A true seer | Neteyam

3. There is no good with no bad

The first couple of months were very much like a thunderstorm. Except that the thunder was trying very hard to hit me, and all I had around were a bunch of trees. I was an easy target.

When we first got to the clan, after four days of riding half the globe, we arrived at their biggest island, Awa'atlu. It is needless to say that we weren't welcomed. We were viewed as dead weight: half of the family was sick, looking dead, and unable to do anything, and the rest —mom and I— had abilities and bodies that were of no use to them. We couldn't hold our breath for fifteen minutes, we couldn't swim as fast or ride their animals.

It was degrading for my mother to have to use the pity card. Acting as if we had nowhere else to go, crying her eyes out. Nevertheless, it worked. Half-heartedly, the Tsahik of the clan, Ronal, agreed for us to stay. Their leader, Tonowari, wanted us to feel comfortable while they cured dad, but he didn't want us to be useless.

We were supposed to stay in one of the small mauri pods the rest lived in, but seeing that they had a vast amount of trees on their island, we were allowed to build our own. It made it feel more like home. Mom's ikran, Tzari, flew away to stay on the rocky mountains that were not far away. She would come back every time mom called her. For the time we would spend in our house in the trees, we couldn't blend in as fast as we would have liked.

One of the women in the clan taught mom how to collect clams, how to cook and gather the food that fishermen would bring, she taught her their songs and their animals... All of that whilst we would spend one-third of the day watching over Tsy'tonwa. He was getting slightly better, being able to eat from mom's hands and becoming lucid from time to time.

I remember the day they brought him in. The sound of an engine was heard all over the village. I saw them getting scared, and flashbacks came to mind about the Sky People. Norm came out of metal ikran and ruffled my hair. He had to leave very quickly, otherwise, the people might've tried to sabotage his machine. They trusted us less after that.

Anyhow, I turned nine four months after getting there. If it had been any time sooner, I would have probably been ignored that day. I had been the object of pranks all those months, but they had been reducing. From the tail pulling, the criticism of my skin tone, my short tail, and my thin arms, to being nicer with me. They still did those things, but now I knew that it was a joke, from friends to friends, and even I sometimes said things about them. It was a good way of approaching things: instead of thinking of myself as a freak, I thought I was special, one of a kind. At least in that place. And if they were to come to the forest then it would be the same for them.

As the matter turned out to be, I could now stand about seven minutes underwater, I knew the basics and even a bit more of their finger talk, and I had an ilu. Because I had already learned their ways fast, thanks to the leader's daughter, Tsireya, I had the honor of receiving a birthday party. I don't know what I was expecting, but I felt like I was finally accepted when they all sang songs to me in the Cove of Ancestors.

We returned to the island, me on my ilu, and we ate fish. Dad could tell it was my birthday because he gathered all the strength he had and sat down in front of me for the feast. It was the first time in a year that he had talked to that many people. He thanked Tonowari and Ronal in simple words. We then helped him to his feet and took him to the pod he was staying, right next to that of the Tsahik, where he could get all the help he needed. Mom viewed his efforts as a sign of Eywa that meant he would live. The next day, we took our stuff from our place in the trees and moved in with him.

Two months later, the Tulkun returned from their migration cycle. Tsireya had told me everything there was to know about them. She made me meet her spirit sister, and all I could see at that moment was how precious life was. No matter the place, in Pandora everyone loved everything, and we were all connected through Eywa.

The year after, I was a full Metkayina. I had bonded with a Tulkun when they returned from their trip. Lowsla turned out to be the sister of Tsireya's Tulkun. She was a sweet girl, rebellious and charismatic. She had been preparing to become a composer of songs for months, and she was hoping that I would sing with her when the time came.

Like a contradiction, dad's state got worse. He had no rashes now, but he became as pale as a Metkayina, and his skin dried like a leaf. He had intense sessions with the Tsahik while she tried to suck the harmful energies off him. It didn't work how it was supposed to.

Mom, sooner rather than later, focused on dad and dad only. I spent most of my day with Tsireya and her friends —but not her brother Aonung since he was all about avoiding outcasts. For months Na'tyr stopped being part of the people I interacted with. And, worst of all, she ceased being my mother.

I couldn't handle the pressure of being yelled at repeatedly. Many years ago, my sister was the one being scolded, and then she 'died'. Was it my turn now? That was on my mind back then, a thought stuck in my depressed self.

The third and fourth, when I turned 11 and 12 respectively, I was tired of this life. Had I grown used to it? Yes. Was I happy with that? No. Those years I missed my old life the most. The forest and its beauties. The ikrans and pa'lis, even the deadly thanators. And, the thing was, that during my time there I didn't even get a proper home. There wasn't a Home Tree any longer. We had a camp next to Hell's Gate.

More than that, I missed my people. I missed one person in particular: Neteyam. It was through our bond that even thousands of miles away I could sense a bit of what he felt. Most of the time it was in between sadness and disappointment. I knew that he probably had to bear quite a lot for being the oldest son —my sister used to tell me her daily stories of how she took care of me when I was born, and then how she had to be the perfect puppet that I could learn from. It ached my heart to know that after all, I'd end up breaking my promise, the one I told him on the last day we saw each other, and that he would grow up to be the new Olo'eyktan. When you had such a high position, it was almost impossible for someone to pass it on willingly.

No one from our previous clan ever came to visit, to check on dad or on us. Each day I learned to bury deep down every memory I had. I decided to care only about the here and now.

What was happening at that time was the following: I got my first tattoo, similar to those everyone had, until the third; I'd spend the day with Lowsla while she told me stories, and at the end, we would sing a song to say farewell; I was instructed on the healing powers of the flowers and plants of the reef, and I would constantly help the wounded from hunting.

The fifth-year came and went swiftly. It was so fast I couldn't keep track of the days, and, sometime around the cold season, dad died. All that time it had been a repeating pattern of getting better and worse and then starting over. He needed peace, so he came forward to the Great Mother and never returned. We followed the Metkayina way of mourning rituals. His body was absorbed by the sea.

From then on I understood the truth behind the mantra of the reef people, my people. The way of water has no beginning and no end. The sea is around you and in you. The sea is your home, before your birth and after your death. Our hearts beat in the womb of the world. Our breath burns in the shadows of the deep. The sea gives and the sea takes. Water connects all things, life to death, and darkness to light.

We were in between worlds. Forest and sea. We were welcomed in both, they both were our homes and they both held awful moments. Dad and Maitrey. It was in our hands to choose where to stay.

But we couldn't keep running away. There were things, animals, and people, holding us back. This time, even if mom didn't agree, I'd stay.

The problem was that, two years later, I was betrothed to a boy, who I was supposed to mate with some time in the future.

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Author's note:

I'm back, once again, and I bring drama. I wanted to catch up with your life (because, may I remind you, you are the character narrating) from ages 8 to 14, so here it is. I still think that the chapter is too short to have this amount of years in it, but whatever, I'll let it be.

The next chapter will, hopefully, be uploaded tomorrow.

In case I don't see ya, good afternoon, good evening, and good night, cheers.