lomtu → neteyam sully [2]

'aw

→ 001; enclosed

"behave yourself, kyati. you know our fate."

at last, the sopyu returned to their place of origin.

it should have been familiar, kyati thought. she remembered it so vividly from her childhood; the cold cave walls, often wet with moisture the air collected. the little glowing spxam that grew like miniature forests in the slash-like gaps in the cave walls; their flavour tasting of home on her tongue. the feeling of her fingers caressing the stone to find a suitable ledge to pull her body upwards. the view of her clan, gathered and bustling with activity, as she was the first among her friends to make it up to the domed ceiling. her first fall, her second fall. the bruises she'd acquired from them, and the pain they shot through her muscles every time she tried to sit for a week afterwards. the deep-red and white paintings on the stone which served as her library. and the great white vines that glowed as they hung from the top of the caves—the sopyu's connection to eywa.

so why did the place seem so small? it was like kyati had forgotten so many details, that the place in her imagination was some false painting. the caves felt damp and humid in a most uncomfortable way, and the air reeked of bodies and fungi. it seemed lifeless, compared to the pandoran forests and seas and skies. but it was kyati's home, was it not? it was just as familiar as it was unfamiliar, in some strange sense. 

as she settled inside her own nivi, she found that sleep came easier that she expected. with her eyes shut, kyati could pretend there was wind humming softly beneath starlight.

her dreams brought her back to the usual place. it was an unidentifiable room within a great high-tree. a few nivi hung lazily from its ceiling, but remained unoccupied; just as the entire room was.

but kyati never had to wait for long. he haunted her; determinedly taunting her until she awoke  with a racing heart and the heavy drop of a stone in her stomach. his face was more vivid, sometimes, than her beloved caves. neteyam te suli tsyeyk'itan would sneak up behind kyati like a ghost and place his hand on her shoulder. sometimes she felt as if she could feel it. she would turn her head to see his smiling face.

in the good dreams, he would lean in and press his lips to hers. in the bad ones, he flickered in and out of focus until kyati reached her own hands out to grab ahold of him, only to find that the only thing she clutched between her fingers was air.

⏜⏝⏜⏝

when kyati awoke for the fourth day back in the caves, she could hear very little commotion coming from the central cave. it was like she'd had cool water splashed onto her face; kyati sprung lightly to the ground and tied her hair back. a smidge of a smile crept onto her lips as she found no one—save for ila'am, who was curiously passed out near the vines of eywa—occupying the great cave.

it had been far too long since she'd gotten just a moment to herself, nor a chance to climb the rocky wall. she made her way to the flattest part of the cave's walls and reached her hands out, more through instinct and memory than anything. the wall itself was more or less a perfectly uniform curve, stretching many strides across. kyati's nimble fingers found a familiar crevice in the rock, barely any larger than the ridge in a tree's bark, and molded to the fissure with ease. the girl began climbing upwards, until the only thing that occupied her mind was where she could place her fingers or toes next, in order to haul her body higher.

but as she continued to climb, the sopyu awoke with the morning. inevitably, they gathered in the central cave—kyati heard the mindless chorus of their conversations and even felt their stares as she came close to the top of the cave. ignore them, she told herself. it was difficult. she managed to drown them out, however, until she managed to reach the top. the ceiling of the cave. as tradition demanded, kyati reached a hand up and swiped against the stone. an almost-glittery, maroon-coloured mineral came onto her fingers. with it, she drew a deep v on her sternum before beginning her descent.

the last thing she wanted to do as she got to the ground was come face-to-face with haka'i. but of course this is what happened. she asked him, in her usual tone, what he wanted from her this time. please let this stop, she begged in her mind to eywa.

"we cannot ignore each other forever, kyati."

"i can try." she did not get the chance to walk away. haka'i's broad, calloused hand encased her arm; holding her back so she would have to pay attention to him.

"kyati," he emphasised.

"haka'i," she mocked. "just leave me alone. i don't want to look at you, nor do i wish to speak with you." by the look on his face, she knew exactly what he was thinking: if you abandon our fate, set by eywa, you will leave behind everything you have just done. would you really give up this for a random omatikaya boy? kyati would not tolerate that. she looked straight into his blazing eyes; betraying her heart. pushing down the pang of guilt determined to claw its way up her throat and take back everything.

and here were the occasional thoughts again: why could she not love haka'i? in a perfect world, eywa would not have drawn kyati to neteyam, and she would still be content to fulfill her predestined duties. in a perfect world, kyati would have fallen in love with haka'i, like many of the other girls that would love to trade places with her. this was not a perfect world.

"don't say it," she panned, ripping her arm harshly from his grip. and then kyati was on her way back to her personal alcove, where she planned to spend the rest of the day moping around. was it childish and immature?—yes. but she would do it anyway, if just to prove a point or continue her determined streak.

⏜⏝⏜⏝

as the day was blissfully erased from kyati's mind, she fell into sleep again, where she could pretend her life had turned out differently, somehow. when she found herself in the empty room again, kyati smiled and turned most enthusiastically around to find neteyam already there, gazing at her attentively.

neyetam, she wanted to whisper, but nothing came from her lips. it didn't matter; he didn't need her words to know. she was lucky this time around; neteyam stroked her cheeks with his hands and kissed her softly. but his face swum in and out of her vision like a watery reflection, and his lips weren't warm, like she knew they would be if he were real. she awoke to find herself the only one in an awakened state. the air was cold; kyati shivered under its weight and her loneliness.

before kyati knew it, her feet were in a constant cycle of pacing around her alcove. the stone cooled the soles of her feet, and thoughts buzzed unrelentingly in her mind, even as she tried desperately to subdue them. it seemed that it was no use. heart still racing with the memory of the dream, kyati climbed back into her nivi. sleep came troublesomely, but it did in the end. it was impossible to shake the feeling of her lips on his own. it was both consolation and discomfort. 

translations

spxam = mushroom

nivi = sleeping hammock

[neteyam] te suli tsyeyk'itan = [neteyam] of the sully, son of jake