It was a calm day in Awa’atlu. Or at least, as calm as it could be since the arrival of the Sully family. Everything seemed to be calming down. The Sully’s were adapting to the Metkayina way of life fairly well, and all the fighting between the children was slowly coming to a stop. Very. Slowly.

The sun was setting upon the horizon, bathing the reef in a bioluminescent glow. Metkayina families were eating their last meals of the day and preparing for sleep.

Everything seemed normal.

Until the glow of something flying towards the reef in large numbers. Not something—someone. Many someones.

The Olo’eyktan and Tsahìk were alerted immediately. As soon as the large group had crossed into the reef outskirts, a scout sounded the horn to alert the clan of the arrival of the Alyara.

The elusive Alyara. The last living clan of Night Na’vi. They traveled by night, and slept by day. They were storytellers, artisans, healers, and highly spiritual. The men and women would migrate with their Night Ikrans all over Pandora. The men would travel North, and the women South. Then they would meet at the homeland in a ritual they called The Pulse. Ever since the Sky People came to Pandora and the Omatikaya had allowed then to come too close, the Alyara swore to never return until the Sky People were eradicated. But they still visited the other clans, such as the Metkayina.

Tsireya had gone around on an ilu alerting the clan that their “Night Sisters had returned.”

Once everyone was out and coming to see the Night Na’vi, Tsireya got off her ilu and went to the edge of the shore where the clan was gathering to welcome the women of the Alyara. She stood next to Tonowari and Ronal, who were both waiting to welcome the clan of Night.