chapter ten
Chapter Ten
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Your routine became aggressively simple. You woke early, doing the minimum to assure your human body would function before linking into your avatar. You spent your mornings with Tsonu’e, weaving baskets and nets. Ronal would find you around midday, and you would dive with her to search for medicinal plants. Sometimes, you would take an ilu—you never went beyond the reef.
It was there, with Ronal that you improved the most. Your ability to hold your breath had already been good from swimming with Ame, but you could now hold your breath for close to 20 minutes—drastically longer then your human body could ever dream of. Your sign had improved too, and you and Ronal could hold conversations underwater, teasing each other and gossiping away from prying eyes.
At night, you and Tsonu’e met back up for the evening meal. You’d sit beside her, telling her about your day as she did the same. She would fix your hair before bed, telling you stories about the people.
And the next morning, you’d do it all over again. Sometimes, your chores would change—but somehow, you had become Hana the basket weaver. And that was just fine with you.
It was midday, the sun high in the sky. Ronal had found you that morning to tell you that she would not be able to dive with you today, as she had matters to attend too. You understood, but it didn’t stop the sharp feeling of disappointment from curling in your chest.
Then Tonowari found you. You had not seen him since that day with Ronal on the beach, where she had left early. If Ronal was busy, Tonowari was busier. You’d seen him around, but there had been no chance to speak with him.
“Tonowari,” you said, sputtering. Tsonu’e smirked at you, and you quickly said, “I see you.”
“I see you,” he said, addressing the group. To you, he said, “Hana, will you come?”
Your knee jerk reaction was too say no, but instead, almost against your own will, your head bobbed and you grabbed his offered hand. You’d just finished the necklace you were weaving, finally having decided on a use for that turquoise shell you’d found with Tsonu’e several weeks back. A month, at least. Time had started to blur together. You weren’t even sure what day of the week it was anymore.
Your brain stuttered for a minute as your hand touched his. His hand was warm, firm. You stood there for a moment, staring at your joined hands before your mind caught up with reality. You dropped his hand, fidgeting with the necklace in your hand as he started to lead you away.
“Did you make it?” he asked suddenly, eyes on the necklace in your hand. You floundered, feeling goofy as you nodded.
“Uh, yes.”
“It is very nice,” he said kindly. Your heart skipped a beat.
Impulsively, you held it out to him. “Do you want it?”
His eyes widened a little. Frantically, you babbled, “I was going to give it to Ronal—but I noticed she likes white shells more. So I was going to give her the one I made yesterday. You don’t have to take it. I just, uh. Yeah.”
Gently, he took the offered necklace. “Thank you.”
Your heart did a backflip, and butterflies exploded in your stomach. Tonowari drew to a stop in front of a marui. Ronal stood inside with the Tsahìk, and you could have passed out then.
“Hi,” you nearly wheezed.
The tsahìk saved you from any more humiliation. “Come sit. You have earned a mark.”
Your brain stopped. Your breath stopped. You felt like a computer someone had just unplugged. Did you unlink? Intelligently, you said, “I—wha?”
Ronal said, “You are Metkayina. We get markings to tell our life story. It is your turn.”
“Oh,” you breathed, wondering what the fuck you’d done to earn a tattoo.
Uäloä must have seen the look in your eye as she then said, “You have integrated into a new culture. A new people.”
Well, when she phrased it that way, it sounded a lot more impressive then, ‘You got good at basket weaving and made some close friends.’
“Congratulations,” said Tonowari.
You grinned, and stepped forward into the marui.
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Tattoos sucked. Ronal had carefully rubbed a paste on your shin, where the marking was going. Your skin tingled slightly, but you’d started off only feeling the pressure from the bone as Uäloä picked at your skin, tattooing you.
The pattern was simple, yet pretty. Some of the swirls reminded you so clearly of Ame—you knew inspiration had been taken from there, from your bond with her. Ronal explained it to you, your legs meant you were not a warrior, that your duties were elsewhere in the Metkayina. Just as important. If did not mean it hurt any less, once the numbing wore off.
Tonowari had left shortly before it began, Ronal allowed to stay only as tsakarem. This was between you and the tsahìk—you and Eywa.
Your shin burned, blood and plasma dripping down your leg. Ronal wiped it carefully, but you still winced at the sting. And then, it was done. Uäloä helped you stand, and Ronal wiped down the tattoo and carefully bandaged it.
“Do not get it wet until after it peels,” she advised. You blinked. She grinned. “It will be very itchy, but do not scratch while it heals.”
You limped back to your marui with Tsonu’e, even with Ronal helping you keep balance. Tsonu’e’s eyes widened, her lips parted and she rushed over.
“What happened?” she demanded of Ronal, her gaze fierce as she took your arm to steady you.
“Calm,” said Ronal. “She has only been tattooed.”
Tsonu’e calmed immediately. “Truly?”
“Yes,” you said, and she drew you into a tight hug. You hugged her back, your heart feeling full.
Ronal turned to leave, but before she could, you reached out. “Wait here, just a moment.”
She did, turning to look at you with her large eyes. Eclipse was nearing now, but even in the dim light they seemed to shine.
You moved forward as fast as you dared into your corner of the marui, where you’d taken to storing all your projects. You found it quickly, a simple necklace with a large shell in the middle. It was simple, but you knew Ronal would like the pearls around it. Tsonu’e followed you inside, and began to poke at something at the fire.
You came back out, and held it out to her awkwardly.
Her mouth dropped open slightly, and her tanhì seemed to grow a little bit brighter, her cheeks a little more flushed.
“It’s for you,” you said simply. “I saw the shell and knew I wanted to give it to you.”
She looked up at you, her eyes wide and so, so pretty. “You made this for me?” she asked softly, sounding almost delicate.
You nodded. “Do you like it?”
“It’s beautiful,” she said, reaching out to take it carefully. You sighed with relief.
“I know you aren’t a big fan of blue, so I went ahead and gave that one to Tonowari. Do you think he will mind if I take it back to add more of those shells later? I know Tsonu’e found one similar yesterday.”
Her smile was sudden, large and breathtaking. Her eyes crinkled, and she sniffled a little as she said, “He would like that very much.”
“Okay,” you said, a little unsure. “That’s good.”
She seemed like she wanted to say something, but wasn’t sure how. Finally, Ronal’s eyes locked with yours, and she grabbed your hand. “It’s beautiful,” she said. “Thank you.”
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The Cove of Ancestors is stunning. Your rode on the back of Tsonu’e’s ilu, pressed closely to her. You had never been here before. Tsonu’e dismounted the ilu, grabbing your hand as she dove under. You followed her, watching as she connected her tswin to the plant. You could only describe it as resembling as sea anemone—not that you had ever seen one on Earth outside of photographs. It was large, swaying slightly in the water. Carefully, you swam forward, and copied Tsonu’e’s actions.
From your time with the Metkayina, you had grown to respect their love of Eywa, even though you remained more skeptical.
Your doubt washed away as you connected to the spirit tree. You were back in your marui with Tsonu’e. She was crouched over the fire, a little girl between her legs. She looked up as you entered, smiling.
“Eri,” she said to the little girl. The little girl looked up, her hair loose and free—curly like yours. Her eyes were the color of the sky. “This is Hana.”
You squatted down. “I see you, Eri.”
She looked away shyly. “I see you, Hana.”
Tsonu’e’s smile was beautiful.