OCEAN WELL, avatar; the way of the water (discontinued).

III. CHILD OF EYWA

With the horizon came a storm.

Thunder rattled and shook the ground, striking my upturned ears.

The lightning burst out in loud flashes and I counted down the moments before the rain. I stand in awe, in confusion, taking long strides into the swelling and crackling ocean waves.

"Where are you going!?" Is yelled at me through the wind.

I turn to face the boy I'd spoken to only briefly. It was an honest reaction to seeing a usually calm-headed tutean dive headfirst into a natural disaster.

Ao'nung is ten steps behind me, legs trembling and eyes wide. The sand kicks up with his nervous shuffling. He glances left and right anxiously, almost as if he is afraid of me getting caught. I do not respond to him, turning away dismissively.

I take another step, water lashing against my feet and he calls out desperately once again. "Wait! You can't go into the water right now! It is not saf-!"

But his ringing voice is cut off as I dive below the surface.

"Do not follow," I tell him.

Since now I must go.

I must go.

I am already so late. My Eywa— my Great Mother. Please forgive me.

The water is tumultuous, even down below. But it is no difference to me, as it calms momentarily with every stroke I make.

From the day of my birth, with every storm, I am called by Eywa to the spirit tree. Like a vortex, it drags and pulls me most desperately towards it. There, I see things. The most frightening things.

The Great Mother guides me. She shows me what will come to be. And if she calls for me with such a mighty storm, then something dangerous will be foretold.

In this life, I am happy.

But in this life, I am also very scared.

Eywa, why was I brought here? Today, I hope you will tell me.

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"Ma sa'nok— Mother! We have to go now! We have to go!" Ao'nung stumbles into the marui pod. Out of breath from racing his way over. He frantically calls out to his mother.

She turns to him with a confused look, reaching out her hands to him. "What is it!? What is it, boy!?"

But he is so tragically lost within himself that all he can cry out is, "We have to go! We have to go!" The thunder sounds out with his sobs and drowns his weak and pleading voice with it. It is only as he weeps out the words, "We have to go help her," that Ronal grasps some semblance of what he is saying.

"We have to go help who? Who!?" She shakes him to get an answer but he is weak and unsteady and begging in her arms in a way none can understand. It is as if his soul is bleeding out from his eyes.

'What is wrong with him? What has happened to him?'

Tsireya who was sleeping sits up at their shouting and even she is confused at his ragged state.

Her brother, right before her, looks as if he is dying.

A force beyond himself controlling his very being.

"Ao'nung! Are you okay!? What is wrong!?" Tsireya tries to soothe him, but he is so distraught. He turns his head to his sister, almost limp in his mother's embrace and begs, "You have to help her! You have to help Amara!"

And as the name slips from his lips, it is like a tragedy is formed in his body. The boy seizes and begins to thrash about. 

"Ao'nung!? Ao'nung!?" They shriek out, but he is completely unresponsive.

Eywa is indeed a frightening thing.

▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎

When I return, Awa'atlu looks broken in more ways than one.

The air is heavy, the papa mantis trees are overturned and life on the island itself seems still. As soon as I break out from the ocean's surface, many eyes are focused on me. All weary, and lost.

Two warriors trudge their way towards me and grab ahold of me. Terrible lines mar their faces, obvious signs of distress.

"What did you do?" One asks me, voice hoarse.

He is looking at me intensely but grows even more fierce when met with my confused face. "What!?" He shakes me when I give no reply.

I open my mouth to say something, anything, but no words come out.

"Etera! This is not the way!" They shove one-handedly at each other's shoulders. Their attention leaves me to instead focus on their argument.

"Then what do you suppose we do!?"

"Take her to the Olo'eyktan! Let him decide!"

They both nod at coming to an agreement and drag me along behind them. I do not make any complaint, assuming the answer will be revealed upon meeting the Olo'eyktan.

They look back at me multiple times when I give no response, gently like an ilu, as if checking to make sure I'm still there. This is despite the fact that I am held in their strong grip.

My shoulders begin to ache long before we reach the Olo'eyktan's marui pod. The warriors call out loudly when we get close, "She is here! We have found her!" And at that, Tsireya shoots out and watches with wide eyes.

"Amara!" She calls to me but is pulled back by her father. Tonowari, Olo'eyktan of Awa'atlu stares at me with a look I am unable to figure out. Worry begins to rise within me. There is something happening that shouldn't be happening.

I am handed off to him and he stoops to meet my eyes.

"Child. Where were you?" He says in a quiet voice.

I do not know how to respond. I am so confused.

What happened?

What did I do?

"Bring her here!" The Tsahik hisses out from inside and so I turn to look into the marui pod.

There I see her squatted over her son's form. Ao'nung lies still like the dead and she is gathering wind and breath over and into his corpse. I begin to comprehend the situation a little better.

Perhaps he had followed after me and drowned.

Or maybe something similar.

I step into the pod and towards Ronal. "What can I do?" I say quietly. And she in turn stops flimsily and lets out a sob. "I- I do not know. I do not know, child!" She looks tired and as if something dreadful has been brewed into her spirit.

Her hand wobbles as it reaches for me, begging me to help. "He came weeping your name as if it was his last breath, then collapsed. And now I do not know! I do not know how to heal my own son!"

I too do not know, but I walk towards her carefully. I stand where she had once been hovering, and all I do is say,

"Ao'nung, get up now."

My voice is barely there and I can hear the Tsahik falling apart behind me. So I offer those words. I offer those small words to the Tsahik, and to Eywa. My Eywa who always guides me.

And just like that, a boy who had been without a breath and a heartbeat gets up as commanded.

That boy then clutches onto me most desperately.

What is this, Eywa? What did you do?

But like always, she never answers me in a way I can understand.