Blood and Water | Neteyam

So Long, We Become the Flowers ∼ 30

The rest of the day was a whirlwind of nervous looks and being on edge. Tcelia kept glancing over her shoulder every time she heard a sound, sure that it was Quaritch who had come for them. She kept telling herself to calm down and that she was silly for being so paranoid, but she couldn't help herself.

It wasn't that she was scared for herself, of being taken or even killed. She was terrified of Quaritch finding Jake and forcing him to part from his family, from the life he had managed to build over the past eighteen years. She couldn't bear the thought of it, couldn't bear the sorrow that ignited in her heart when unwanted pictures flashed through her mind of Neteyam's slumped shoulders, Lo'ak's angry eyes, Neytiri's screams, Kiri cradling a sobbing Tuk.

Tcelia vowed to herself that she would do everything in her power for those visions not to become true, but she felt helpless. What could she do to prevent anything from happening, when she felt physically ill every time she imagined killing anyone again? Perhaps it was a good thing that she had never truly become a warrior, she thought bitterly, maybe she could still become a gatherer or something.

If they ever returned to the forest that was. Although Tcelia would sooner die than become a gatherer; nothing sounded more boring to her. Besides, she would have to give up Niwin if she stepped down as a hunter. And that was not an option. She would just have to get over herself and accept the fact that killing came with being a warrior. The next time she faced the enemy, she would kill them, and she would not fail.

---

Tcelia was alone in the dark. Her eyes were frantically scanning the landscape for any familiarity, but she was sure she had never been there before. Strange noises came from trees around her, and the shadows seemed to be moving, despite there being no wind.

Suddenly, she saw a figure in the distance, illuminated by a faint light. Her heart was slamming behind her ribs as she knocked an arrow, taking her aim. She could see his cruel sneer even from a distance, could see a glint in his eyes that showed how much he was enjoying this. He was aiming his own weapon at her, ready to pull the trigger as he sneered at her.

Rain started to fall, thick and heavy, constricting Tcelia's breath, caging her down, suffocating her. She could not kill him, could not take another life. The man mocked her, and Tcelia watched in horror as his face contorted, taking the form of Quaritch. Tcelia's insides twisted as she forced herself to release the arrow, letting it fly. He dropped the gun and spread out his arms, exposing himself, as if willingly inviting the arrow to find his heart.

Tcelia screamed as the face once again changed, and she watched as Jake's mouth formed a surprised oh, as he grasped the arrow protruding from his chest. He fell to the wet ground with a sickening thump, lying motionless. Tcelia was screaming as she tried to run to him, but her legs were suddenly heavy, and she was rooted to the ground.

Laughter echoed all around her and suddenly she was at the beach, reaching for Neteyam's hand, apologies streaming out of her mouth like a constant waterfall. His face was contorted into a mask of pure loathing, almost unrecognizable. Suddenly Lo'ak and Kiri were by his side, their expression mirroring Neteyam's. Tcelia sobbed as she sank to her knees, squeezing her eyes shut and covered her ears as they hissed at her, shouting that it was her fault that their dad was dead, her fault, her fault, her fault.

She gasped awake, lurching into a sitting position, eyes frantically darting around, trying to figure out where she was. Her heart was pounding in her ears, and she couldn't seem to get any air into her lungs as she wheezed, the remnants of the dream pressing down on her, choking her just like the rain had. It seemed that even in sleep she couldn't escape the dread she felt for Jake. It had followed her into her dreams.