The hunters didn't lower their weapons.
Their eyes darted between one another, whispers in their native tongue slipping through sharp breaths. To them, I was not Na'vi, not human, but something… else. Too tall, too broad, too strange.
One of them, a younger warrior with trembling hands, spat the word like venom:"Skxawng demon."
The leader silenced him with a glare. His bow remained drawn, but his gaze was fixed on me—on how I had caught his arrow like a child snatches a falling leaf.
"Bind him," he said at last.
Several hunters approached warily, ropes of woven fiber in their hands. I could have broken them without effort. With a breath, I could have shattered the forest around me. But instead, I bowed my head and extended my hands.
If I wanted their trust, I had to show restraint.
Their ropes tightened around my wrists. They tugged, testing my strength. The fibers strained, creaking under the weight of my muscles. I held still.
The leader's gaze narrowed. "You kneel easily, demon."
I met his eyes. "Because I am no demon."
They marched me through the forest. Glowing vines brushed against my shoulders as we passed, small creatures scattering at our approach. My senses drank it all in—the rhythm of footsteps, the breaths of my captors, even the faint hum of Eywa that pulsed beneath the earth.
We emerged into a great clearing, and I stopped in awe.
Hometree.
Its roots towered higher than skyscrapers, each one thicker than a city street. Fires burned in the hollows, Na'vi gathered in clusters, their golden eyes watching as we entered. Murmurs rippled through the crowd, their whispers sharp.
"Too tall.""Not Na'vi.""Not human.""Demon…"
Children darted behind their mothers, warriors tightened their grips on spears.
I kept my head high, even as suspicion and fear surrounded me.
At the center of the gathering stood a figure—stern, regal, and commanding. A woman adorned in beads and feathers, her gaze sharp as obsidian. Mo'at, the Tsahik, spiritual leader of the Omaticaya.
Her voice cut through the murmurs like a blade."Bring him forward."
The hunters shoved me into the open space. I stumbled only slightly, choosing not to resist. Dozens of eyes bore into me.
Mo'at studied me, head tilting slightly. "You are not one of us… and yet, you are not like the Sky People either."
Her words drew gasps.
Eytukan, the clan leader, stepped beside her, his hand resting on his spear. "Then what is he?"
I straightened, meeting his gaze without fear. My voice carried across the hollow.
"I am not here to harm you. I was… brought here. By Eywa."
Shock rippled through the clan at the name. The murmurs grew louder.
Mo'at's eyes narrowed, flickering with something unreadable. "You speak boldly, stranger. Too boldly. If Eywa truly guides you, then prove it."
The crowd hushed. All eyes turned to me.
Inside, I hesitated. Prove it? How? Should I unleash my power? Show them what I am?
But then I felt it again—that hum, that whisper in the back of my mind. Eywa's presence. Calm. Guiding.
I closed my eyes and knelt. Slowly, I pressed my bound hands into the roots of Hometree. The glow beneath the bark pulsed brighter at my touch, light rippling outward like waves in water.
Gasps filled the air. The tree itself seemed to respond to me.
When I opened my eyes, I looked directly at Mo'at."I do not ask for trust. Only for the chance… to walk among you."
For a long moment, silence ruled.
Then Mo'at raised her hand, silencing the crowd. "Eywa does not reject him. For now… he stays."
The murmurs flared again—fear, suspicion, disbelief.
Eytukan frowned, clearly unconvinced. "He is dangerous. Look at him. If he turns—"
Mo'at's voice was firm, unyielding. "If Eywa wills him here, then he is here for a reason."
Her gaze locked with mine, sharp and probing. "But remember this, stranger. Walk carefully. For if you betray us… not even your strength will save you."
The crowd dispersed slowly, whispers trailing into the night.
The hunters cut the ropes from my wrists, though their eyes never left me. I rubbed my arms, rising to my full height once more.
And though suspicion still lingered, a single truth echoed in my mind:
Eywa had given me a place among them.
This was the beginning.