Maybe you could all talk to her, show her who you are now,” you suggested, taking a few steps forward to join their conversation.

Ri’nela nodded in agreement, standing straighter. “Show her we are no longer scared children under the RDA’s control. We survived too. After all she’s been through alone. She needs to see how strong we can be together.”

Tamtey’s eyes sparkled with a bit of mischief. “Sounds like you have a plan.”

“The beginnings of one.”

Ri’nela shared a glance with Teylan, and suddenly, despite the topic at hand, he started to brighten, his eyes lighting up as he spoke.

“You know how the RDA are using those aerial convoys to transport mountain materials, right?”

You watched Teylan speak, his tail swishing back and forth almost rhythmically. However, you were lost on most of what he was saying beyond mountain materials. Regardless, the more you saw of Teylan, the more you wished to be close to him. Even now as he spoke too quickly, you were absolutely enamored with the passion he had.

“That 3D printer they built is a pretty big deal. Get this. It’s called a 'Grinder.'” Teylan’s voice carried a level of awe as he continued, “It churns out components for the RDA, but not just here. All across the Western Frontier. AMP suits, weapons, even aircraft.”

You were still incredibly confused with Teylan’s information dump, and your eyes flicked to Tamtey, whose face was neutral as Teylan spoke besides the occasional ear twitching, before you responded anything, “So, we shut that down and… no more sky people in the Spires?” You were starting to get the hang of the plan, or at least you hoped.

Teylan interjected, happy his idea was being heard and understood. “Exactly!” But as quickly as he said it, his face sort of fell. “I wasn’t able to get much info on the grinder. I got distracted trying to fix my radio…” You watched his cheeks flush, and your heart was suddenly pounding in your ears. “But there are a few RDA sites with comm links to the base. They’re sure to have a lot of daily logs. Maybe they’ll have what we need.”

“Then let us go. No time to waste,” So’lek suddenly interjected, looking at Tamtey with softening eyes, happy to see her.

“Good to see you, So'lek,” Tamtey greeted. “Glad you’re joining us.”

“When have I ever said no to a fight? Good to see you are still standing,” he spoke with an almost amused tone.

Ri’nela gave both of them side eyes before speaking up. “Let us take a location each and radio when we find something.” She gestured to you, “Tsu’lo’s people already agreed to support us in the search.”

By the time you and Teylan reached the perimeter of the RDA comm site, the new day had come and gone, leaving the sky draped in a heavy, bruised violet dusk. You crouched low behind a ridge of damp stone, the air stinging your lungs. It had been another grueling trek, and you were glad for a chance to catch your breath, especially now as you neared the strangely fluorescent-lit outpost. The ground itself seemed to be dead yet vibrating the closer you got. It made your ears flatten, and you instinctively got in a more defensive position.

“Are we going in the right direction?” you whispered to him. It was a silly question, but you clearly didn’t like where you were going.

Teylan felt an urge to comfort you and moved closer. “It is okay; I am scared too,” he admitted, his breath ghosting against your ear, making you shiver as he looked back towards the outpost. “The terminal is inside.” He was pressed so close to your side that you could feel the rise and fall of his chest. Teylan pointed down toward a small, reinforced metal cabin topped with a spinning dish. “If I can get to it, I can hack into the system and find something useful. But I don't know how we're getting around the guards…”

You turned your head, finding his face so close to yours that his amber eyes seemed to swallow the dim light of the dusk. The faint pulse of his bioluminescent dots was the only beautiful thing in the shadows of the RDA. He looked terrified, yet there was a stubborn, fierce determination in his posture that made your heart swell. You didn’t have to ask him to know. He was doing this for the Sarentu, his family.

A beam of light cut directly toward your position, and thinking quickly, you lunged backward, pulling Teylan into the narrow crevice of a split boulder with you. Your breath hitched, and you could hear how Teylan’s had caught in his throat as the light washed over the outer edges of the rock, just inches away. It was horrible timing to suddenly be taken with the fact that he had gripped onto you, pulling you flush against him as you both pressed tightly to the rocks. The light finally passed, leaving you both in the dusk once more. Teylan let out a shaky exhale, his forehead briefly resting against yours.

“Too close,” he whispered, a nervous, breathless edge to his voice.

“I have you,” you breathed back, your hand sliding up his arm to give a reassuring squeeze before peering out around the edge of the boulder. “Come. Before the light returns.”

Slipping out of the crevice, you both became shadows among the shadows. You kept yourself low, your eyes scanning the area for any way in or any soldiers looking your way. You darted behind another large rock, inching yourself closer and closer to the outpost, Teylan quick on your heels; the only giveaway that he was following you was the fall of his footsteps on the gravel, quiet but unmistakable to your sharp senses.

Peering around the edge of the rock, you zeroed in on the cabin door. Your ears flattened. Standing right in front was an RDA soldier, an assault rifle resting casually against his chest. He was shifting his weight from foot to foot idly. He wasn't going anywhere on his own. Teylan took in the obstacle from behind you.

He looked at you; his tail twitched. Sharp and anxious. A silent, frantic question written across his face. You could only give him a small, reassuring nod before you turned your attention back to the problem at hand. You spotted a loose pile of discarded metal pipes sitting just at the edge of the floodlights close by the cabin. Keeping your body pressed to the rock, you crouched down. Your fingers swept across the gravel until they wrapped around a heavy stone. With a deep breath, you angled your arm and sent the rock sailing.

CLANG!

The stone struck the pipes squarely; the sharp ringing sliced through the quiet. The guard jumped, his hands instantly snapping to his rifle.

“What the hell was that?” he grunted, stepping away from the door to investigate the corner where the noise had come from.

“Now,” you whispered.

Before the guard could even take a third step toward the noise, you and Teylan ran across the open gap, melting into the deep shadow right next to the cabin. Teylan didn’t waste a single heartbeat. He pulled out a small hacking tool. You stood flush against the cold metal wall, your bow gripped tight as you kept your eyes trained on the path for the returning guard.

Despite the gravity of your situation, you couldn't help but let your gaze drift back to Teylan. His intense focus and brilliance when he was in his element completely captivated you. Your heart pounded against your ribs all over again, and it had absolutely nothing to do with the RDA soldier wandering nearby. You snapped your attention back to the path when you heard a soft hiss of air.

“I'm in,” Teylan whispered, a triumphant, quiet thrill in his voice.

You slipped into the small, sterile cabin right behind him, the heavy door sliding shut with another soft hiss. It smelled strongly of something awful that you could never really place. A scent that was unique to the Sky People's structures. Flickering lights from the computer terminal threw shadows across the metal walls. Teylan didn't hesitate; he moved directly toward the console, his fingers immediately flying across a keyboard with speed that left you slightly breathless. You kept your back pressed near the entrance, an arrow still resting against your bowstring as you watched the small window on the door. Out in the night, the silhouette of the guard was still visible, pacing slowly back toward his post, completely oblivious.

You once again let your attention drift back to Teylan, who was muttering under his breath, the blue glare of the monitor reflecting in his wide amber eyes while his tail flicked in concentration. Watching him have such fierce confidence made that familiar warmth pool in your chest. Earlier, he had seemed so weighed down by the ghost of a clan he didn't know how to find. But here, you were seeing he was a force of his own. Suddenly, a progress bar flashed across the screen, and a low chime echoed through the quiet room. Teylan let out a triumphant hmph.

“I've got th—”

A heavy clunk rattled the cabin door. You both fell quiet. You snapped your head around, holding your breath. Outside, the shadow of the guard was right at the glass. He had finished checking the pipes and was back at his station right outside the door. If he stepped through that door, he’d see you and Teylan, raise the alarm, and the whole base would obliterate you before you could take a step. Instinct took over.

You motioned for Teylan to get low and out of sight, just in case. He was quick to listen, curling himself a bit under the metal desk, the freshly downloaded drive clutched tightly in his hand. You spun back to the entrance, flattening yourself flush against the metal wall right beside the door frame, melting into the blind spot. You dropped your bow; no room to draw an arrow here.

Pssssshhhhh.

The automated door hissed open; the human soldier stepped inside, cursing under his breath. “Stupid automated locks,” he grunted, walking in without bothering to look around.

You didn’t give him the chance to either. Before the door could even begin to slide shut again, you lunged from the shadows. With a swift, practiced motion, you drove the hilt of your knife against the side of his head and, with a groan, the soldier's body went entirely limp in your arms. You held his weight for a breathless second, listening intently. No one seemed to be alerted.

“Teylan,” you whispered, voicing a shaky breath. “It is clear. We need to move.” You dropped the human to the side, into the corner you had hidden in, hopefully keeping him out of sight until you were both long gone.

Teylan scrambled out from beneath the desk, his hands trembling slightly as he looked from the unconscious soldier back to you. The starry-eyed awe you were growing so fond of began to replace the fear in his eyes. He swallowed hard, his cheeks flushing a faint violet even in the dark as he held up the data drive.

“I—I have it,” Teylan stammered, his voice dropping to a tense, worried whisper as he remembered what was going on. You didn't have much time before someone noticed the guard was missing from his post.

You peered through the small window of the door, watching the floodlight do its sweep again waiting until it left their path of escape in darkness once more.

“Then we leave. Now,” you said, pulling him toward the door.

The night air hit your face once more; you practically scrambled over the gravel before the patrol headlights could sweep across the path, both of you staying low and holding your breath again as if that would help keep you hidden. Once you hit safety, you finally let out a ragged breath and leaned against a large boulder. For a long moment, the only sound was the ragged pattern of your breathing. The adrenaline finally began to ebb, leaving you trembling slightly.

“You… you were amazing,” Teylan whispered from beside you, and a blush crept up his neck. “When that door opened, I thought—I thought it was over. I thought they had us. But you didn't even hesitate.”

A genuine smile tugged at your lips. Seeing him look at you like that made your heart do a strange, fluttery kick. You shifted closer, your shoulder catching his, offering your warmth.

“I told you I had you,” you replied back. “And you were amazing too. We would not have done any of this without you, Teylan.”

“I just… I kept thinking about what Ri'nela said. If Rasi is out there, and she's survived all this time alone… We have to show her who the Sarentu are now.” He held up the drive, his face lighting up. “I got the layout for the entire base. The full schematics. It’s all here, and I think it will help us.”

His radio crackled to life, a voice coming through the speaker with an air of hopelessness. “Teylan. Ri'nela and So'lek are with me. The base with the grinder is protected by air turrets; there is no way through. We’re hoping you two have some good news.”

“I think I got something. I’ll need more time to look it through, but if I’m right, this should give us all the information needed to stop the RDA.”

“Then we still have a chance. We’ll come to you.”

The rain was a different experience out in Pandora. In the TAP facility it was always something seen from a distance, if seen at all. Here, in the Kinglor Forest, you could feel, taste, and smell the sweetness. A few steps away, So’lek was just outside the cover. He remained utterly indifferent to the rain; it slicked his dark hair back and ran in small streams over the rusted RDA dog tags hanging off his gear. He was cleaning his hunting knife, his movements practiced. You watched him for a long moment, finding a strange sense of safety in his routine, before looking back at the churning sky. Looking up at the sky was like staring at Eywa herself, overwhelming and terrifyingly beautiful.

Since escaping the prison that was TAP, you had made a silent vow to spend every waking moment beneath the open sky. Even now, as the rain pounded against the broad, waxy leaves of the fortune’s fruit trees, you stayed put. You didn't mind the occasional droplet that found its way around the leaf you were under to splash against your skin. It was proof this was real. It was proof you were out.

You let your head tilt back until it rested against the sturdy trunk of the tree. A stray raindrop splashed directly onto your forehead and tracked a slow path down your cheek. Today had been a lot, a weight you weren't sure how to carry. Ka’nat remained unconvinced of joining the Resistance, and the rest of the Aranahe still treated you with suspicion and kept their distance. It seemed pointless. The Sarentu were supposed to be the diplomats, the ones who understood the hearts of the clans and wove their stories together. But you were a fraud, a hollow shell of what the Sarentu were.

As if he could sense you spiraling, So’lek finally spoke.

“Ka’nat is not ready to face the truth,” he said firmly, but you still felt the gentleness of it. “The Aranahe will see soon.”

“Ka’nat looks at me and sees a Sarentu shaped by the Sky People’s ways.” Your voice was thick with a bitterness you couldn't hide. “He’s right to give me the cold shoulder. I don’t even know our own stories. How am I supposed to unite the people when I can’t even find my path?”

So’lek moved then. He stepped out of the downpour and under one of the leaves near where you were. He didn’t sit immediately; he stood with his back to the trunk, his yellow eyes scanning the treeline with that protective vigilance that had become your constant.

“He has already seen the ways the RDA can destroy,” So’lek said, his voice low. “He saw his mate die. He saw his people retreat into the shadows of the Hometree, thinking that silence would buy them safety. When he looks at you, he sees the reminder of that fear.”

Your ears twitched back, flattened against your head. The words weren’t a comfort; instead, they made you feel like a walking omen. You reached to fiddle with the songcord So’lek had crafted for you, wrapped around your forearm. You ran your thumb over the few beads, each a fragment of an identity he was helping you rebuild piece by agonizing piece. You could never put into words what those beads meant to you. Looking at him again, he was always so steady in your eyes, unyielding. You got a sharp, familiar ache in your chest. He was the only Na’vi older than you who didn't look at you with fear or pity. He looked at you like a teacher, a guardian... a father. It made you miss the parents you could hardly remember, people whose faces were lost to Mercer’s cruelty, leaving behind only the faint memory of the love and warmth you used to have.

So'lek finally shifted, sinking down to sit on a patch of moss beside you. He didn't offer a soft touch, that wasn't his way, but he sat close enough that you could feel the warmth radiating from him, a stark contrast to the chill from the rain.

“They gave you their words, yes. They gave you their metal, but you are finding your own way, Sarentu. The Sky People can never take that from you.” He leaned back, his presence a solid, unbreakable wall between you and the rest of the world. “Do not let Ka'nat's fear tell you who you are."

The moment was suddenly broken by a sound that definitely didn't come from the forest. It was your stomach, a loud and insistent growl at that. Heat rushed to your ears, their tips twitching. You had been so caught up in continuing your clan’s legacy that you’d completely forgotten you hadn't eaten since before sunrise.

So’lek didn't laugh, not really the type for outward mirth, but the light in his eyes softened into something almost teasing. His eyes traveled from your midsection back to your face, a ghost of a smile dancing on his features.

He gestured toward the area beyond your resting spot, the rain finally beginning to mist into a light haze.

“Show me what this Itu taught you.” He gave a pointed glance at your bow. “Or should I have taken you into the forest myself?”

So’lek didn’t say it, but the line of his shoulders tightened at the mention of Itu. To him, Ka’nat needing you to "prove" your worth was a needless insult. You had survived a hell they couldn’t imagine; you had already proven everything by simply continuing to live.

“Itu taught me well enough," you said, pushing yourself up from the moss with a newfound energy. You checked the tension on your bowstring, your fingers moving with a confidence that surprised even you. The frustration that bubbled up earlier vanished, replaced by a sudden spark of excitement. You wanted to show him. You wanted to prove that you weren't just a Sarentu shaped by Sky People, but a hunter shaped by him.

"Teylan," you said, your voice barely a whisper.

He didn't hear you. You didn’t know whether he was trapped in his thoughts or waiting for a voice that wasn't coming back. The clouds coming in on the horizon were now eating the sun, which had once warmed your backs. The temperature dropped and you felt the moisture in the air; it would start raining soon.

"Teylan!" you said louder, reaching out to grip his shoulder. He flinched, eyes wide when they met yours.

"She was trying to tell me something," his voice cracked as he continued. "She sounded... she sounded worried."

"We need to go," you said, quickly grabbing your pouch in haste. "Look at the clouds. It is going to rain any moment now."

He didn't move to help you pack. He looked back toward the ridge where the smoke was thickest. "If I had just fixed it sooner... if I had been smarter..."

"Teylan, please. We do not have time for this. If we stay here, you will not be able to tell your friends what you heard," you snapped, hoping the sharpness would pull him out of whatever he was stuck in right now.

————————————————

Your early worry had finally manifested into reality. The first drop of rain fell; it struck the dry stone, leaving a dark stain on the previously dull grey rock. It was followed immediately by another, and then, with a roll of thunder, the sky greyed entirely and finally broke.

You had just reached the patch of puffball trees that had offered such joy to you only hours before. Now their massive tops were saturated and heavy with the sudden rainfall, drooping sadly toward the muddy ground. To you, they looked like they were mourning, bowing their heads in grief. You had a brief thought that the Great Mother herself was weeping.

The walk back home felt like an entirely different day from when you’d left with Teylan. The rain soaked through both of you entirely, the fabric of your clothes clinging to you like a cold, second skin. You looked back at Teylan, reaching out and catching his hand just as he lost his balance on the slick ground.

“We are almost there; watch your footing."

You didn’t let go of his hand after that, and Teylan once again gripped your hand in return. That flickering orange glow of the clan’s fires finally came into view through the sheets of rain; you expected to feel that familiar rush of relief. But as you pulled Teylan towards shelter faster, you found yourself suddenly dreading your arrival.

A group was gathered near one of the entrances: Kame'tire hunters and scouts, as well as Ri’nela and So’lek. Both had returned from their travels. Ri'nela looked up the moment you entered, her expression a mask of controlled anxiety. So'lek, besides her, had his arms crossed over his chest, his eyes fixed on the entrance as if he had been waiting to see someone return.

Teylan let go of your hand, pushing past you. "Tamtey... my radio lost the signal; she was trying to tell us something. She said the RDA and something to do with the mountain. Ri'nela, have you heard from her, or have you, So'lek?”

Ri'nela didn't speak. She looked toward So'lek with an unsure expression.

"She has not returned. And she is not answering me." So'lek's voice was calm and matter of fact. “I am going to go out and look for her. There are already scouts looking as we speak.”

Ri’nela stepped towards Teylan, grabbing his shoulders gently. "They say they saw her fall, shot out of the sky by the RDA."

Teylan went rigid, but he didn’t attempt to move himself or Ri’nela’s hands; he found comfort in her. It was as if she could see the way Teylan’s spirit dimmed; he often seemed to be questioning what was real and what was all a lie. He was coming to find out most everything was a lie.

“Shot down,” Teylan repeated what Ri’nela had said, not in a questioning tone but as a way to solidify the information she’d given him. “She was just scouting this time.”

He stopped looking at Ri'nela's face and looked toward one of the cave entrances. The voice of Alma reminding them, "Humans, the RDA, are here to help you and other Na’vi alike," played in his head like a sick joke. Then, he looked at So'lek, a man he looked up to as a great Na’vi warrior, someone who had witnessed the RDA’s “help” turn into chaos and death too many times.

"With the RDA, it is never that simple."

He would have looked back to Ri’nela to seek more of her gentle affection and advice, but his eyes searched yours instead, looking for some kind of middle ground for the war in his head that didn't exist. You looked up at him, your hands holding onto his. You leaned in, keeping his gaze.

"The RDA does not want peace. They want to own. And they cannot own the people. Remember you are all Sarentu; you will show them how strong you are together. I am sure she will be found.”

Ri’nela usually felt compelled to stay and comfort Teylan, used to being that strength for all the Sarentu, but seeing the way you steadied him and the connection the two of you seemed to have after such a short time of knowing each other, she could tell she was leaving Teylan in good hands. Though she wouldn’t be going out to look for Tamtey with So’lek herself, she still broke away to talk to him before he took off.

You kept your hands in Teylan's; his fingers were cold and trembling a bit. He didn’t pull away from you; if anything, he leaned into your space more, his head dipping low until his forehead almost brushed against yours. The fear and stress of the situation still pressed heavy on his mind, but the curve of your palms and the warmth of your breath filled something in his chest he was unfamiliar with, unaware it was something he was missing. You shifted your grip, sliding your fingers up to wrap around his wrists, feeling the uneven thrum of his heartbeat.

“Teylan," you noticed his still tense posture and wanted to soothe him in some way. He let out a shaky breath, his shoulders still rigid. For a second, his gaze dropped to your lips before darting back to your eyes, a flash of embarrassment at these new feelings flooding his body. "Come, you are shivering.”

You began to lead him away from Ri’nela, So'lek, and the other scouts. The main area where the clan gathered was a chaotic whirlwind of scouts preparing to leave. But you pulled Teylan deeper into the heart of the Kame’tire home, away from it all. The world seemed to settle, heavy with the scent of smoldering woodsmoke and the wafting aroma of Zat making Ikran treats. You knew the way to go, passing by the communal fires. Teylan walked next to you in a daze, his boots scraping against the rough stone. He looked like he was vibrating, proof the battle was still going on in his mind.

"Here," you whispered, pulling back a delicately woven curtain that led into a small, secluded alcove.

This was your sanctuary, a homey corner tucked away from the prying eyes of the rest of the clan. It wasn’t much. The walls were lined with bundles of herbs hanging to dry, weaving patterns you had tried to master now used to drown out any outside noise, and a simple sleeping mat sat close by a small, contained hearthstone in the center that radiated a gentle, constant heat.

"Sit," you commanded softly.

"I should be out there," he muttered, his voice cracking. "I could... I could try to—“

You stopped him before he could continue. “Sit.”

It was a firmer command this time that made Teylan immediately drop to the mat you gestured to. He still looked toward the entrance, his tail twitching as if he were still contemplating going back.

"Teylan," you knelt in front of him, reaching out to drape a dry blanket down over his tense shoulders. As you tucked the edges around him, your hands lingered near his chest. You could feel the heat radiating from his skin now, a contrast to the damp chill of his clothes.

He finally met your eyes. The embarrassment from earlier was still there, a faint flush of purple around his cheekbones, but beneath it was a profound, aching vulnerability. He reached up, his fingers tentatively brushing against yours where they rested on the edge of the blanket. Teylan was wracking his brain for any excuse or reason behind the RDA’s actions, behind the mindless violence and destruction. A protocol. A necessary measure. But there wasn’t one. Just the cold reality that the RDA was never here to live in peace with the Na’vi, that Mercer never cared for them beyond the asset they were to TAP. Teylan hated grappling with these feelings and often bottled them right back up, but the truth was harder to ignore.

“I keep trying to come up with a reason," he admitted, his voice dropping low, barely audible over the rain. "Every time they do something bad, hurt someone, I try to find the reason. Because if there is a reason, a good reason, it means it isn't personal. It means they aren't just... monsters…”

Over the last few months of finally being in their home, Pandora, Teylan had begun unlearning the carefully constructed lies of Mercer and the gentle, misguided reassurances of Alma, leaving behind a raw, bleeding wound that he had continually tried to avoid. You fell quiet; the weight of his past was a heavy burden on his shoulders.

“Because if they are monsters, then what does that make me? I learned their ways. I use their tools. I think like them.” He looked down at his hands, unmistakably Na’vi, yet his mind felt like it was struggling to be human. You leaned in, closing the small gap between you until your knees pressed against his.

"It makes you a survivor, Teylan. Not a monster.”

You reached up, your fingers grazing the line of his jaw before cupping his cheek. Teylan’s breath hitched, a small, shuddering sound that seemed to catch in his throat. His eyes fluttered shut as he surrendered to the contact, the simple, unearned tenderness you were offering warred with the guilt and shame he felt for receiving it.

His hand moved from the edge of the blanket, his fingers hovering near your wrist before he finally found the courage to gently take your hand back into his, his thumb tracing the patterns of your skin with a hesitant, reverent touch.

“When I look at you, I don’t feel like I’m thinking like them anymore. I just feel… quiet. Content?”

“We can just sit here until you are ready,” you murmured and moved so you could sit next to him more comfortably.

The heat from the fire had finally done its job. The shivering had stopped, replaced by a peaceful stillness. Teylan had eventually succumbed to his exhaustion, his head resting against your shoulder, his fingers still loosely entwined with yours. For a few hours, the two of you remained like that, a much needed rest for the Na’vi next to you.

That peace was broken when the woven curtain at the entrance brushed aside with a rustle. You looked up, your hand instinctively tightening around Teylan’s as he stirred. It was Ri’nela. She looked exhausted, but her eyes were wide, filled with brightness and hope. She paused when she saw the two of you; a fleeting, knowing softness crossed her face before the urgency of why she found you took over again.

"He is awake?" she asked, her voice hushed in case he was sleeping.

Teylan sat up abruptly, the blanket sliding down his shoulders. The daze of sleep vanished instantly, replaced by that familiar anxiety. "Is there news? Did they find her?"

Ri’nela shook her head, but she was smiling. “Tam’tey spoke to me through my radio.” She knelt down by Teylan. “There’s another Sarentu, Teylan!” Her voice was brimming with emotion.

“Is she okay? What do you mean, ‘another Sarentu’?”

He had so many questions now; Ri’nela grabbed his shoulders. “She said her name is Rasi, another Sarentu!” She said it again with so much awe; Teylan’s eyes shimmered in a similar way.

“This Rasi, she’s coming back with Tamtey?”

Ri’nela shook her head. “No. She’s in shock, I think. Doesn’t want to see any of us. She thought she was alone. At least that is what Tamtey said." She let out a small sigh and stood. “Maybe there is a way to show that she is not alone and that we can all be a family again, Sarentu.”

She offered Teylan help, which he gladly accepted. "There is so much she could teach us.” She continued, "Our history, songs.”

You stood to follow them. “Tsu’lo always knows the comings and goings of the spires. Maybe he knows of Rasi?” you offered. It wasn’t much, but perhaps he could provide even the tiniest bit more information for them.

Ri’nela and Teylan looked at you. To them, the idea of another Sarentu out there felt like a prayer answered, especially after they believed their clan had been fully massacred except for the small group from TAP.

"A family," Teylan whispered. "We... we could be a real clan?"

Ri’nela squeezed his hand one last time before turning toward the exit. "We should go and talk to Tsu’lo. Try to have some answers for Tam’tey when she returns.”

As you stepped out of the comfort you had created with Teylan into the main part of your home again, the atmosphere had shifted. The rain had lulled, with no plinking like wind chimes against the stone. The hum of conversation replaced the howl of the wind. News always traveled fast among the Ke’awa.

The afternoon sun was a relentless heat against the stone floor as you finished packing your satchel. You knew the Spires would likely cool quickly, despite the way the sun hurt your eyes currently. You paused by the communal baskets around, your fingers hovering over some freshly harvested fruit. You chose a few heavy, orangish sweet fruits and tucked them into your wrap for later. Teylan was already standing by the trailhead, shifting his weight from foot to foot, his eyes fixed on the radio as if he could force it to work through sheer willpower so he could avoid this climb all together.

“You look like you are holding your breath," you noted, adjusting the strap of your satchel. "The climb will not be that bad."

Teylan looked up with worried eyes. "I just want to get this over with. The longer we are here, the longer we wait for Tamtey..." 

“Take a breath." You moved closer to him; you smelled of woodsmoke and rain, a scent Teylan was beginning to find comforting. "I am sure we will be fine, this will be nothing for you" you gestured to the mountains  

He sighed but didn’t say anything further, despite the multiple fears and concerns he had on his mind. "You are right, we should go. Not too fast though..."

The path towards your destination was filled with moss-covered rocks and large puffball trees, their seeds blowing in the wind, a little dance you found joy in as you passed by. Teylan walked behind you cautiously, watching his every step to make sure he didn’t trip on a stray rock, and any noise he found strange made his ears twitch back.

“It is just the animals, Teylan; they will not bother us." You said to calm him, brushing your hand against his.

He didn’t pull his hand away; he instead curled his fingertips around yours. "What if they are dangerous? Mercer always said Pandora was a very dangerous planet. That everything here is designed to kill if you give it the chance.” You stopped walking, a hiss escaping you as you turned to face him. “Sky people do not know anything. They walk through our home with no worry about how they harm Eywa, animals, or us. It is made to protect balance, balance the sky people have no care for.”

Teylan looked down at your joined hands, his thumb tracing the line of your knuckles. “It is hard to..." He wasn’t sure of his words; he knew deep down inside you were right. “TAP was good at making you question everything. I still don’t know what to trust," he admitted. Your expression softened, the anger fading into an ache. You reached out with your free hand, cupping his jaw for a fleeting second before gesturing to the path.

“We are close to the start of the climb,” you said, your voice gentler now; “we should rest a moment longer. Come, eat.” You made him sit on a rock as you pulled out the fruits you had packed. “Here, this is what your home offers. This you can trust.”

Teylan looked at the fruit, turning it over in his hands before he tentatively took a bite. You watched the way his eyes widened slightly, the way his ears perked up, and the way the tension in his face softened just a bit.

“This tastes like... like something I’ve had before," he murmured, his voice thick with a sudden, unexpected emotion. He finished the fruit in silence after that; you ate beside him, finding solace in the peace shared between the both of you in that moment. His fear wasn't gone; you could still see it in the way his tail tucked close to his leg. “Okay,” he said, wiping the juice from his chin. “I think... I think I can do this.”

That earned a chuckle from you; however, you didn’t let there be a moment longer for him to hesitate. You took the first steps and turned your head back to make sure he followed. The clinking of the decorations adorning your braids kept a steady rhythm in your head as you wound down the rocky path, the stone still warm despite the clouds rolling in from the afternoon sun.

"Do not look down," you warned, approaching the ledge, glancing to check on Teylan. The sun reached its zenith above both of you as you looked out at the view around you. There was still plenty of beauty in the Spires that you loved and admired, but more and more you had noticed the black smoke in the sky, the strange metal structures, and the odd noises that seemed to disturb even the slotsyals. Teylan finally reached the spot you had pulled yourself up to, slightly out of breath, though you weren’t sure if it was from fear or physical exhaustion. He stood at the edge stiffly. His ears were pressed so flat against his skull they had practically disappeared into his dark hair.

“You are not going to fall. This rock has been here a very long time; it is not going anywhere now.” You teased, breaking the silence.

"I... I am not sure," he muttered, taking a cautious step back from the drop. "I am used to fixing tech and helping people with their gear. Climbing? I’m not Na’vi in the ways that count.”

A sharp sadness flared in your chest. To hear him say such things, someone born to Eywa, it made your tail lash in frustration. You stepped into his space, hands settling on his shoulders, gentle but firm enough to ground him.

"Look at me, Teylan," you commanded. "The sky people cannot take away who you are. You are Na'vi; you are already doing it. " He didn’t look convinced, but he looked like he wanted to be. You moved one hand, pressing it over his heart. It was frantic beneath your palm. You held his gaze. "I promise." Teylan let out a breath, shoulders dropping an inch, and for a moment you both went quiet. He looked out at the view below; that fear from a second ago was gone, replaced by disgust. You and Teylan watched a plume of that thick, black smoke rose from a distant valley. It looked like a stain on the sky. The sight of it made your stomach churn. It was a reminder that the safety of your home was shrinking.

Teylan seemed lost in his head before he started speaking. “It looks like one of their drill sites. If I could get this radio to work, I could ask Tamtey to check it out and scout the perimeter, and I could find out what happened when she cut out…if she’s even okay." He sighed and looked around; you were fairly high up, but high enough for a strong signal. He wasn’t positive. His hands absentmindedly fiddled with the radio strapped to his chest, a sort of comfort for him.

"This trail leads up to the top of those stones." You pointed into the distance. Teylan followed your pointing finger, squinting toward the highest point of the jagged rocky path. A steep, vertical chimney that had no clear way up. The only way he could see was a thick, lift-vine hanging sturdily from the stones above, and he could’ve cursed. Being out in the field was not his forte; every second of this hike was beginning to test him. And while he enjoyed the views and the end results, he wished there was a way to do this from the safety of the resistance hideout, a place he had grown accustomed to.

"You want me to... jump?" Teylan’s voice was flat, his eyes fixed on the vine swaying in the strengthening wind.

"It is a small leap. The vine is strong. Trust yourself." You gave him a grin, ran off the ledge, and launched yourself into the air. You caught the vine with a call of triumph, shooting up to the ledge above. "Come on, Teylan! I know you can do it!"

Teylan stood paralyzed. He looked at the drop and the swaying vine. "Just a small jump. Right," he muttered. He shifted, his tail swishing.

"Just do it!" you called down. He adjusted his radio strap, his security blanket of sorts, before he took a deep breath. Then, without a running start, he just jumped.

He shot off the ledge, arms windmilling. For a horrifying heartbeat, he was suspended over the void. Then, his hands slammed into the vine with a loud thwack. “Ma Eywa." He let out a strangled yelp, legs scrabbling in the air as he squeezed his eyes shut, knuckles paling.

"Teylan, you made it," you said, your voice hushed and gentle.

He didn't move. He wasn't even breathing. You leaned down, bracing your legs. "Give me your hand."

"If I let go, I am dead!"

"You are already up here!" you snapped. "Now, give me your hand!"

He reached up, and you caught his wrist, hauling him over the edge. You both tumbled onto the flat rocks. "Breathe," you chuckled, pushing yourself up, watching how he stared up at the sky. "We made it."

"I should not be here," he whispered. "I almost died because I can't climb."

You frowned. "Stop. How do you think you got up here?" You scanned his face. "Do not forget who you are, Sarentu."

"Sarentu," he repeated, the word sounding heavy on his tongue.

“Yes," you said, offering him a firm nod. "That strength is in your blood. It is in your bones."

“I guess I did make it up here…and now I can hopefully contact Tamtey." That uncertainty was beginning to be replaced by a new kind of strange pride. Teylan unstrapped that device from his chest and immediately began to fiddle with it, leaving you perplexed, watching from the side. "If I can just..." He adjusted a wire, his tongue poking out the corner of his mouth, his face contorting in concentration, something you found adorable. "Tamtey? Tamtey, do you copy? Do you hear me?"

Silence. Only the pop of the radio. Teylan’s shoulders slumped slightly. The confidence from earlier seemingly flickered. "Maybe I’m not high enough; maybe what the RDA is using to jam up the frequencies is stronger than I thought. Maybe she…" He didn’t finish the sentence, but you could see the fear, and you shook your head at him. 

“Try again, Teylan; we did not climb all the way up here to give up."

He took a deep breath and adjusted the channel they were on.

“Tamtey?” He spoke into the radio, but when there was no response, he repeated this multiple times until something finally broke through.

“—eylan? —is that—Teylan?” It was faint, buried in static, but it was Tamtey. Teylan’s face lit up.

"Tamtey! Yes! I hear you. Are you safe?"

Her voice surged through. “I’m near the perime—the RDA; they’ve moved in heavy.” There was so much static Tamtey was still breaking up. “They have a—headed toward the mountain. You have to tell the Resistance... they’re going to—”

A violent squeal tore through the radio. You flinched, the sound painful to your sensitive ears. “Wait, Tamtey!?” Teylan’s fingers flew over the radio, his movements losing their earlier precision as panic began to set in. "What are they doing? What is headed toward the mountain?"

He leaned over the device, trying to find the frequency again. All that came back was the mocking hiss of the radio’s dead air. The black smoke you had seen earlier seemed to loom darker now, a promise of destruction coming.

“The signal dropped, dammit!" He slammed his palm against the side of the casing. “I can't get her back!"

Your home had always been a sanctuary for you, the air cold and crisp on your lungs. The sounds of your clan talking, cooking, and preparing medicine were your favorite, a familiar chaos that told you exactly where you belonged in the world, even when your thoughts were jumbled.

But now, it seemed your focus had frayed. For three suns, you had lingered near Teylan, not quite gaining the courage to talk to him, but watching him kept you entertained enough. Today, the grinding of your pestle felt like a chore to keep you busy. Your eyes drifted back to where the Sarentu boy was standing more than was necessary. It wasn't that you viewed Teylan as a threat; in fact, he was often the quietest and kindest soul in the clan since his arrival. It was that very nature that drew you to him.

From your seat, your eyes settled on him yet again. You watched through the gaps of hanging herbs as his face scrunched in deep concentration, slouched over a small, disassembled piece of Sky People metal that you found confusing and vaguely off-putting. Each of his movements was precise. Incredibly careful. You weren't sure when it started, but you began tracing the lines of his stripes, counting the bioluminescent dots that littered his face in a way you found mesmerizing.

SCRAPE. SCRAPE.

The repetitive sound of the other herbalists diligently at work was a sudden reminder of the duty you were neglecting. You looked down at the bowl in your lap; the stone pestle was still clutched in your hand, despite you sitting idle for minutes. But then, Teylan let out a frustrated sigh and ran a hand through his hair. Everything else, the herbs and the other Na'vi chattering around you became background noise yet again. You found yourself wondering how that tiny box could be giving someone so much trouble.

"If you stare any harder, I think you may set the Sarentu’s hair on fire."

The voice was quiet but held obvious humor. It was startling enough that you dropped your pestle, which clattered into your bowl with a dull thud. You turned to meet the dancing eyes of Nira, her own hands pausing their work to tease you. Your ears pinned back instantly, and a heat more intense than the communal fire flooded your cheeks.

"I—I am not staring," you stammered, embarrassed to be caught. You reached to pick up the fallen pestle. Seeing the way Nira leaned back on her heels with a knowing look, you finally admitted, "I was... curious about that strange little box he is holding."

Your friend let out a short laugh, her head tilting. "Really? Because from where I am sitting, it looks like you are trying to count every single stripe."

You looked down at your bowl. "He seems frustrated and tired," you countered, trying to find a more healer-like reason for your wandering eyes. "He has been hunched over that... thing... for ages." You tried to maintain an air of nonchalance, though your tail gave you away with a nervous twitch.

"Maybe you should do something about it," Nira suggested, her elbow nudging your side as her teasing melted into something more encouraging. "The Sarentu are our guests."

Nira continued her work, leaving you to sit there for a long moment considering her words. That gnawing curiosity finally provided the push you needed. Food. Food was the perfect way to approach him.

You excused yourself, and Nira only smiled, motioning for you to go. You weren't the most skilled cook, but you knew enough to get by. You prepared something simple but filling; hopefully a comfort for this boy you had yet to learn. You used the time by the cooking fire to steady your nerves, breathing in the warm scent of spices to calm you.

Teylan didn't look up as you approached. He was hunched so low over that small metal box that his hair draped over his face like a curtain. The box itself was a mess of tiny grey plates and wires that you likened to vines, though you truly had no idea what you were looking at. You stopped just shy of his little "bubble." The strange device looked even more odd up close. This Sky People metal felt like an affront to your beloved Great Mother, a poison to all Na'vi.

Pushing these thoughts aside, you spoke. "The elders say a hunter who forgets to eat will eventually become the prey."

Teylan jumped, his hands jerking from his radio in surprise. He scrambled to catch a little silver screw that skittered across the stone floor, nearly upending the rest of his radio in the process. When his head snapped up to look at you, he looked completely lost for a heartbeat, confused by the sudden interruption.

"I didn't hear you," he breathed, his chest heaving slightly. "I was so caught up on fixing my radio."

"Maybe food will help you figure... this... out," you said, crouching down to his level. You glanced at the strange contraption with a weary expression as you set the bowl in front of him. "Tsu'lo says the spirit needs fuel, even if the mind is busy."

Teylan looked at the food as if he had forgotten such a thing existed. He reached out, hesitant for a moment before accepting it. "Thank you," he muttered, that endearing shyness returning. "I guess I did lose track of time."

You watched him take a bite and finally decided to voice the questions floating in your head. "This box I have been watching you struggle with for hours now. What is wrong with it? Is it sick?"

Teylan paused, a bite halfway to his mouth. He looked between the radio and you before a genuine laugh escaped him, a sound that was surprisingly light. "Sick? No. It is a radio. It is a tool the RDA and Resistance use for communication purposes. It is how I talk to Tamtey when she is out there fighting." He poked at the thing with a sigh. "But it is not working right now. I am pretty sure it has something to do with the mountains messing with the frequencies. My signal with Tamtey keeps dropping, or breaking up."

The radio sat between you, and if you were being honest, you had no idea what he was talking about. Signals and frequencies made no sense to you, but as Teylan took another slow bite of the food, the air between you seemed to soften. You watched him chew, noticing how he kept his eyes downcast and his shoulders pulled in tight.

"You are so quiet," you observed, your head tilting to the side. "I say a quiet person is either a wonderful scout or a very worried soul."

A rush of dark purple heat ran up Teylan's neck. "I am used to eating in silence. It is something all of us are used to... I think. The rest of the TAP kids, that is."

"TAP?" you repeated. The word held no meaning for you. Living in the spires, you had been sheltered by the elders from the Sky People and their relentless push to consume Pandora. "I thought you were Sarentu? What is this TAP? A clan?"

Teylan only shook his head. "It is a school. Or it was. It was supposed to create good relationships between Na'vi and humans. To share technology, medicine, and knowledge." It was a phrase he had recited since childhood. His ears went back, and he set the now empty bowl down. "At least, that is what Alma and Mercer always taught us."

A pang of sadness and something almost protective stirred in your chest. You leaned in a fraction closer, the scent of the salve you had been working on drifting into the space between you. This "school" sounded like a nightmare. A confusing, unbearable cage.

"To share medicine? The Great Mother has given us all we need. To share knowledge? We have the stories and teachings of our ancestors." You realized your voice had sharpened, so you pulled back a bit, your tail giving a sympathetic flick. "I am sorry. The Sky People... They are always taking. Turning life into something it does not need to be."

Teylan's ears pressed even flatter. The mention of "taking" struck a chord he wasn't ready to face. He looked down at the radio, his fingers tracing the edge of the metal casing. To him, it was a connection to all he’d ever really known. He went to speak, but the radio suddenly sputtered. A voice cracked through the static, breaking up.

"Tey—I think—RDA—LAN?"

"That was Tamtey," he frowned, moving closer to the device again. His voice carried that familiar frustration as he tried to click the parts back into place. "She is out there in the wind and the rain fighting, and here I am unable to even fix this radio so we can communicate."

You leaned back instinctively, the disembodied voice making your skin crawl. But seeing the distress on Teylan's face, your weariness warred with the growing curiosity inside you. "Tamtey... they are lost out there?"

Teylan said nothing at first, completely focused as he twisted a few components.

"—Teylan! The mountains... too much interference... I am going to try the—"

With a final pop, the radio went dead.

"The signal..." he muttered, more to himself than to you. His ears twitched and he scrambled to his feet, nearly flipping the empty bowl. "I have to go," he said, his voice tight. "If I can get to higher ground—much higher ground—I might be able to catch a strong enough signal to get through to her."

He looked toward the exit of the cave with a look of pure trepidation. The confidence he had while explaining his "technology" evaporated the moment he faced the physical reality of a climb.

"I know a spot," you suggested softly, standing up to join him. "It is high enough, but it is quite the climb."

He looked at you, his tail giving a nervous, low twitch. Finally, he gave a slow, shaky nod, his amber eyes meeting yours with a fragile sort of trust.

"Okay," he whispered, clutching the radio tightly. "I guess all I can do is hope I do not die."

The air in the upper spires was always thin, sharp with the cold of mountain stone and the rich scent of earth that clung to the cliffs. You sat cross-legged on a handwoven mat, shoulder to shoulder with a small circle of other young herbalists. The smell of crushed herbs kept you anchored. Meanwhile, the clan’s daily rhythm drifted around you with a low hum, a familiar comfort against the biting wind that whistled through the open archways.

“No, no!” a voice spoke, sharp but not unkind. “Pod oil first.”

You froze, your ears flicking back in a hot prick of embarrassment at your mistake. You looked up to find Tsu’lo watching you, his knowledgeable gaze fixed on the wooden bowl in your lap.

“Mix that the wrong way and you will lose all your hair, only your kuru remaining,” he warned. His tail swished behind him in amusement, that playful look in his eyes never truly fading, even though his lesson was stern.

A small, relieved laugh escaped you, causing the tension in your shoulders to ease. You gave him a sheepish nod and reached for the small vial, focused on correcting the mistake. “Pod oil first,” you whispered to yourself, a mantra to store deep in your mind so you would never have to feel the sting of this mistake again.

“A lesson you only need to learn once,” Tsu’lo murmured.

Suddenly, his eyes drifted toward the entrance of your home. He let out a heavy, knowing sigh as he approached. “Young Sarentu, you finally found us!”

Your gaze tore from your bowl, curiosity finally winning over duty. Gossip had been rushing through the spires since last night, talk of a young Na’vi warrior, a Sarentu, searching for the hidden paths. Now, the rumors were taking shape as she stepped into the cave, her posture heavy with the weariness of a long journey, yet her eyes held a fierce, burning fire. It was a stark contrast to the quiet, stoic nature of the Ke’awa you had known all your life.

Trying not to be rude, you broke your stare and forced your hands back to their work, mixing in the right order this time. Your ears were twitching towards them for any words spoken. You knew the stories: the Kame’tire’s dark history with the Sarentu, the horrors of the poisoning, and the suffocating guilt the elders still carried over Anufi’s supposed crimes.

The warrior, Tamtey, seemed surprised by his greeting. “You knew I was coming?”

Tsu’lo let out a boisterous laugh that echoed off the stone walls as he gestured around them. “We Kame’tire see all who enter here.” His expression shifted then, turning solemn and sharp. “I am curious, a Sarentu?” He paused, his voice thick with disbelief. “In our camp?!”

Tsu’lo stepped closer, studying her, eyes tracing the mark of a clan thought dead before continuing. “We believed our Tsahìk Anufi killed your clan.” He didn’t break eye contact, but his gaze grew heavy as he waited for her answer.

The Sarentu held her hands up, taking a half step forward in a gesture of peace. “So did she. But it was Mokasa. He betrayed us to the sky people and blamed Anufi for their crimes.”

You couldn’t help it; your head snapped up at the confession. Her eyes held a resolve so pure it seemed to soften Tsu’lo in a way you had never seen. He turned away, needing a moment to process the shattering of a decades old lie.

“He lied to you all,” she pressed on. “Anufi banished him when she learned the truth.”

As you watched your leader gather his strength, he spoke again, his voice sounding suddenly weary. “She finally saw the real Mokasa.” He was slow to turn back around, but the Sarentu’s next words had him quickly facing her.

“She sent me here to bring you home.”

Tamtey’s voice was unyielding. You felt a strange fluttering in your chest, a dizzying sensation of hope for a place you had never been, a home you had only seen in the dreams of your elders. You knew you should be mixing, but you were stuck in a trance.

“Anufi? Wants us home?” Tsu’lo’s voice carried that disbelief again. “Then where is she?”

The serious, stone cold expression returned to his face, and with it, the flicker of hope in your chest dimmed.

“We left our people long ago. Shrouded in sorrow and mourning." He gestured broadly to you and the other young herbalists. “For some, this is the only home they have ever known.” He shook his head, waving a dismissive hand. “To return… You bring us impossible dreams, young Sarentu.”

Before Tamtey could push further, a male named Emeray approached. “Tsu’lo.” His voice was young; it carried the weight of a warrior, someone who had spent too much time on watch. Tsu’lo urged him to continue with a silent nod.

“Scouts say the metal birds prepare to fly,” Emeray reported, nodding his head over his shoulder.

Tsu’lo followed him, but not before casting one last look back at the stranger. “See how the sky people threaten this place too?” He swept his arms out toward the majestic spires.

Your ears shot back; even just the mention of the sky people made your stomach flip with dread, but the Sarentu didn’t even flinch as your leader continued.

“Their greed pushes them across Pandora,” Tsu’lo’s voice dipping low, his distaste for the invaders clear.

Tamtey grimaced. “I learned their weapons long ago; I know their weaknesses.” She touched a hand to her heart. “Let me join your fight.”

Tsu’lo reached out, grabbing her shoulder. Gentle, but firm: “All this to reunite our people?” He searched her eyes. Finally, he seemed to find what answers he was looking for and stepped back. “Very well, but understand. No matter Anufi’s wish, I cannot abandon our home to ruin.”