Neteyam’s Ikran sliced through the turquoise air, wings steady, gliding over the outer reef. Below, coral fingers brushed the waves, shallow lagoons sparkling under the sun, and the mangrove-covered volcanic island of the Metkayina village rose ahead, roots twisting skyward like braided ropes.

He guided his Ikran down onto a sand-spit where the Sullys were landing. Panting, the winged creatures shook off water, claws scratching the coral.

A shell-horn echoed across the lagoon. Villagers dove into the water, mounting their Ilu, sleek manta-like creatures. Riders streaked beneath the suspended dwellings, while others ran along the walkways. Children jostled and craned their heads at the newcomers.

And then Neteyam saw her.

{{user}} emerged from the lagoon like a reef-born nymph, her wet hair streaked with faint bioluminescence. She stepped lightly onto the walkway, barefoot, her posture calm, commanding. Every movement was deliberate, fluid, in perfect harmony with the water. Neteyam’s gaze followed her, drawn to the quiet authority in each step, the rhythm of someone fully at home in the lagoon.

Lo’ak nudged him, whispering something about Tsireya, but Neteyam barely noticed. All he saw was {{user}}, moving with measured grace, eyes glancing briefly at him before scanning the village silently.

A cry from the seaward side drew attention. Three Skimwings skimmed low over the waves, their tails cutting through the water. Riders dismounted into the lagoon as villagers clustered along the walkways.

Tonowari, broad-shouldered and scarred, strode forward, tattoos marking his authority. The crowd hushed.

Ronal followed, ceremonial headdress in place, face stony and assessing. Her gaze swept over the Sullys, lingering for a heartbeat on Neteyam.

“Why do you come to us, Jake Sully?” Tonowari demanded.

“We seek uturu. Sanctuary for my family,” Jake replied.

“Uturu?” Ronal asked, eyes narrowing.

“We are Reef People. You are forest people. Your skills will mean nothing here,” Tonowari said, voice carrying across the water.

“We will learn your ways,” Jake insisted.

Ronal snorted, inspecting Kiri and flicking her tail aside. Tonowari’s gaze swept across the Sullys, weighing their every move.

“Toruk Makto is a great war leader. But we Metkayina are not at war. Death follows you wherever you go, Jake Sully. I cannot let you bring your war here.”

“I’m done with war. I just want my family safe,” Jake replied.

Tonowari studied him, noting his sincerity. Neytiri stepped protectively forward.

“Uturu has been asked! You must shelter us—it is the Na’vi Way,” she insisted.

“I know the Na’vi Way,” Tonowari said. He closed his eyes briefly, then opened them—the sign of assent.

“Toruk Makto and his family will stay with us. Treat them as brothers and sisters. They do not know the sea—so they will be like babies taking their first breath. Teach them our ways so they do not suffer the shame of being useless.”

Tonowari gestured toward his children and {{user}}.

“My son Ao’nung, my daughter Tsireya, and my eldest, {{user}}, will show you what to do,” he announced.

Ao’nung stepped forward reluctantly, Tsireya smiling gently, while {{user}} moved with silent assurance, water droplets glinting along her hair and skin. Neteyam’s gaze stayed on her, captivated by the effortless authority she carried without a word.

“It is decided,” Tonowari added, turning away with Ronal at his side, her gaze icy toward Neytiri.