#tsyeyk

“You do not think I can do it?” you asked, slightly hurt that he was doubting you.

Cold paint felt tacky on your skin as it slowly settled. “I know you can do this, but by design it will bring you to death’s feet,” he explained.

You gritted your teeth, “I have to complete the ritual. There’s no going back for me. I want to be one of the people, that's what you have been training me for,” you insisted.

He nodded, eyes set on your stomach as he led his fingers around in more swirls and lines. The sensation tickled, but you did not allow yourself to move. “Then you must be strong, no hesitation. Follow the path Eywa lays out before you and do not falter, Unilnyu (dreamer).”

“Don’t worry, I had a good teacher,” you smiled and his yellow eyes flicked up to yours. 

He was quiet as his hands moved to your face, making twin curves on each of your cheeks, “Even a good teacher cannot prepare their student for this. Keep hold of your strong heart.” 

“I will, Tsyeyk,” you promised and he nodded, two fingers moving down your nose and falling to your lips, lingering a moment longer on them than necessary. Your breath hitched before he finally moved on, adding more details to your torso and forehead. 

“One last thing,” he murmured, dipping his entire hand in the white and bringing it to your chest. He moved the woven fabric of your top down and you froze at the touch. He brought his hand to you and laid it over your heart. His warmth bled through the coolness of the paint and then into your skin. “So you remember who you are,” he explained, eyes on yours.

“Someone with a strong heart?” you asked breathlessly.

He nodded, “and… that you are mine.” 

-

You splashed water over your face as you sat in the stream, legs still weak from the poison and psychedelics. You laughed as you realized how much joy was in your heart because you had really done it. You passed the dream hunt, you were one of the people now. 

You scrubbed harshly at your skin, washing the last of the paint off of you as footsteps crunched through the leaves behind you. You turned, expecting to see Tsyeyk but instead found Neytiri.

You smiled at your friend as she stopped at the bank. “Congratulations, sister,” she said proudly. 

You and Neytiri had become friends over the last month or two. She was wary of your human ways at first as was everyone else, keeping a wide berth and sending you nasty glares. Eventually though, she realized you were in it for the long haul and she made an effort to get to know you. She was one of Tsyeyk’s closest friends and it made you overjoyed to be accepted by her, even if it was slow going at first.

“Thank you sister,” you beamed at the title.

She sat down beside you as you made your way back up to the shore. “I have brought many adornments. The men get a cumberbund, but women have to show their status in other ways,” she said, opening a pouch that was slung over her shoulder and showing you beaded items, flowers attached to woven fibers, and colorful hair accessories.

“Which do you want?” she asked, big eyes staring at you expectantly and you felt overwhelmed at the choice.

“You pick for me. What will make me most beautiful?” you asked, looking to her.

“You are already beautiful,” she playfully sighed, “I wish I looked like you.” she said and it made your brows jump. She started rifling through the bag, pulling out various items.

“Stop teasing me,” you shook your head, plastering on a smile to hide the prickly feeling in your chest at her mockery. She chose a piece and removed it from her bag.

“I am not!” she exclaimed, eyes meeting yours again and she pulled your arm through a carved wooden cuff, letting the swirling, beautiful jewelry sit on your bicep.

“Really?” you asked, eyes narrowing at her as she rolled her eyes. 

“Everyone’s eyes are on you. Surely you know the effect you have on the people,” she pointed out.

Your head recoiled at the idea. “I thought that was because I was a dreamwalker. I mean, Tsyeyk said that it was desired among the na’vi, but I thought he was just being nice. Humans can sometimes… make fun of people who look like me. They all want to look like you,” you explained.

“Well, that is stupid,” she pointed out. “Tsyeyk does not mislead you. In fact, I would say he stares the most,” she grinned mischievously. You blushed thinking of his words earlier, calling you his. 

That sent your thoughts racing all over again. You wondered if he truly meant it. What would a life together look like when you weren't even living in your real body?

“Now you are teasing me,” you stated. She wound a string of beads three times around your neck, creating a choker that sat at the base of your throat. 

“Yes, but the words are true. He has told me you were the most beautiful woman he has ever seen.” Neytiri confessed, looking at you in a I-told-you-so way that made you even more curious.

“Which one?” she asked, holding up two hair accessories for you to choose between as if she hadn't just told you earth shattering information. 

The air left your lungs, but you choked out, “that one,” and pointed to a yellow stone attached to a carved comb.  

“Did he really say that?” You asked, as Neytiri stood up to walk around to your back. She gathered your hair and spun it in her hands, your kuru being the only thing left down as she clipped it up securely.

“Yes!” she insisted, laughing at your dumbfounded tone. “That is why you must look extra beautiful tonight, so he will finally sweep you off of your feet,” she explained, 

“I just passed my Uniltaron, is that not enough excitement for one night!” you argued with a laugh.

“No, not when you are one of the people now. Not when my friend looks at you as if you are a Tìhawnuwll fruit he would like to sink his teeth into,” she chided, grabbing your hands and helping to pull you up so that you were standing. 

“He does not!” You exclaimed, regaining your balance as you stood in the ankle deep water.

“His handprint is gone, this will make him furious. That is good,” she stated, tapping your heart with her finger before she bent back down to her bag and pulled out another piece of jewelry.

“I washed off all of the paint,” you argued, gesturing to your whole body.

“You washed away his claim on you, he will restake it,” she promised, holding up what you thought was a necklace at first but as you took it in your hands, you realized it was more of a top. A leather strip of dangling beads shaped like a deep v that had another piece of leather that led to an attachment for your waist. It was highly decorated, the leather pressed with swirls and the beads having a hundred different colors and differentiations.

“Let us put him to the test tonight,” she said, brows jumping in challenge. “This is my gift to you for becoming one of the people. It will fit,” she assured you.

“Neytiri,” you gaped, looking at the intricate and beautiful piece she had given you. “Thank you sister,” you smiled, tears welling in your eyes.

“Do not cry, that will make me think you do not like it,” she tutted. She took it back in her hands and gestured for you to take off the top you already had on.

“Tsyeyk made it for me,” you confessed, hesitant to part with it.

She rolled her eyes, “I am not asking you to burn it. Just for the night you can wear something different,” she pointed out and you sighed.

“Right, okay,” you acquiesced and slid the top over your head, careful to not mess with your hair. She helped you attach the new top and it fit beautifully. You moved and the beads clacked together, giving a pretty tinkling sound that made you smile.

“Thank you,” you repeated, grabbing her three fingered hand and squeezing once in gratitude. 

“Come, the men will be on the prowl tonight. We must give them something to hunt,” she laughed, tugging you behind her back to hometree.

The drums were already pounding as she pulled you up the spiral to the second floor where fires flamed at full force and dancers twirled with dyed fibers attached to their arms and torsos.

You were immediately swarmed with Na’vi as they congratulated you, some even bringing you in for an enthusiastic embrace. Neytiri waved them off as she pulled you closer to a fire. “Dance with me!” she requested and you barked out a laugh.

“I don’t know how!” you argued but she rolled her eyes. 

“I will show you. There is no one way,” she insisted.

“Okay,” you agreed, both of you giggling as she showed you how to spin and move your body the Na’vi way. You know you sucked, but it was fun.

“Look,” she suddenly said, nodding to the corner where Tsyeyk stood, arms crossed over his broad chest as he stared you down. “He is not the only one,” Neytiri teased.

You glanced to where she was looking to find a group of hunters looking at you as you danced. Your cheeks flushed at the attention, becoming aware of your surroundings.

“Do not stop having fun,” she requested, “this is your celebration, do not worry what others think.” She could easily pick up on your apprehension now.

You shook your head, “I know, I’m sorry, I just think I need something to drink,” you excused yourself, stumbling away from the other dancing bodies and into the more open space. You crossed your arms over your stomach, feeling self conscious as you still felt eyes on you. 

“Having fun, Unilnyu?” a deep voice asked, and you looked up to narrowly stop right in front of Tsyeyk’s chest, your nose an inch away from his chin.

“Geez,” you stuttered, stepping back in surprise. He laughed at your reaction and it made you smile too, ”Yes, a lot of fun. Neytiri has been very kind to me tonight,” you responded to his question.

“I see that. Is this her doing?” he asked, grasping your hands and pulling your arms away from your stomach so he could see your top and jewelry. You let him hold your arms up like a T, but tugged them away when his eyes flicked back to yours.

“Yes,” you admitted, “She would not let me wear your gift tonight,” you explained.

“You look beautiful regardless,” his eyes flashed down again as he said, “But you washed away my reminder,” he pointed out, gesturing to your chest. Only beads danced across it now and you knew he was upset at this by the way his eyes burned into the spot.

“I passed, I didn't think I needed it anymore,” you stated, eyebrows furrowing at his reaction, as you watched his face harden.

“I-” he started, but was cut off as another man approached you.

“Dance with me!” a male that you didn't know the name of said in rusty English. He held out a hand, offering to pull you back into the throng of people. 

You didn't know what to say, but Tsyeyk didn't give you the chance to respond anyway. “Tsun nga ke kame po lu plltxe ne oe (Can you not see she is speaking to me)?” he barked at the man who stared back wide eyed. You had picked up much more Na’vi at this point and understood most of what he was saying. Your cheeks flooded with heat at the territorial display.

The man’s eyes darted from Tsyek to you to somewhere over your shoulder as Neytiri suddenly appeared. “She would love to!” she said in English, taking your hand and placing it in the man's. 

“She doesn't know him,” Tsyeyk growled at Neytiri, putting out a hand to stop you from moving.

Neytiri scoffed, “Y/n, this is Lopal. There, now she knows him.” She pushed you as Lopal pulled and you were swept into the dance. He looked as confused as did you, but instead of asking questions, he spun you, arms moving strangely and you tried your best to follow. 

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Neytiri talking to Tsyeyk, his arms crossed over his chest as he kept his eyes trained on you. The Na’vi would not touch metal, but he was glaring iron daggers at where this hunter's hands held yours.

Tsyeyk and Neytiri seemed to be arguing. He gestured his arm at you as he bit out words you couldn't make out. Neytiri didn't let his foul mood intimidate her though, she said her own words and pushed past him. He followed after her, arms still flailing. You rolled your eyes at the dramatics of the two Na’vi, but your mind was quickly distracted as Lopal twirled you.

You danced until your feet throbbed and Lopal finally let you go. You thanked him for the dance, but went to finally get that drink you wanted so desperately. 

You found water hanging on the wall in a plant-made skin and let the cool water drain down your throat, happy for the relief it brought you. You hadn't realized how dry your mouth was until now. You hung it back up and were about to rejoin the party when a shadow fell across the wall.

You spun around to see Tsyeyk approaching you, stopping a foot away. Your eyes widened when you realized he had a handful of yellow paint. 

“Tsyeyk, what are you-” you stopped as he planted his hand firmly on your chest. You looked down to see yellow sandwiched between blue skin.

Your eyes flashed back to his as he started talking, face hovering near yours. “The reminder was not for the Uniltaron, it was for you. You are mine, do not dance with anyone else tonight,” he ordered, hand still pressed to your chest as you stared open-mouthed back at him.

He ripped his hand away, the paint making a wet sound as it separated. He took his paint covered thumb and pressed it below your lips, right on your chin. His eyes smouldered as he staked his claim. 

You searched for words but before you could find any, Tsyeyk sent you one last heated look and removed his finger, leaving a large yellow dot in its absence.

“Agreed?” he asked in a clipped tone, his head cocking slightly to the side as he waited.

You barely nodded before he muttered “good,” and turned to stalk back into the crowd, leaving you breathless and wide eyed in his wake. 

You didn't see him again until nearly an hour later. You had spent the time replaying the scene in your mind, his words making you blush anew each time. You were a frazzled mess.

When he finally appeared again, he took your hand in his, not even asking before he swept you into a dance that had your heart racing under his hand print.

“Where were you?” you asked him when the tempo slowed and he could hear you over the din.

“Cooling off, I do not like people seeing me angry,” he explained as if he made any sense. His eyes searched yours, looking afraid of rejection, like he feared he had been to much, but was realizing it too late.

“Oh…” you stuttered, watching as his eyes visibly softened. "It's okay," you murmured.

“I am sorry, I just…” he trailed off, shaking his head as you bit your lip in thought.

You smiled bashfully at a memory that resurfaced. “I think I understand,” you said, “It is like when Peyral gave you that arm guard and I wanted to claw her eyes out. I had to leave,” you confessed and he raised his brows at you.

“I did not know you saw that,” he said, “I did not accept it. My heart already belonged to another,” he said in your ear and you smiled, eyes focused on his smooth shoulder as he held you, hands around your waist.

“Good,” you said smugly.

He held you away from him, searching deeply into your eyes. “Can I show you something?” he requested.

“Anything,” you agreed.

Tsyeyk took your hand and tugged you out of hometree and through the forest. He pulled you around trees and your feet tripped through the grass and brush. You both were laughing when you came into a clearing, your face sobering when you realized where you were. 

The Tree of Voices… Grace was gonna freak out.

Tsyeyk’s steps didn't falter or hesitate as he dragged you forward, twisting so that he was walking backwards to see your face. Your footsteps illuminated beneath you as you picked your way closer. Purple hued tendrils of the tree hung down around you and you gaped in fascination. Tsyeyk caught your wonder and smiled at the sight.

“This is a place for prayers to be heard,” he explained over his shoulder and he let go of your hand. He grabbed his kuru and held it to two vines, letting the thin nerves from his braid stretch over the glowing tendrils. “And sometimes they are answered,” he added, turning to look at you over his shoulder.

You reached out and brushed over a tendril feeling the warm, softness of it. “It's beautiful,” you mumbled, looking to the top of the tree where the brightest concentration of light emanated. 

Tsyeyk grinned again, “We call this utraya mokri, the Tree of Voices. Try it,” he instructed, nodding for you to follow his lead. “They are the voices of our ancestors. When Na’vi die, our spirits go to live within Eywa.”

You reached forward, grabbing a few vines within your reach and Tsyeyk watched as you attached your kuru, eyes shutting as your mind was filled with the comforting sound of happy voices. 

“I can hear them,” you smiled, opening your eyes to look at Tsyeyk. He gently tugged his kuru away from the vines, walking over to you. His chest nearly touched your back and you were hyperaware of his scent, his closeness.          

“Now that you have passed the rituals, you are Omatikaya now. You may make your bow from the wood of Hometree. And you may choose a mate,” he explained. 

You glanced over your shoulder, tearing your braid away from the vines as the conversation shifted. His eyes were fixed on the atrokarina softly floating between the vines. You didn't turn around, not wanting to bump him or distract him from his next words.

“Layitxi is the best drummer,” he said, reaching out to catch a woodsprite in his palm and send it flying again.

“I don’t want Layitxi,” you said, watching his hand movements. You realized what he was doing. He was feeling you out to see your intentions. You decided you would play his game, and you would have fun with it. 

“Hmm,” his chest made a warm sound close to being pleased and it made you grin.

“There is Kaim. He is kind, although his aim rarely is true.” Tsyeyk said, fingers curling around a glowing vine in front of you. 

“Kindness is important, but so is skill,” you tutted.

“Zìey is the best hunter, although he has many lovers,” Tsyeyk continued.

“He is a good hunter, perhaps he shall gain another,” you agreed teasingly, knowing you were pushing his buttons but enjoying watching as his hand tightened around the vine.

You shook your head, “I've already chosen,” you gave in, not feeling mean enough to torture him any longer. You turned and continued, taking in his handsome face, “but this man must also choose me,” you urged hopefully.

Tsyeyk smiled softly, eyes locked on yours, “He already has.” He reached up to the back of your head and tugged the comb out of your hair, letting it fall freely in a curtain around you.

He went to pull you into a kiss but paused when your mouth was about to hit his. “Wait…” he said and your heart dropped. “I do not want to trick you, you do not know our ways. Na’vi, they… we mate for life,” he explained slowly, eyes trained on your lips still.

“Oh,” you breathed. “I mean, is that what we’re about to do?” you asked him, genuinely curious.

“That is what I wish to do,” he corrected you, “but if you need more time, if you-” you cut him off.

“No, I don't need more time. I already told you, I chose you, Tsyeyk,” you promised. “but you know, my real body is far away, sleeping. You would mate with a dream walker?” 

His hand left your jaw, covering your heart instead, “This body is real,” he said, moving his hand again to tap your forehead, “This spirit is real. I choose you.”

He continued, “When I was first your teacher, I hated all Sky People. But you have also taught me something. Spirit is all that matters,” he assured you.

You smiled up at him, “I see you,” you muttered.

He smiled back, lowering his forehead onto yours, “I see you, Ma’Unilnyu.”

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