Chapter Text
Yellow eyes blink awkwardly, the bright beams of the hospital room aching them. She couldn’t place where she was, or how she got here. A dull ache in her jaw unsettled her as she slowly adjusted to the area.
She recognized this place, it buzzed in the back of her head as a thread. She tried to tug, but all she got was pain.
That’s when she noticed a man, human.
She knew him.
‘‘Do you remember your name?’’
She could taste the anticipation on the man’s breath: the unrestrained thirst for knowledge he carried, like every sky person before him. To him, she was another box to check, another step towards whatever plans they had for her.
‘‘No.’’ Her ears flicked. She refused to look up, staring at her hands as if the words of her resistance were mapped on them.
Even with the heavy cloud on her mind she knew what he wanted. They wanted to rehearse. She wanted silence.
They had always brought pain.
They pushed and pried until her body shuddered through experiences she had no recollection of. She rubbed the ache on the side of her neck, where a scar burned underneath her clothes.
The man questioning her stood many feet away. A distance that had never been crossed since the beginning of her memories. His bald head and rigid posture made him look more like a soldier than a scientist.
“Aha’ri,” His voice was exhausted. ‘‘They will keep making us do this until we get a clear recording. Please, make it easy this once.’’
“I’m tired.” Aha’ri turned away, staring at the machines strapped to her. She didn’t want to speak their native tongue.
Why couldn’t she remember coming here? She felt so out of place like there were gaps in her memories.
“Aha’ri.” The softness disappeared from his voice, replaced by the hard tone he was more accustomed to using.
‘‘Just answer the questions.’’
She finally looked at him. Giving him her attention cause she knew what would happen if she didn’t. The collar around her neck was sitting idly against her skin until he gave orders. Aha’ri knew she pushed enough today. Judging by the calloused, bruised skin beneath the collar.
“Fine,” Shame heated up her neck in a suffocating silence, “I’ll answer.”
‘‘Good.’’ His tone didn’t change. He seemed tired of holding the gentle edge he rehearsed for the recording. ‘‘Log 134, test 16.’’ He paused, letting the number fade out.
‘‘Do you remember your name?’’
“Aha’ri.” She watched his eyes flicker before she continued, ‘‘Test Participant of TAP Con-C and Project Phoenix.’’
‘‘Age?’’
‘‘19.’’
‘‘Do you remember how the RDA found you?’’
‘‘No.’’ Her head throbbed. ‘‘I only know that my clan abandoned me after a fatal wound. The RDA found me, and I owe my life to them.’’
‘‘What is your role?’’
‘‘An RDA asset to learn about the Na’vi.’’ The words tasted wrong. She was so tired of the prodding and tests. ‘‘An operative and guard for Molly Ossman.’’
‘‘Who am I?’’
The question hung in the air as the man slowly walked to a console.
Aha’ri watched him, nearly forgetting to answer. This was not what they wanted to rehearse. Something deep within her was telling her something was wrong.
‘‘You’re Dr. Ossman,’’ She finally said. ‘‘Sci-operator in the Avatar program.’’
Ossman clapped his hands once. ‘‘Thank you, Aha’ri. Now, the Phoenix program is new for you? Yes-’’
Aha’ri did not like this, the demon before her always liked to play tricks. Use the collar on her neck to force her to obey and listen. He didn’t care for her life. He did not care that her heart beat. She was his subject, and she feared she was in another trap.
Her gaze dropped to the restraints on her feet. Alarm rose in her chest.
“Ossman.” She hissed.
“That’s ‘Doctor Ossman’ to you.”
He pulled a lever that made metal arms reach down and restrain her. Ossman finally approached her. ‘‘They made an offer to me: permission to experiment on my specimen… you, Aha’ri, in exchange for reserving places for Molly and me in the program.’’
Aha’ri bared her teeth and thrashed against the restraints, but the arms only pressed her harder into the bed.
‘‘You still don’t realize how many times we’ve done this.’’ Ossman’s voice softened with fascination. ‘‘It’s truly remarkable how much that brain of yours can endure. Fascinating.’’
He took a syringe and drew blood from her arm.
‘‘This will be our final experiment in this project before we continue. We’re going to use your own soul drive and see how many times I can take your memories away, then give them back.’’
Aha’ri fought for breath as panic clawed at her chest.
‘‘Such expensive machinery wasted on someone like you,’’ Ossman murmured, examining the blood in the syringe. ‘‘Yet we must find every flaw. Every answer. You have already helped us with our Avatars, memory alteration, NeuroSect, and Controlled conditioning.’’
“There’s so much I can learn from you, Aha’ri. Thank you.”
She couldn’t even get a single note out before she felt the pressure. It was a harsh repeat of drowning, one she was used to from punishments where they trapped her in oxygen. Yet, there was no punishment here, just an experiment that was trifling through her head. It burned her skull in a blistering heat.
When the pain became too much, her mind slipped away. Back to dreams she hoped in and memories that were a tide. Ones that touched the sand, letting her reach it, then pulled away, leaving her in shambles.
Unlike her memories, her dreams were always the same.
Gliding over home, she looked below at the trees and colors they tried to drill her to forget. A world etched into her skin like a rooted rash. Drums would play, as if they were her wings. Every beat she swore she could hear singing, a hum she would repeat to the world of cold white. How she wished it to be real, to take her Tsmuktu’s there.
Her family. Her anchors. Her memories.
Aha’ri was the only one who truly remembered home. It was what set her apart from the rest, what made her different and a stone pillar for her family, her Soaia. TAP did not like that about her. They despised her mind, it was a stain they tried to scrub clean. Through punishment, through training, through the times they quarantined her because their insanity wanted her memories. They wanted her to forget.
Home was a tainted word that they screamed was sin. Her mother’s smile was what they called deceit. Her father's stories, they claim, were abandonment. She knows the truth. Aha’ri can still feel their love surrounding her center of mass, like protection against their darkness. She refuses to kneel to man, demons who wished to own their home.
Her dreams were slowly being coated with what they had taken from her. Forcing her to face what was done to her repeatedly.
‘‘You have no idea,’’ boots scraped against the floor, coming closer, ‘‘What life is like out there, Aha’ri.’’ Her name sounded like poison through those lips. ‘‘It’s savage,’’ a pointed whisper that pierced her resolve.
Savage, they say, like that was the perfect excuse to give when they bend their fingers over weapons. Force them to learn the history of a planet and people that drench them in disinfectant daily. Some days their tactics worked. Aha’ri would question her own resolve, her own heart. The same tune would play on in her head, calming, and yet she questioned the will of Eywa.
Aha’ri had questions, demands, yet the only answers were those from skies that weren't her own. People who held her like a doll and tried to paint over her blue skin. Demons in her ears, yet her heart still longed for the forest in her dreams. For the All Mother that calls to her through songs and drums.
Oh, how these past choices mocked her.
‘‘Our clan would never have abandoned us.’’ Aha’ri knew in her soul that this was true. She remembers her sa’nok’s voice. She knows her love, “Poan lu tikxey.” He lies about this, he has to be.
Their clan was strong, known, they wouldn’t have left them as slaughter to demons. There was no way.
She had believed they were all saplings cut from their roots, that even though they couldn’t remember where they were from, they could still grow out there- on Pandora. Freedom was what they needed, what she wanted. She took their little hands in her own and dragged them along to where her dreams always called her, to where she could hear those drums.
The drums in Aha’ri’s head got louder the farther they went. She could feel the songs in her bones, calling her home, calling for them out there… just one more door.
Mercer walked up, his head tilted. ‘‘I’m very disappointed in you.’’ Guards stood around him as he held the act of worry, but his eyes told a different story, ‘‘We have given you this privileged life,’’ cold anger seethed through his words, ‘‘-and you want to throw it all away.’’
It would not end here; it couldn’t. ‘‘We don’t want your privileged life.’’ Aha’ri stepped forward, forcing Mercer to see her strength, her resolve that he couldn’t take. ‘‘We belong out there.’’ He will not see fear.
‘‘No, you belong to us.’’ He stepped forward. ‘‘You can’t even fathom how much we have invested in you.’’ He glared tightly towards Aha’ri. ‘‘Hm? We saved you, gave you a home, an identity-’’
‘‘We already have an identity.’’ Aha’ri’s body vibrated, wanting to hiss, to growl, but she held her head high. “We are Na’vi!”
‘‘No, you are what I made you.’’
She would not let him quiet her; they were too close to freedom. She slowly began to sing the melody her ancestors had been calling her home with. Mercer tried to silence their songs, stripped them from her lips for many moons. Kept her in a box and forced her to repent for a life she was meant to live. He’ll regret the time he had spent trying to make her forget.
Nor stepped forward, slowly grabbing Aha’ri’s hand like she was his lifeline. His own sweet freedom. ‘‘We may not remember the words,’’ He finally stood proudly next to her, ‘‘but we can still sing the songs of our people.’’ She watched as her Soaia stood with her, singing along.
They had spent their years clouded, looking up towards Aha’ri’s height. Where she demanded to be heard, they waited in the shadows, too scared to shine. Now they found the same light she was reaching for. They could hear the same calling that was underneath Aha’ri’s skin seeping to her heart.
She didn’t hide her smile as she looked down on Mercer. ‘‘We are going home.’’ She looked at her Soaia; hope erupted where despair once rested. “Awnga ka ne kelku.” She repeated even stronger.
Aha’ri could hear Mercer yell at her, but she ignored his words and stepped towards the exit. Home was calling her, beckoning her to come. She would answer its song. They were right there, but-
Sooner or later though, you always have to wake up…
This was the last time she saw them…
Aha’ri now fully remembers how her smuke was yelling her name. She couldn’t answer her. None of them would get a response from her. Her head was on fire; the colors of the world kept clashing like they didn’t know where to dance in her vision. She could feel the pain in her back, the pain in her kuru that was breaking her mind. The drums started to drown in her ears.
Then she started having that dream again, the same one for years, of flying. It helped her pass the time as her body and mind healed. She didn’t die where Mercer prayed she would. No, she unfortunately lived. A survivor of a cautionary tale they repeated to her family.
She was a secret they wanted to bury and an investment worth millions.
Dead, they told those who knew her name intimately.
Your new specimen, they spewed to those she was sent to.
Her memories continue to flood her, not caring whether they spill over the dam. She couldn’t place where she was anymore. She felt weak, restricted. Aha’ri could feel liquid around her, more dense than water. She was so tired, like she was melting where she floated.
‘‘You’re magnificent.’’ A younger Ossman spoke softly in awe as he scampered around.
Back then, Aha’ri felt like she should have known this voice. It was recognizable, but no name came to mind; nothing in her memories matched this demon. ‘These readings, your voxels in your kuru...’ He slowly found volume. ‘‘These activations prove you’re recovering. Mending.’’ She could still remember the tap echoing around her. ‘‘You’ll save so many with this research; you Na’vi really have the answers we need.’’
Aha’ri remembered how she couldn’t open her eyes, and her body wouldn’t move, how she was once trapped in her own mind.
‘‘Sleep.’’ Ossman spoke softer this time, ‘‘You need more time before you greet the world again.’’
Compliance. That is all she has ever been tasked with. Listen. Obey. She hungered to defy something she craved to do.
Sleep, she finally complied.
Aha’ri didn’t know how much time passed during those days. She was confined to darkness, unable even to twitch her ears. Aha’ri shouldn’t even know time; it was not the Na’vi way. Her ancestors used shadows and light to track their ‘time’. They watched their sister planet and knew how many days passed. Numbers were the language of demons, and she had gained the skill through bruises. She learned their tongue, their calculations. Aha’ri was terrifyingly good at it, and she loathed it. That is why she rebelled so hard.
While Alma tried to teach, Aha’ri was in her shadow, trying to sabotage. They did not need to know the demons’ way of life; they were Na’vi. She screamed, raged, refused to take tests. Yet she found her ears turned to certain lessons, their art, their stories, their songs.
Mercer limited those lessons, restricted creativity. It was only after those lessons that Aha’ri would listen to the rest. Math was always Teylan’s solace while it was Aha’ri’s sin. Every time she understood Alma’s lessons, she learned and was able to apply them. Aha’ri felt as if she were betraying her people. Their screams always found their way into her dreams after those days. The fragments of memory of the night she last saw her people.
It was her punishment for enjoying any of their lessons.
She missed her Soaia. With much dread of her own acceptance of this feeling, she also missed the classroom. She even missed Alma. Alma, who tried to balance teacher and mother with greed in her heart. Aha’ri knew this, and yet she would rather be in her walled prison once more than in darkness.
Rather be chained to Mercer than be forced to relive her memories over and over again.
‘‘Neuroplasticity is still active.’’ The same man from before rambled, ‘‘Pace is much more accelerated compared to human biology. Voxels here,’’ She could hear him type, how fascinated he was, ‘‘-and here are the most active. Must continue to chart. Kuru’s exterior has been healed for,’’ He paused, ‘‘11 months and 16 days-’’
He continued his diagnosis, not knowing the horror he had awakened.
Back then, the time felt unbearable. It was something she couldn’t accept, almost a year without her family.
Aha’ri knew it could have been days, but a year in darkness, trapped, knowing only this voice. Questions swelled her mind like water seeping through cracks in a dam. How long has she been healing? Why is she confined to her mind?
She wished she had thought of the more important questions back then.
“Good morning, Aha’ri. Right? That’s your name.” He walked towards her, speaking perfect Na’vi. “The file they gave me listed you as such.” With a hum, he turned. “You have been in a coma for a long time. Shot during an accident. The RDA and their lies, right?”
The man knew she couldn’t respond, yet he talked as if she were standing right next to him. She remembered how she had innocently assumed he thought she was worth a conversation, unlike the others.
“The impact damaged part of your kuru; it didn’t sever it, but… it took some time to heal.” He sat down on something. “The bullet, luckily enough, penetrated through your neck. Missed your spinal cord, it only managed to hit your external jugular vein. Honestly, with how long they took to treat you, I’m surprised you survived.”
Aha’ri did not like that her survival was some miracle when she was trapped in her own mind, still in the grasp of demons who only know how to take.
“My name’s Dr. Ossman.”
That was just the beginning for her with Anthony Ossman.
“And you, my friend, will save a very important life.”
Her life was a dependent, a source of salvation.
She was meant for a purpose.
She was the drug they’ll test and place their hope in for humanity's continuance on Pandora.
For Molly Ossman’s continuances in life.
Molly: The daughter of the man who governs her.
A girl stuck in her own mind, only able to reach the outside through a false body. Innocent of her father’s crime against Aha’ri. Kind to a world her people are slowly destroying. Her hands are clean, but the path she walks is of blood. Paved by those who shelter her. Even though it was forced onto Aha’ri, she was glad to be a transfusion for such a light. Even if it's what is slowly killing her.
‘‘Wonderful.’’ She felt drained when her memories finally came to a stop. ‘‘Let’s begin another test. Last one for the night.’’ He hummed.
“You’ve said this before.” It was a whisper of truth that Aha’ri knew wouldn’t save her.
“You remember that?” Dr Ossman wrote something down. ‘‘We’ll up the power and pay more attention to the readings. Don’t need you to remember all of this.’’
Aha’ri’s ears pinned back when she heard him walk over. He started to fidget with something close before he hovered over her. ‘‘Don’t need to traumatize dear Molly with the things we do here. It’s better if you forget.’’ He tightened the straps on her legs. “As promised, I’ll let you keep your memories of your family.”
‘‘Now, let’s carry on.’’
The transition from memory to reality was like a cruel joke. Years were taken from her in this place. A tainted muse for creation, yet her body felt stripped of any dignity. She missed her Soaia; Nor, Ri’nela, Yefti, Telisi, Yuayt, Teylan, and most importantly, her baby sister Tamtey. She has been without them for 6 years, and their screams have slowly joined those of their people, from the day they were taken.
She doesn’t always remember the experiments, but lately the wounds from them bleed more often. It was like the scab that slowly blurred them was being pulled off; she can see their eye colors again, what they wore. She can even place the pattern of all their syuratan.
Aha’ri had thought those memories were fading, like wisps of smoke in the night. Each time she was pulled out of the lab, the pain had earned her more visual of them.
Just a price she was willing to pay if it meant she could see her tsmuke’s smile again.
“Aha’ri.”
Turning towards the whisper, Aha’ri saw an avatar sneak over. ‘‘Molly, you’re not supposed to be here.’’
Compared to the rough edge before, Aha’ri’s tone was relaxed. ‘‘You’ll,’’ (I’ll), ‘‘-get in trouble again.’’
Molly smiled brightly before sitting next to Aha’ri and leaning into her. ‘‘I just had to see you!’’ She held up the pictures she had. ‘‘He let me go outside today! Look at all I saw.’’
Aha’ri’s skin felt like it was blistering from the emotions rumbling inside of her. ‘‘This is called a Bioluminescent flower!’’ Molly’s excitement slowly overshadowed the envy that burned. ‘‘It glows at night and has this sweet scent that attracts these tiny critters. And over here is a giant fern from the floating mountains nearby. It’s so soft!’’ She flipped through the images with childlike excitement, each photo revealing the vibrant colors and textures of home that haunts Aha’ri’s dreams.
Pandora, most of her memories were skewed from how young she was when she last saw it. Yet these images slowly brought out memories even her mind had forgotten. It wasn’t the sight but noise: glowing leaves that sang in the wind, the babbling of her sister Tamtey playing among the lush flora. Fourteen years had stolen those sights and sounds, and with them, pieces of her identity. The vivid landscapes of her home left her feeling hollow and mournful.
Molly held up another picture, one where she had clearly zoomed in from afar. ‘‘And this one is one of those shadeless trees; I think they said it was called the tree of voices-’’
“Utraya Mokri.” Aha’ri slowly brushed her fingers over the picture. “A sacred place where we can hear our ancestors.”
“Utraya Mokri.” Molly repeated carefully.
‘‘It’s good you kept your distance. It is a very important place.’’ Aha’ri slowly moved her hand away. ‘‘It would have angered the Omatikaya.’’
“It’s beautiful.”
The corner of Aha’ri’s mouth smiled at Molly’s use of Na’vi. But Aha’ri’s heart also swelled with bittersweet nostalgia. “I miss it,” she whispered, her voice shaky, thick with emotion. Tears began to well, blurring the colors as she wiped them away. This was not a place for tears.
Molly glanced at Aha’ri. “Hey, Aha’ri.” She spoke softly, moving to wrap her smaller arms around her. “I’m sorry.” It was an unfiltered truth in her mind, she was what kept Aha’ri from being out there. If only it was that simple. “If only-”
‘‘Don’t.’’ Aha’ri shushed her.
Leaning into Molly’s embrace, she maneuvered her arms to wrap around the other and bring her close.
Their relationship was tainted; both used each other to serve their own grievances.
For Molly, Aha’ri was her closest friend. The only person who didn’t pity her circumstance.
For Aha’ri, Molly was a replacement for the siblings she had lost. A filling for the void that lingers in her chest.
They both knew that if they hadn’t been in this situation, neither would have chosen the other. Yet, the world did not care for what-ifs, and they have each other now.
‘‘One day,’’ Molly whispered into Aha’ri’s chest. ‘‘You’ll be free.’’
‘‘Very hopeful of you,’’ Aha’ri replied, not daring to look down at the other.
‘‘Not hope.’’ Molly admitted, ‘‘It’s the truth. You’ll be free, be home.’’
“When the time comes, don’t look back.” She added.
Aha’ri held her breath. ‘‘Okay…’’
“Okay,” Aha'ri repeated in Na’vi with more confidence.
They let the room fall to silence. Taking a moment to recuperate before the wind asks more of them.
‘‘It’s time to go.’’ Aha’ri relented.
She needed to rest, her body was already shuddering from today's activities. Aha’ri understood that if she didn’t heed this warning now, the ache that had settled deep within her would only intensify, a relentless reminder of the countless experiments that had shaped her into what she was today.
After all these years, the weight of those procedures lingered in her muscles and joints, a constant companion that made even the simplest tasks feel like climbing a mountain. With a sigh, she settled down, hoping to find a moment of relief amidst the storm within her.
As the days pass, Aha'ri continues to drift in and out of a foggy haze, each session with Dr. Ossman blurring the lines of her reality. Repeatedly, memories once vivid will feel like distant echoes, slipping through her fingers like sand, leaving behind only the sharp sting of confusion and fear. The metal arms that restrain her are a constant reminder of her helplessness, each jab of the syringe a stark intrusion into her fading consciousness.
The ache in her jaw becomes a familiar companion, a physical manifestation of the torment she endures with each probing question and relentless experiment. Locked in this sterile prison, Aha'ri grapples with her identity, wrestling with the fragments of who she once was, as Dr. Ossman's relentless pursuit of knowledge strips away the pieces of her soul.
She fights against the chains of memory loss, desperate to reclaim the sense of self that the RDA demons have tried to erase, but each day feels like another step deeper into oblivion. More than once, she has caught glimpses of her true self in the mirrors of her mind, but the reflection that stares back is distorted, obscured by fear and the unbearable weight of their manipulations.
They take parts of her away and select what to give back.
‘‘Astounding.’’ Dr. Ossman said, awed, ‘‘Unlike the human tests, you retain your memories, though it takes a few days to manifest. And your soul drive is mostly useless. Can’t even see a clear picture of what's stored on it. Na’vi biology is truly amazing.’’
‘‘Will have to document now how the Soul Drive and NeuroSect are not compatible on Na’vi.’’
After every session, they steal Aha’ri’s memories of it. They only realized after a few chosen words that the alteration was temporary. To test it, they even went as far as to erase everything.
Aha’ri was still able to retain her people’s song and the faces of her beloved soaia.
‘‘It’s because you touch what doesn’t belong to you.’’ She watches as Ossman stops in his tracks. ‘‘You can keep trying-,’’ Aha’ri leans forward, switching to her mother tongue. “But the Great Mother protects.”
“Oel ngati kame, Doctor.”
Doctor Ossman stares back unmoving.
“Can’t you hear her?” Aha’ri asked, mocking the man. “She is watching.”
After she spoke against him, Ossman immediately confined her to her room.
The walls of her space felt like they were closing in after being kept in here for days. The sterile scent of the hospital clung to her senses. She lay on the small cot, staring at the dull ceiling while her mind drifted through the fog of her memories, the fragments swirling like leaves caught in a gale.
The isolation was penetrating, a reminder of her predicament. The air felt heavier, as if it were waiting for something to break. Hours turned into days, and with each moment that ticked away, Aha'ri was left trifling through the fragmented remnants of her past. She clung to those pieces, desperately hoping the memories would come back faster.
And yet, the absence of Doctor Ossman was suffocating. She could feel the weight of his absence like a shadow lurking in the corners of her thoughts, a reminder of the questions that hung unanswered in the air. Her body, however, wasn’t free from distress. With each passing hour, a burning sensation flared through her, a reminder of the experiments, of the pain they inflicted. It was like a fireside glow in a darkened room, flickering yet relentless.
Each flare brought with it unwelcome visions, images of the past and the cruel hands of time. She would see glimpses of her clan, brief flashes of laughter that felt distant and cold, laughter that echoed like ghosts in her longing heart. Sometimes, the faces morphed into those of the scientists who had pored over her, eyes glinting with a curiosity that felt more sinister than scientific. It was maddening, a pull in two directions; she craved the memories yet feared reliving it all.
Eywa blessed her by making sure the demons couldn’t keep her memories. Couldn’t hold them away from her on a string. That didn’t stop the pain that came with slowly remembering.
The machines surrounding her beeped softly, a constant reminder of her captivity. She concentrated on their rhythms, trying to mask the rising tide of dread inside her. There were days when darkness seeped through the cracks, and she could almost hear the whispers of the past, voices she yearned to recognize. It took hours or even days before she clearly latched onto who they are.
After parts of herself were placed, she was left hating herself for forgetting the most important people in her life. Just thoughts of them, her Soaia, increased the churning ache in her chest. The system that had trapped her, tasked with unraveling herself like a puzzle, kept pulling at her sanity.
Then came the memories of the experiments. She would see flashes of needles piercing through her skin, the cold, sterile metal of the instruments as they flicked in and out of her reality. The sensation of being robbed of her most intimate parts, her memories distorted and filed away as if they were nothing but data to be consumed and analyzed, haunted her.
More than once, she felt her resolve slipping, struggling against the weight of despair. The only thing keeping her sane was knowing the Great Mother had made sure humans couldn’t see those memories.
It was in that pain and those memories that she found herself humming out loud. Not to anyone, just words that became her tether to sanity. The same song that would calm her when her parents sang it. Reminding herself that she was still here, still fighting, though the fight felt more like a whisper against a violent storm.
“Aha’ri!”
Molly’s yell took her full attention as she turned to the sound. Through the window of the door, Aha’ri could see Molly’s red bandana.
The door swung open. ‘‘Hurry!’’
Aha’ri stood up and pressed her hand to the collar around her neck. ‘‘I can’t; they’ll know.’’
“Allow me.”
Molly stepped out of the way as another stepped into view. Aha’ri at first thought them an avatar, only to realize the Na’vi attire they wore and the four fingers on each hand.
“You?-”
The male Na’vi walked up and destroyed the collar around Aha’ri’s throat. The action stopped her in her tracks. When the collar was finally removed, Aha'ri felt an overwhelming surge of relief, as if a heavy weight had been lifted from her soul.
“I am Nok,” The Na’vi greeted. “Oel ngati kame, Aha’ri, Friend of Molly.”
“Oel ngati kame.” Aha’ri greeted back out of habit.
‘‘We have to move!’’ Molly interrupted, looking down the hallway, ‘‘They know the elders have been rescued, it's only a matter of time before they come to check on Aha’ri.’’
Molly led Nok and Aha'ri through the dim corridors, and Aha'ri stayed alert. She listened for the sound of guards patrolling, her eyes scanning each corner before they moved. When they reached a doorway, Nok pointed ahead, indicating the guards were close. Aha'ri drew in a breath as Nok nodded to Molly and her to continue.
Molly moved forward first, crouching low as they crept along the wall. Timing their steps, she led them carefully past the guards, remaining as quiet as possible. Their footsteps barely made a sound against the floor. Aha'ri focused on the path ahead, paying attention to Molly and Nok guiding her through the shadows without drawing attention. Each move was deliberate and calculated, as they focused on keeping them all safe while navigating the tight spaces.
As they approached the final steps, Molly stopped, ‘‘Go.’’
Nok nodded, continuing on, but Aha’ri stopped in her tracks, ‘‘Molly, what are you-’’
“Go, Aha’ri.”
‘‘One day,’’ Molly whispered into Aha’ri’s chest. ‘‘You’ll be free.’’
‘‘Very hopeful of you,’’ Aha’ri replied, not daring to look down at the other.
‘‘Not hope.’’ Molly admitted, ‘‘It’s the truth. You’ll be free, be home.’’
“When the time comes, don’t look back.” She added.
“I see you.” Aha’ri almost whimpered as she turned away to follow Nok.
“Goodbye, Aha’ri.”
Aha’ri didn’t understand why it hurt so much to turn away and not look back at Molly as she took her first steps toward freedom. As tears began to fall silently, Aha’ri fully realized just how much she had come to adore Molly. Yet, she had to say goodbye, carrying the heavy knowledge that this might be the last time they ever saw each other.
Without looking back, she ran out of the building. The night air immediately enveloped Aha'ri as she stepped onto Pandora's surface, the bioluminescent flora illuminating her path. It had been years since she had last seen this breathtaking world, and the memories rushed back, a bittersweet blend of wonder and longing. She caught sight of the towering trees glowing softly, making her heart race.
She was finally home.
“Thank you.” She staggered on her feet. Wanting to collapse at the sight but knew it wasn’t the time.
Nok called out in a whistle, “Don’t thank me yet, ma’eylan.” He laughed, hurrying along, “Let's make ground away from here before you sing such praises!”
Freedom.
Aha’ri cried in happiness as she ran after him.
Freedom, at last.
<3