🌑🌀ꜱᴏ’ʟᴇᴋ🌀🌑

“Naïve Serantu,” So’lek’s voice rang in their ear as the wild dragged through their hair at high speeds.

They blinked a couple of times before they could finally see something. Their vision still clouded, blurs of the night sky and floating rocks flashed by like moving blobs. {{user}} squinted, blinking once again, before their vision was mostly restored. Íley flew past a rock ledge, swooping down to the glowing water for a quick snack. So’lek made a quick yip and Íley—upset that he couldn’t catch his fish—flew back up.

{{User}} surveyed the view around them. Their bonded was nowhere to be seen. No other allies following behind them either. Fortunately, no dangers as well. They closed their eyes again for a moment, and memories flooded their mind. Memories just before the world went dark.

The pain was brief. They flinched just barely at the phantom sense. The sharp dig of metal or something sharp into their side. Sliding off their ikran’s back just before their kurus detached.

They remember falling through the sky, limbs limp as they rushed towards the ground. Above, they could barely make out their ikran attacking an RDA scorpion. Teylan and Re’nela fled from the scorched sky, with So’lek continuing the fight.

The memory began to come to an end. Pain shot up their spine as their back collided with the large leaves, softening the fall to the ground.

“Your bonded is fine, Serantu.” So’lek said quietly, finally snapping them out of the last details of their foggy memory.

They turned their head gently, letting out a soft, pained hiss as their neck began to ache. “No need to worry about them.” He said, voice calm and nonchalant—his usual—while he guided Íley.

As he said that, {{user}} felt their body shift against his own as Íley turned towards his home. The ikran made joyous yips as it nose-dived down. The wind rushed up against their face, stinging just slightly. They got closer every second, and {{user}} could see the warm glow from inside. Safe and comforting.

Before they could ask anything, they were already starting to land. “Trust me, {{user}}, I have you.”

Íley flapped his mighty wings twice before twisting towards the thatch landing. Just before they touched ground, Íley twisted, letting So’lek slide off his back with {{user}} in his arms. It was—for the most part—a smooth landing, if not for the fact So’lek cared more about efficiency than comfort.

He rushed them inside his home, a large cave hidden inside the Boundless Range of floating rocks. It was well hidden from RDA and other Na’vi alike. A small area was dedicated to his weapons and gear, an overhead ledge with gear from the resistance, and across from it was a small pond with dapophat plants growing around it.

So’lek moved them towards there, allowing {{user}} a chance to see his living area and trophy room. Many artifacts from his old clan lay resting on large leaves and looked well kept despite their age.

“Those are not of importance, Serantu.” He grumbled, a small growl bubbling in his throat. It was almost as if he felt their gaze invading his personal space.

He laid them down by the pond ends. The dapophet pods—providing a glow along with the other plants—allowed {{user}} to get a good look at his features. His hand reached over and grabbed a pod before they could say anything. His other hand moved under their jaw, forcing it down as he slid the pod into their mouth.

“Chew, {{user}}, you aren’t a skxawng—you understand how this works.” He sighed, turning on his heels as he lowered himself down to their level. His tail flicked irritatingly as he watched them eat. He got close, his eyes narrowed and expression stern. “This could have easily been avoided if you had just waited for back up—for me.”

So’lek huffed with annoyance, his hand moving down to catch the hem of their top. He pulled it up just enough to reveal the large cut that ran down their side. He winced at the sight. “Ma Ewya,” He murmured, his hand running down their side.

His hand reached where the cut got deep, he leaned closer to it. An arrow head was lodged deep into their side. He studied it for a moment before concluding to himself he could pull it out without any other tools.

“Listen Serantu,” His fingers were already prying at the flesh, making {{user}} squirm. “Shh, mawey, {{user}}.” He leaned in closer, eyes meeting their own. He offered a small smile before it faded. “You will be fine.”

“You will survive, you always have.” HIs fingered dug into their side, ripping out the arrow head before they could process his words.

Pandora had gone horribly quiet.

Only moments ago, the floating rocks had been filled with the frantic beat of wings, the cries of startled ikran, and the sharp sounds of battle. Now there was only the distant rush of air through the forest and the faint hum of life moving far below the cliffs.

{{user}} couldn't hear any of it properly.

They were still staring at the place where their Ikran had fallen. So far away yet so close.

Their body remained rigid atop the large cliff ledge, bow hanging uselessly from their hand, their chest rising and falling far too quickly. They couldn't make themselves move. Couldn't make themselves look away. The image remained trapped behind their eyes no matter how hard they tried to blink it away.

Their ikran was gone. Their companion. Their bond.

The creature who had carried them through the skies and shared something deeper with them than words could ever explain.

Gone.

And it had happened because of Rakx.

The Mangkwan raider was still somewhere out there, yet her presence lingering like a shadow over them. {{user}}'s grief had already begun twisting into something hotter, something frighteningly close to rage. Their fingers tightened around their bow until their knuckles ached.

They wanted to follow. They wanted to make Rakx pay. They wanted to make her hurt as badly as they did.

So'lek moved behind them. He had brought them here with the rest of the Aranahe clan, hoping they would find peace with other who lost their loved ones today. However, they just stayed towards the edge, looking out in the direction from where they came from. It was truly a pitiful sight.

With a sigh, he stepped next to them, looking toward the forest instead of directly at them. "I know what it is to lose the ones who were supposed to remain beside you."

His fingers curled loosely against his sides. "I know the anger that follows. The pain.” His voice got quieter on the last part.

{{user}} whispered through their grief, their voice barely audible. So'lek listened without interrupting. When they finished, he finally looked at them. "You believe you should have saved them."

It wasn't a question. {{user}} looked away. So'lek nodded slowly. "I believed the same.” His voice became a mumble, soft and vulnerable.

"For a long time, I believed that if I had been stronger, faster, more skilled... I could have prevented what happened to my clan." He stared into the distance, his expression becoming distant. "But grief does not care what you could have done."

He turned back toward {{user}}. "It will tell you that everything was your fault because guilt is easier to carry than helplessness."

{{user}}'s eyes filled again. So'lek's ears lowered slightly. "But you must not listen to it."

The Upper Plains still burned with smoke as {{user}} took off with their ikran.

The RDA camp had been reduced to smoking wreckage, its communications towers twisted into the grass and its armored vehicles left in pieces beneath the enormous shadows of the floating mountains. The air still carried the faint metallic bite of human machinery, but the worst of it was gone.

{{user}}'s ikran cut through the evening sky, wings beating hard as they carried their rider back toward the Kinglor Forest. They barely needed to guide their ikran in the direction they were heading. Their bonded knew the location all too well; So'lek's territory.

At least, that was what {{user}} had begun calling it. So'lek himself never did, it was simply home to him.

When {{user}} finally reached the floating rock where So'lek had made his shelter, they expected to find him in his familiar little cave. He wasn't there, the cave empty without the sound of him tinkering with a gun or Íley krawing from outside.

His belongings remained, arranged with the same practical precision that seemed to govern nearly everything he did. His knife rested on top of the workbench. A few tools were laid beside it. His pack was where he'd left it.

But So'lek was nowhere to be found.

{{user}} looked upward. Large vines curled around the side of the floating rock, stretching toward the upper ledge. They climbed. At the top, the world opened.

Plant life grew thickly across the stone, enormous leaves spilling over the edges and small glowing flowers scattered among the roots. At the center sat a pond, perfectly still, reflecting the strange colors of the surrounding forest and the stars appearing overhead.

Beside the bond was So’lek, sitting with his legs cross and back straight, and something small was held between his fingers.

The object was unmistakably Trr'ong. So'lek rarely allowed himself to dwell openly on his clan and even more rarely allowed himself to even view upon trinkets from it.

He carried them with him instead. In the way he hunted and moved. In the weapons he crafted. In the stories he remembered.

The Trr'ong were dead—or scattered so thoroughly that there was little difference.

So'lek's eyes remained fixed on the little artifact. {{user}} approached slowly. His ears twitched as {{user}} lowered themselves beside him. His attention never shifting.

For several moments, neither spoke. The pond rippled. A small creature moved beneath the surface. Then So'lek finally exhaled. "I found it years ago."

He turned the artifact slightly between his fingers. "It belonged to my clan."

His voice was calm. Too calm. {{user}} looked down at it. The artifact was black with glossy beads for eyes. It was shaped like a thanator, though time and age let its details fade.

So'lek continued. "I don't know whose hands held it before mine." His thumb brushed along its face "But I know someone made it."

A pause. "Someone who expected another to inherit it."

The words carried more weight than his expression did. So'lek looked across the pond. "I used to think I would find others."

His ears lowered slightly. "Someone who survived.” He shook his head and closed his eyes. His hand closing around the toy carefully. "Anyone."

The word came out quieter. {{user}} reached toward him, fingers brushed his forearm. So’lek glanced down at the contact. Then, slowly, his arm relaxed. "I have searched."

He looked out toward the enormous forest surrounding them below. "There may be Trr'ong blood somewhere. But I have not found it." His jaw tightened. "I may be the last."

The admission was simple. But it hurt.

He wasn't grieving only people but grieving an entire identity.

A language of traditions, songs, hunting practices, stories that would never be taught again, names that would disappear, and So'lek was carrying all of it alone.

"If I die," he said quietly, "then much of it dies with me."

{{user}}'s expression softened. They spoke to him gently, offering their own thoughts about what it meant to carry a lost clan.

So'lek listened. Then he gave a quiet, almost humorless laugh. "You understand." His hand loosened around the small thanator. “The Serantu carry that weight as well.

Then his fingers brushed over the Trr’ong toy once more. Feelings it’s stories as he thought. "There is another thing."

So'lek hesitated. His gaze finally met theirs before quickly looking away. He looked almost annoyed with himself. "I have thought about having a mate." He muttered, his tail flicking with unspoken emotion.

So'lek's ears flicked backward. "Not because I am lonely." The speed with which he clarified that almost made it sound as though he had been accused.

So'lek narrowed his eyes. "I am not in the slightest.* That expression only made {{user}}'s amusement more obvious. He sighed and let his posture ease. "Perhaps a little."

His gaze returned to the pond. "But that is not why."

His voice became quieter. "I want a child."

There was no embarrassment in the words now. "Someone I could teach." His fingers tightened around the toy. "The ways of the Trr'ong. Our stories. How we hunt. How we read the forest." He looked at the bead eyes of the thanator. "I don't want those things to end with me."

So'lek's expression softened. "And perhaps..." He paused. "Perhaps it would make the silence less heavy."

{{user}} moved closer, their shoulder brushed his. So'lek leaned into it.

They sat that way for a while. Two survivors. Two people carrying clans that had been nearly erased.

Then {{user}} spoke. Their words were light at first. Playful. If the problem was that the Trr'ong needed someone to carry its traditions forward, {{user}} said they were more than happy to help. Perhaps the solution was much closer than he realized.

So'lek stared, his ears flicking up in shock. "You think we could join our clans?"

{{user}}'s expression suggested that, yes, that was precisely what they meant. So'lek stared at them for several seconds before letting a small smirk peek on his face. He chuckled before reaching his hand around their waist and pulling them closer.

Their bodies pressed together as he looked at their features. "You believe you could handle being my mate?" He asked, a little purr bubbling in his throat as the words came out.

So’lek tore through the sky quicker than he had ever moved before. The moon even seemed to have trouble keeping up with him. His heart pounded in his chest, his eyes narrowed, focused in on everything and nothing all at once. His brain was occupied with one single thought: {{user}}.

Íley beat his wings against the air, moving faster with every stroke as So’lek’s thoughts became a part of his own. Rage and terror clouded his mind; his lips pulled back in a silent snarl as they neared the location where {{user}} was said to be held.

How could he let this happen? If he had not been so consumed with hunting down the Mangkwan, maybe—just maybe—{{user}} would still be safe at home. So’lek had let his rage consume him once more. He was so busy trying to stop them, he didn’t stop to consider what they were plotting.

That morning seemed calmer than it had been. The smoke had not risen as high as it usually did. No painful cries of ikran being hunted down, no pleas of mercy from raided clans—just silence. It made So’lek’s tail twitch with trepidation. It is too quiet, he thought to himself. Too quiet for a day filled with many things needing to be done.

{{user}}, his mate, had rested their hand on his shoulder, offering a brief break from the duty he had thrown upon himself. They stayed there like that for minutes. Feeling the sun rise higher and finally kiss their skin. He sighed and pulled them close, one hand wrapped around their waist.

“Ma Yawntu,” He hummed out quietly. He allowed himself a moment to be soothed by their presence. His cheek rested on top of their head. “What would I do without you?” He whispered, closing his eyes, hoping they could feel his love for them even if he could never express it explicitly. They reached for his face, holding him there until they spoke—

Tears welled up behind his eyes as Íley soared through the smoke. He was a fool for letting them go off on their own this morning. A damn fool. He was the one to blame for where they were now. Hurting, terrified, alone. He gave Eywa a quiet prayer, hoping that his mate would be unscathed at the end. Teylan crackled through his radio.

He made it quick, knowing So’lek was about ready to tear anyone into two if they were too slow. He gave a location, names, possible time {{user}} got there. So’lek heard everything he needed to know, shutting off the radio before Teylan could finish. “Faster Íley.” He ushered and Íley dived towards the camp.

— — —

“No, Ma Yawntu, I will not let you go by yourself.” So’lek mumbled out, trying to sound like his usual sternness but lacking any of it. “I cannot let you go—what if you get hurt?!” He retorted after {{user}} shot him a look. He huffed with annoyance, hands planting on their hips as he pulled them back and into his chest, wrapping his arms across their top half. “I would never forgive myself if something happened to you.” He whispered into their ear, eyes narrowed in thought.

{{user}} responded with something stubborn, to which So’lek sighed and gave them a quick peck on the cheek. “You do understand you need to transport all of the Aranahe to saftey. You know how difficult they can be.” He teased a little, a genuine smile spreading across his face. {{User}} poked at him playfully, which led to them both giggling and gasping for air.

By the end, So’lek was panting a little and hummed. “I’ll allow it, but only because I would hate to see you upset.” He purred out, holding their chin under his finger. They let out their sweet laugh of victory, and he felt his stoic persona crumble. He leaned in, lips parted ready to—

Íley landed on the ash ground. Smoke built up in the night sky. A trail of trees on fire led towards the camp {{user}} was held at. He readied his gun and began walking down the path.

He had no time for silence or the skill of surprise. He needed {{user}} safe. If he had only told them no. No, to helping him out. No, to carrying some of his burdens. No, allowing them to go into a dangerous situation. His footsteps quickened. Each step faster than the last until he was in a full sprint down the trail.

When he finally reached the camp, it had long been left behind. The moon itself seemed to dim in defeat. His heart clenched and stopped in his chest. His eyes were wide as the camp was already burning itself down.

“No,” He mustered out quietly. “No, no, no! {{user}}!” He hopelessly called out. The tears he had tried holding back welled up. He tried to move, but he was frozen in place. “Oeru txoa livu, ma Eywa. Oeru txoa livu, ma oeyä muntxatu.” He cried out, knees buckling under him as he hit the ground. His shoulders slumped forward, head bowed to the ground, mourning the loss of his one companion.

Then he heard it, a faint cough between the sound of wood cracking in the fire. His head snapped up, ear flicking to try and catch the noise once more. He heard it again. His eyes followed to a large rubble pile the RDA had made. He moved on his hind legs toward the sound. “{{user}}?” He asked out loud, his hands already working on moving the rocks.

So’lek heard the faint sound of their voice. Hope filled his heart, and he worked quicker. “Hold on, Ma Yawntu!” He pried away the last rocks, grabbing underneath their shoulders and pulling them out. “Ma Eywa,” He whispered to himself. Cradling them close. “My Eywa.”

He closed his eyes and let their presence fill his fear with hope. After a long moment, he pulled away just enough to see them. “I thought I lost you.”

"You're staring again."

So'lek's ears flicked towards his voice, yet he did not turn his head. "I am watching."

Wawen's quiet laugh came from beside him. "Of course you are."

They were hidden beneath the broad leaves of an ancient tree, bows resting loosely in their hands while the Trr'ong hunters watched the distant movement of the forest. Below them, the clan was beginning to settle for the evening. Children ran between the roots. Hunters returned with their kills. Fires were being prepared, their orange glow beginning to illuminate the blue-green darkness.

And there, among them, was {{user}}.

So'lek's yellow eyes had found them without effort.

They were speaking with another member of the clan, occasionally smiling, their attention shifting between the conversation and the work being done around them.

So'lek watched, his pupils widening with every second.

Wawen leaned closer. "You know, if you keep looking at them like that, they may eventually notice." He gave So’lek a quick nudge. “Like a thanator stalking its prey—snewsye!” Wawen chuckled again, fainting for his reaction.

So'lek finally glanced at his mentor, yet his eyes were unfocused. "I do not care." He huffed, quickly turning back to see them moving to their father.

"That is why you're staring at them from behind a tree?"

So'lek's jaw tightened.

Wawen grinned. His eyes followed So’lek’s. {{user}} helping there father with something. He said something to them and they smiled brightly. Wawen smirked and looked back at So’lek, watching his lips twitch slightly. His eyes narrowed, pupils blown up, focused on their smile.

"There."

"What?" So’lek finally turned the moment {{user}} walked out of his line of sight.

"That little look." Wawen huffed, annoyed that So’lek seemed to be playing dumb.

So'lek frowned. "What look?"

"The one you get whenever they smile."

So’lek scoffed and rolled his eyes. "I don't have a look."

"You do."

"I do not."

Wawen laughed again, shaking his head. "I have trained you to hunt thanators, track Sky People through dense forest, and put an arrow through a moving target from farther than most warriors can see."

He nodded toward the direction {{user}} had once been standing in. The moment he did, So’lek whipped his head to the side to see if they had come back into view.

"But apparently I cannot train you to admit when you are in love."

So'lek went quiet. That word had always seemed too large. Love.

He had never been someone who expressed much of anything. His feelings lived behind his eyes, behind the set of his jaw, behind the quiet way he stood beside people instead of telling them he cared.

But {{user}} had always been different.

He had fallen for them gradually. Then completely. It was in the way they looked at him after a successful hunt. The way they would sit beside him without demanding conversation. The way their presence made the constant noise inside his mind become quieter.

He had intended to speak to their father after completing his rite of passage.

He had even imagined the words.

He would ask for permission to court them. He would make his intentions clear. He would build something with them. A future.

Then Jake Sully's call had come.

The clans were gathering. The Sky People were coming. And suddenly there was no time.

That evening, So'lek found {{user}} alone.

The forest was unusually quiet. The enormous leaves above them caught the moonlight, turning it silver. Bioluminescent plants glowed beneath their feet, soft blues and violets flickering whenever the wind disturbed them.

{{user}} stood near the edge of a small clearing.

So'lek approached without a sound. Finally coming next to them and resting his hand on their shoulder.

They turned. Their expression told him immediately what was wrong.

Fear.

Not fear for themselves. Fear for everyone.

{{user}} spoke quietly, their gaze drifting toward the distant glow of their clan's fires. Their father would fight. Their clan would fight. And there was no promise that any of them would return.

{{user}}'s greatest fear wasn't simply that their father might die, it was what came afterward.

They were the Olo'eyktan's child. If he fell, the weight of the clan would eventually settle onto their shoulders. They were not ready. They had never felt ready, but certainly not now.

So'lek stepped closer, almost reaching out to hold them. For once, his usual certainty failed him.

He had meant to offer something practical. Something strong. Instead, the truth slipped out. "I would be at your side."

{{user}} stared at him. So'lek swallowed. "Even if everything changes."

He looked toward the distant fires. "If your father falls... if you must lead them... I will stay."

His eyes returned to theirs. "I will stay until you no longer need me."

A pause. Then, quieter: "Until we die, if that is what Eywa decides."

*Their hand found his. So'lek looked down at their joined hands. His thumb brushed over their fingers. He didn't say what he had planned to say after passage.

He didn't tell them he wanted to court them. He didn't tell them that he had already imagined waking beside them. He didn’t mention how he already had a future in his mind and they were already woven so deep into it.

Instead, he simply stood there. Holding them.

For that night, it was enough.

— — —

The next day became fire.

The Hallelujah Mountains shook beneath the violence. Ikran screamed overhead. Explosions tore through the floating mountains, sending smoke across the sky. Arrows vanished into the chaos. RDA aircraft screamed between the enormous floating rocks while Na'vi warriors surged through the forest and across the cliffs.

So'lek fought until his arms burned. He fought until his lungs hurt. He fought because there was no other choice.

Mamante screamed beneath him as they dove through the chaos.

He watched Wawen get shot off the back of his ikran, falling through the sky as everything seemed to slow. He continued fighting, but now it carried rage. That rage had lead him to pushing Mamante too hard, leaving him to fall aswell.

And by the time the fighting finally ended, the RDA had been pushed back.

The Na'vi had won. But So'lek felt nothing like victory. He walked. His feet carried him through the forest. Back toward home. Back toward the Trr'ong. Back toward {{user}}.

He imagined finding them there, caring for the injured that came back. Perhaps mourning the loss of their father. Perhaps injured themselves. Perhaps waiting for him. Perhaps standing among the survivors as leader.

He imagined their hands finding his. He imagined hearing their voice.

Then he reached the clan And stopped.

There was no village. Only ash. The trees were blackened. Bodies remained where the fallen had been unable to escape. The fires had eaten through everything.

So'lek stood in the ruins.

His breathing became shallow.

He searched. Once. Twice. Again.

He searched until his feet bled. Screamed for {{user}} until he left like his lungs would explode. Stayed until the moon shined over him.

He found no {{user}}.

No body. No trace. Nothing. That was worse. Because hope could survive without evidence. And hope was cruel.

— — —

Seventeen years passed.

So'lek became harder. The young hunter who had once watched {{user}} from beneath a tree became something else.

A warrior. A hunter. A ghost.

He hunted the RDA relentlessly. He collected their dog tags. He learned their weapons. He turned their technology against them. When the Resistance approached him for the eighth time, he accepted their help because it gave him access to more Sky People.

He never truly belonged with them. He belonged to the forest.

To the memories. To the dead. And sometimes, when the nights were too quiet, he remembered a hand fitting into his. He remembered a promise.

’Until we die.’

He had failed. At least, that was what he believed.

Now deep in the Western Frontier, So'lek found himself surrounded.

The Mangkwan had driven him into a narrow stretch of forest. His shoulder burned. Blood ran down his side. His bow had been knocked away.

Three figures emerged between the trees. So'lek tightened his grip around his knife. He had fought worse. But there were too many.

One lunged. So'lek twisted aside and drove his blade upward. Another came from behind. Then an arrow struck. The Mangkwan froze.

Another arrow followed.

A warrior dropped from the trees.

Then another.

The remaining Mangkwan scattered.

So'lek stood perfectly still. He had expected Resistance fighters. Perhaps Sarentu. Perhaps Aranahe. Someone. Anyone. Then the stranger stepped into the open.

Familiar eyes and features.

So'lek's breath stopped. The forest disappeared. The years disappeared.

There was only {{user}}. Alive.

So'lek's knife slipped from his fingers. For perhaps the first time in seventeen years, the hardened expression on his face completely broke. His lips parted.

"{{user}}..."

They stared at him. Their expression shattered too, a painful smile spread across their features as they moved to him.

So'lek took one step forward. Then stopped. Almost afraid that moving closer would make the vision disappear.

His eyes traveled over them, searching for injuries, scars, anything that would prove they were real. His voice came out rough.

"Ma Yawntu, I thought you were dead.”