Eyes Without a Face

Chapter One

The slow rocking back and forth of the sampan was calming enough that even the most active of na'vi would have trouble keeping their eyes from drooping shut, and it was only the searing pain shooting up Neteyam's torso that kept him from doing so. His aching torso was dotted with bruises and cuts, reminders of the fight they had just weeks earlier.

Only a week into their stay at Awa'atlu, and they had already brought the destruction of the Metkayina's home.

Neteyam didn't miss the look of grief and anger behind glazed eyes when the Metkayina looked at them. They had every right to be vengeful, hateful and hold a grudge against the Sullys. They had just lost their home because of the strangers they had let stay, and with nothing in return. When Quaritch and his men attacked Awa'atlu they had the element of surprise on their side. Under the cover of night, they had set fire to the marui and mangrove roots. Many had died, and the Sully family had barely escaped with their lives. They had taken to the ocean aboard a voyaging canoe, along with Tonowari and his family and a friend.

The boat was barely big enough for the group to comfortably spread out. A few of them had time to grab as many supplies as they could, but most made it out with only their lives. The Metakina had insisted on returning for their clan at first, but seeing their home go up in flames they knew there was no hope with just the few of them.

So here they were now, aboard a great voyaging canoe, seeking The Frozen Isles in the north. The na'vi inhabiting the isles were said to be warriors of such might they could bring down the largest of beasts with ease. These were of course over exaggerated rumours, spread in the wake of their shut off lifestyle. But who really knew? None had travelled to the North after the snowstorms began raging like a barrier, shutting the outside world off. Many had taken that as a warning that the ice na'vi were not kind to travellers, some even said the snowstorms were the work of dark magic.

But the barrier-like storms and resilient warriors of the north were their only hope in the safety of their families and hopefully aid in the war.

They had sailed for a week, and finally reached the large imposing cloud of mist covering the isles. The storms were as deadly and rageful as the rumours said. Many times Neteyam had barely kept himself aboard the boat, and even more times he'd had to grab onto his siblings to stop their tumbling descent into the ocean. It felt like weeks that they were in the body of rage. The winds had almost taken their sails, and stolen the children. The waves and snow covered the canoe in a layer of water and frost. They had taken to huddling together for warmth, wrapped in woven shawls and blankets of large leaves. Luckily they reached a current of calm waters before one of them lost their life in the storm. Now they waited desperately, drifting with the current day upon day.

Neteyam felt Tuk shivering at his side and huddled closer to her, doing his best to heat her body.

The food they had managed to grab in their flee was long gone, consumed along with the water packed into waterskins.

He licked his dry lips, wincing at the frost immediately settling on his tongue. He wished they had at least brought more shawls and blankets, but with the surprise of the attack they had to make do with the pre-packed supplies stored in the boat in case of emergencies.

A small shove at his side woke him from his daze. Tuk looked up at him with big yellow eyes and a toothy grin.

Neteyam missed when the same grin plastered her face from dusk to dawn.

"Look Neteyam! Look!" her dry throat croaked out as she pointed excitedly ahead of them. Neteyam followed her finger, eyes widening a little when he spotted an unmistakable shoreline ahead of them. Neteyam stood slowly, wincing as his bruised skin pulled with his muscles. The other na'vi had also risen at Tuk's exclamation.

The Metkayina leapt into the water one by one, quickly approaching the shore with a few beats of their tails.

The boat skidded to a stop as it ploughed into thick rock and snow. His toes felt like they were freezing off, sinking into the frosty ground.

No village nor na'vi were in sight, and with the view cut short by the wall of mist it was impossible to navigate their surroundings.

Neytiri and Jake discussed their next course of action with each other, snuggling Tuk into their body heat.

Neteyam strained his ears and eyes, searching for a scent, sound or faded image indicating any sign of life.

Lo'ak poked his shoulder, pointing to a large footprint moulded into the snow that he was prodding with a stray stick. The imprint was about the size of a thanators, large with deadly claw prints. The brothers followed the trail of footprints, which went on for a few more metres before fading into the snow.

Neytiri appeared beside the two, frowning at the footprints and hurrying them back to the group.

"I say we follow the shoreline." Ao'nung petitioned, obviously only wanting to stay near the ocean, no matter the temperature.

"Inland is the best option," Tonowari ignored Ao'nung's suggestion, " find the nearest river and follow it. A village is most likely near a river."

Ronal nodded in agreement, turning to retrieve whatever she thought useful from the boat.

She returned with four leather sacks holding herbs, medicines and blankets, handing them out to the oldest of the group.

Few words were exchanged between the group as they headed into the mist, an uncomfortable awkwardness still settling around them everywhere they went. Neteyam couldn't blame them for harbouring any hatred towards them. They had brought the destruction of their home with them in their stay at Awa'atlu. Neteyam could only pray they could be forgiven.