Chapter Text
It had been weeks since the Sullys sought uturu among the Metkayina clan in Awa’atlu village.
Long enough for routines to begin forming around them.
Long enough for the ocean no longer to feel entirely foreign beneath Jake’s feet.
The reef people still watched them sometimes—careful, cautious, waiting to see if trouble would follow the forest family into their waters the same way storms followed dark clouds across open seas.
Jake understood their caution.
Trouble always followed him eventually.
Still, things had settled more than he expected.
The fight between the boys and Ao’nung’s group had faded into uneasy tolerance. Lo’ak had recovered from the akula attack. Neteyam adapted quickly to reef life while Kiri disappeared into the ocean whenever possible, drawn toward the reefs with quiet fascination.
Even Neytiri had begun relaxing slightly these past few weeks.
Slightly.
According to Max and the others, the RDA had not moved toward reef territory yet. No unusual ship activity. No large scouting operations near the eastern waters.
Jake trusted the silence about as much as he trusted Spider to keep his mouth sealed.
But for now, peace remained.
And peace meant breathing room.
Warm wind swept through Awa’atlu that afternoon, carrying saltwater through woven marui structures suspended above clear shallow waters. Children’s laughter drifted somewhere nearby while ilu cries echoed across distant reefs beneath the golden afternoon sun.
Jake stood near the outer walkways beside Tonowari and several Metkayina hunters discussing patrol routes.
“The southern currents remain clear,” one hunter reported calmly. “No metal ships.”
Tonowari nodded once.
Jake folded his arms loosely. “That can change fast.”
“It always does,” Tonowari replied quietly.
Nearby, Ronal sat beneath shade woven from reeds and shells while sorting medicinal plants into shallow baskets beside several Metkayina women. Her expression remained unreadable as usual, though Jake noticed the occasional glance she sent toward him whenever RDA discussions surfaced.
She still did not trust his family fully.
Jake couldn’t blame her for that either.
It was much more later when a sharp cry suddenly cut through the shoreline air.
Female.
Alarmed.
Every hunter straightened immediately.
Another voice followed seconds later farther down the mangrove coast.
Urgent.
Not playful.
Jake’s body reacted before his mind fully did. Tonowari was already moving. “Come.”
The group hurried down the shoreline together while more distant shouting carried through the wind ahead.
Something was wrong.
Jake felt it immediately.
Years of war had sharpened instincts he no longer knew how to turn off.
The mangrove edges came into view quickly beyond curving sands and shallow tidal pools. A young Metkayina woman stood near the shoreline clutching a woven carrying cloth tightly against herself, her expression visibly shaken. Behind her legs hid a small child staring wide-eyed toward the waterline.
Several hunters reached her first.
“What has happened?” Tonowari demanded softly as he neared the frightened woman.
She pointed toward the shore with trembling fingers.
Jake stepped past them—
And stopped cold.
A human girl lay half-collapsed against wet sand near the mangrove roots.
Blood surrounded her.
For one brief moment, absolute silence settled across the shoreline. Every single person present stared at the body in shock and disbelief.
And worry.
Because humans did not simply appear bleeding on Metkayina shores.
Jake sprinted forward immediately.
As he dropped to one knee beside the girl, he realized instantly just how young she was.
Very young.
Probably somewhere near Lo’ak’s age if he guessed correctly.
Maybe younger.
Dark hair stuck damply against her face, partially covering bruised skin and dried blood along her temple. Her clothes looked strange here—soft pale fabric with thin white stripes, soaked through dark crimson along her right side.
“Sky people.”
Ronal’s words were spoken with venom, but Jake caught the hint of unease beneath them.
“She’s a young injured human girl,” Jake said sharply, his voice tightening slightly at the amount of blood staining the sand beneath her.
He scanned her injuries quickly.
A deep gash across her right side.
Bruising.
Head trauma.
All recent.
Very recent.
Jake pressed two fingers carefully against her neck until he found her pulse.
Weak.
Rapid.
But there.
Relief loosened something tight in his chest. “We can still save her.”
Jake looked behind him as he spoke, his eyes landing directly on Ronal.
The tsahìk hissed softly.
“That is a sky person. She could be here to spy and tell their kind about everything.”
Jake gestured toward the unconscious teenager sharply.
“How can she be one? Look at her. She’s young and bleeding.”
“Enough.”
Tonowari stepped forward, his voice firm with authority.
“My love, we can discuss this later. That is a child, no matter who she is.”
Ronal hissed again, one hand instinctively resting against her growing pregnant belly. Her sharp eyes swept carefully over the wounded girl before she finally gave a reluctant nod.
Jake wasted no more time.
He carefully slid one arm beneath the girl’s shoulders while supporting her injured side with the other.
Even unconscious, she reacted weakly.
A broken sound escaped her throat as pain twisted across her face.
“Easy, kid,” Jake muttered automatically.
The girl’s head lolled slightly against his arm.
Too light.
Too fragile.
Human.
Jake hated how small she felt compared to Na’vi children.
One of the hunters frowned deeply. “Where did she come from?”
No one answered.
Because nobody knew.
There were no tracks nearby besides hers and the Metkayina woman who found her. No wreckage. No ship. No signs of human equipment anywhere along the shoreline.
It made no sense.
Humans could not survive alone on Pandora without masks or oxygen support.
Yet here she was.
Breathing.
Bleeding.
Alive.
Jake adjusted his grip carefully as the group began making their way back toward the village. The shoreline felt strangely quiet now.
Only ocean wind and distant waves filled the silence between them.
The Metkayina hunters stayed tense the entire walk back, eyes scanning the surrounding mangroves as though expecting more humans to appear from the trees.
Jake couldn’t entirely blame them.
Something about this situation felt wrong.
Very wrong.
The girl stirred again halfway back toward the village.
Her brows furrowed weakly before her eyelids fluttered open.
Dark brown eyes stared upward unfocused at first.
Disoriented.
Confused.
Jake watched awareness struggle slowly across her face as she blinked against the bright sunlight overhead.
Her breathing hitched painfully.
For a few long seconds, she simply stared around without understanding.
At the sky.
At the ocean.
At the unfamiliar blue figures surrounding her.
Fear came immediately afterward.
“No…”
The word escaped weakly.
Her gaze darted wildly between faces and shoreline, confusion rapidly turning into panic as she tried weakly pulling away.
Pain hit instantly.
A sharp cry tore from her throat as fresh blood spread through the soaked fabric along her side.
“Hey— easy,” Jake said quickly, tightening his hold carefully so she would not fall.
The girl’s breathing turned ragged.
She looked terrified.
Not because she recognized them—because she didn’t.
That much Jake could tell now.
She looked like someone thrown into a nightmare she couldn’t understand.
Her eyes remained wide as she stared openly at the Na’vi hunters surrounding her.
At their skin.
Their height.
Their eyes.
One hunter stepped slightly closer.
The girl flinched so violently Jake immediately held out a hand to stop him.
“Back up.”
The hunter obeyed reluctantly.
The girl swallowed shakily, her face pale beneath streaks of dried blood.
“…where…” she whispered weakly.
Jake frowned slightly.
Good question.
The girl’s eyes drifted upward again toward the glowing mangroves overhead swaying gently beneath ocean wind.
Then toward the endless bright horizon beyond the reef waters.
Confusion deepened visibly across her expression.
Like nothing around her made sense.
Jake suddenly felt a strange twist of sympathy in his chest.
Because whatever happened to this kid— she clearly had no idea where she was.
Her eyes slowly began losing focus again.
Exhaustion.
Shock.
Blood loss.
Jake adjusted his grip as her head slumped weakly against his arm. “She fades again,” one healer observed quietly.
The girl murmured something faint beneath uneven breaths, but the words barely sounded coherent.
Then consciousness slipped away completely once more.
Jake stared down at her silently for a moment before continuing toward the village.
Questions could wait.
Keeping her alive came first.
The moment the group entered Awa’atlu carrying an injured human child, the entire village shifted.
Conversation stopped.
Children stared openly from the walkways.
Several Metkayina adults moved protectively closer toward their families.
Whispers spread quickly beneath woven marui shelters as Jake carried the unconscious girl through the village.
Sky person.
Human child.
Blood.
The words traveled fast.
Jake ignored all of it.
“Move,” he ordered sharply as several younger villagers blocked the walkway in shock.
They scattered immediately.
Ronal moved ahead of them toward her healing marui while several Metkayina women quickly began preparing woven mats and medicinal supplies inside.
Jake ducked through the entrance carefully before lowering the girl onto the prepared mats. Without movement, she somehow looked even younger.
Fourteen at most.
Maybe thirteen.
A kid.
Just a kid.
Ronal knelt beside the wound immediately while Jake stepped back enough to give her space. The tsahìk carefully peeled the soaked fabric away from the injury.
Several healers nearby inhaled sharply.
The wound stretched deeper than expected.
Jagged.
Ugly.
Definitely caused by metal.
“She has lost too much blood,” one healer murmured quietly.
Jake’s jaw tightened.
Ronal pressed carefully around the wound.
The girl reacted instantly even unconsciously, body tensing sharply from pain.
“She should not have survived this long,” Ronal admitted quietly.
Jake crossed his arms tightly. “Can you treat it?”
Ronal glanced up briefly.
“I can close the wound. But humans are weak-bodied. Internal injuries may still remain.”
Not reassuring.
Jake already turned toward the marui entrance.
“I’m calling Norm and Max.”
Ronal immediately straightened.
“No.”
Jake looked back at her. “No?”
“We do not need more sky people inside Awa’atlu.”
“She’s human, Ronal. Human medicine could keep her alive.”
“And human medicine brought death to this world.” Jake’s expression hardened slightly.
“And leaving a fourteen-year-old girl bleeding out on the floor would somehow make us better?”
Silence stretched tightly inside the marui.
Tonowari stepped between them before the argument could worsen.
“Enough.”
Both Jake and Ronal fell silent.
The olo’eyktan looked toward the unconscious girl resting pale and bloodied against the woven mats.
Then toward Jake.
“Call your scientists.”
Ronal hissed softly in irritation but did not argue further.
Jake exhaled quietly in relief.
“Thank you.”
Tonowari’s gaze remained fixed on the girl. “She arrived under Eywa without explanation,” he said slowly. “Until we understand why, caution remains necessary.”
Jake nodded once.
Fair enough.
As he stepped back outside into the warm reef air, distant whispers still moved through the village behind him.
Everyone knew by now.
Everyone was watching.
Jake glanced once toward the horizon where the endless ocean stretched beneath the setting sun.
Peace no longer existed here.
Not after today.
Because somewhere behind him inside Ronal’s healing marui lay an injured human girl who should not exist on Pandora.
And Jake Sully had the growing feeling that once she finally woke up—
everything was about to change.