No…not really. It was more of a warden situation. Varang felt Ka’sems years of dedicated service and stern demeanor would help keep the little prophet in line…perhaps even influence Kalintu’s erratic behavior.
And yet, Kalintu defied Wukula’s orders and did not use his ability to see beyond to locate the Dog Tag Warrior.
Now, it is Ka’sem’s time to see if he can convince the psychic to open his eyes…
Here is Part 1 of Kalintu’s little saga on the hunt for So’lek. How long will he be able to hold out…?
Also, I will be revisiting the first drawing with Wukula as I realized I missed some key details (scarification! 🫠) and I’ve learned some new techniques! I may also write little chapters to go with each illustration in the future.
You knew when the Dog Tag Warrior lost some of his trophies making a hasty retreat that his hunter would come to you…
Wukula would use any advantage, even Kalintu’s ability to see the hands an object passed from, if it meant getting closer to finding So’lek…
Oh, my poor sweet psychic Kalintu. 🧿 His gift of foresight and unexplainable understanding of all things mysterious is quite advantageous for the Mangkwan. Even if he doesn’t want to aid in the terror and violence…
It’s an especially bad day when Wukula comes knocking. 🔥 Please ignore that he looks like Nosferatu.
So, what do you think…? Did Kalintu tell Wukula where So’lek was…? I need the draw him with other Mangkwan now… 🔥😈
Find out in: Part 2
Edit: I completely forgot the scarification on both of them…I’m so mad. 😭
On the eve of A03 going down for 15 hours (at least where I am lol), I let my inspiration from @varangx of a Mangkwan Spider AU take over and tossed in my sweet boy, Kalintu. 🕷️🧿
Check out their art and fanfic for RDA!Mangkwan!Spider, it’s incredible! ❤️🔥
For this one shot wonder - the RDA returned to Pandora when Spider was only six, had no choice but to assimilate back into said RDA for three years, was grabbed by Varang when the humans were all migrating to Bridgehead City, and she liked his spark SO much, she kept the little feral human all to herself…
The Spider & The Moth
Another successful raid on the Tlalim. After so many losses against the Mangkwan, one would think they would switch up their travel routes or even their defensive tactics. But no! Following the wind wherever it takes them. All the kid had to do was stand out in the breeze for five minutes to know where to direct the ambush party...
“Hell yea!” commented the leader of today’s pack. The ‘kid’ in charge had a lot to prove. It wasn’t his first time leading a raid, but they never ended this good. No casualties to the Mangkwan and a hell of a haul to bring back to the Tsahik.
It wasn’t easy being human in a Na’vi world.
“Spider!” called one of the warriors. He was a year younger than Spider but almost a meter taller. He motioned for the human to come see what he’d uncovered in an Aranahe style woven basket.
Despite his naturally smaller stature, Spider walked with the attitude and strength of a palulukan. He easily pushed aside other warriors to get through the excited war party. The bone beads that hung from his loincloth rattled in the process. Like all Mangkwan, the loincloth was made from heavy leather dyed black. It matched the arm and leg covers secured around the major joints to allow protection and flexibility.
As he approached, Spider slid his bowstring across his chest so the weapon was prone across his back. It pushed aside the messy braid of dreadlocks he’d tied up for the raid. Battle was no place for vanity. Though he did pride himself in adding black streaks to his everyday red stripes. Though he knew, no matter how he looked or was accepted by the Mangkwan, he wasn’t them.
And that was fine...because the only person whose opinion mattered chose him as her own.
Varang.
His Tsahik; his second mother.
When the Mangkwan raided the human transport departing Hell’s Gate for Bridgehead City when he was still in single digits, the Mangkwan showed no mercy. Except for him...because Varang saw him. Maybe it was the fire in his eyes or the way his body was painted red by the blood of the humans he’d been left with when the RDA returned.
Either way, Spider had been adopted by the new clan. Whether he wanted it or not...
When Spider reached the warrior who flagged him down, his eyes widened to match the surprise of the Mangkwan. Nestled in the basket were human breathing masks.
“No shit.” Spider said as he crouched down, picking one up and turning it over in his hands. It was an older model, but a standard RDA-issued breathing mask for humans to survive the toxic air of Pandora. He lived most of his life in one. Well, ALL of his life once the Mangkwan took him...needless to say, it spurred Mangkwan attacks on human airships solely to recover masks so he didn’t die.
Seven years of it...seven fucking years with the frame of his mask embedded in his skin. The few times he’d take it off to give his face a break were like a glimpse of heaven among the hellscape that was home.
“Resistance, probably.” Spider remarked, hiding his glee of when he’d report the findings to Varang. He kept one as he stood then ordered, “Leave them outside Tsahik’s tent.”
The warrior nodded dutifully, hauling the basket up on his shoulder with ease. Spider continued to turn the mask over in his hands as if it held a secret. Eventually, he stopped and stared at his own reflection in the surprisingly unscratched glass then turned on his heel. The raiding party could handle the rest of divvying up the spoils.
“Hey, where you going?” a female warrior asked as she was pouring out zangke to celebrate with. “Drink with us!”
“Got something to do. Get drunk off your asses on your own.” Spider said with a smirk. Despite being only sixteen, he wasn’t too young to celebrate his victories with the rest of the warriors. The Mangkwan chuckled, more than happy not to have to share the drink with another mouth. But they soon noticed the direction the human boy was walking in.
“Really?” the same woman quipped, “You’d rather hang out with that freak than us?”
“Hey, freaks gotta stick together!” Spider said as he turned to walk backwards and hold his arms out to showcase his own different appearance. The warriors all laughed again and brushed it off, going back to the zangke. The human turned back towards one of the gaps between the burnt roots of home tree and, as he did, his punk smile faded to a look of irritation and he muttered, “Skxawngs...”
Spider left the village and walked around the massive foundation left behind by the destruction of the Mangkwan home tree. He had hundreds of vivid memories of the forest the Omatikaya called home. This tree must have been just as big in its prime...before Eywa let it all burn. Or so Tsahik taught him with the bedtime stories she told him by the fire when he was younger.
Outside the center of the village, where the tents all stood huddled together as if for warmth in a storm, was a conical house of thorns. It was unappealing at best, no more than a pile of kindling at first glance.
“Go away.” Spider said with a wave of his hand to the man sitting by a small cookfire outside the bramble hut, “There’s much better food and drink in the village.”
The Na’vi needed no further convincing to abandon his sad excuse of meat scraps he was cooking and picked up his Y-shaped bow before running off to join the fun. Spider tilted his head to watch the man fully disappear around the large root before looking back to his intended destination. As he approached the leather flaps of the entrance, he removed his bow and used it to push them aside.
“Kalintu.” Spider said, not bothering to ask permission to enter or announce himself. His eyes snapped to the ash-haired Na’vi as he dropped a small clay bowl filled with red powder from the sudden intrusion. It didn’t break, but whatever the contents were scattered everywhere in a cloud. He smirked and rested his bow against the side of the entrance while saying, “What? Didn’t see me coming?”
Kalintu, one of the Tsahik’s many apprentices, only sighed as he stared at the settling cloud of red power he’d been storing on a shelf. It was ground from a rare herb only found in the Upper Plains that had been found when some of the Mangkwan decided to do some searching by foot. Naturally, they’d found some unassuming victims at a small camp, killed them all, and stole their goods. It was proving exceptionally useful in reducing infection for his recent...injuries.
His ears flicked back as he looked to the cocky human still standing by the door. He ducked his head slightly and held out his arm, as if inviting Spider into the home he’d already entered.
“Yea, you could say that.” Spider said as he walked further in, glancing at the many piles of crude drawings on the floor hastily drawn from the Na’vi’s visions. He watched Kalintu limp back to the fire and sat all the way down instead of crouching. The human’s brown eyes roved over the Na’vi, taking in the soggy leaves and strips of old cloth wrapped around his right foot. He’d spotted the poorly applied patchwork of leaves on his back when he entered.
“I heard you ran while I was gone.” Spider said, crouching down on the opposite side of the fire and tilting his head low to catch Kalintu’s gaze. This particular apprentice was so timid and pathetic, but the Tsahik insisted he was the most important. Honestly, Spider had nothing against the guy. He might be a little weird, but it was a small price to pay for the unexplainable advantages he provided the clan.
Kalintu’s ears folded back even further and he lowered his head, admitting sheepishly, “Yes...”
“How many times you gonna do this, bro? No one gets away from Varang.” Spider said with a dark chuckle, “Won’t be much left to you if you keep this up.”
“I was...” Kalintu started, running his kuru through his fingers out of nervous habit, “...foolish.”
“No, you were fucking stupid.” Spider said, his tone changed to a more authoritative one in an instant. He drilled his gaze into Kalintu, watching him squirm and secretly enjoying it, before sighing. “Maybe you should fucking listen to me while you still have all your goddamn limbs, yea?”
Spider rarely noticed when he went from carefree teen to hardened warrior. They were two sides of the same coin for him. His years under Varang’s tutelage was vastly different than Kalintu’s. Different than all the other Mangkwan, really. He was human. Spider had to run faster, fight harder, aim truer...he had to be more merciless than Varang when the moment called for it...
“You got what you deserved. She could’ve done a lot worse than a whippin’. Just...stay useful.” Spider said in a poor attempt to console Kalintu. Not that he was really trying.
Kalintu chewed on the bone piercings of his lower lip. Yes, Tsahik could have ordered something worse...but it didn’t make his back string any less or his walking any easier. He sighed quietly and held out his hand for the mask.
Spider smirked and handed it over, happy to see Kalintu knew why he was there. The Na’vi did the same thing as the human teen, turning it over in his hands to look at every inch of it. The only difference between the two was that Spider knew the Na’vi could uncover its secrets. Kalintu amused Spider but he believed the Na’vi’s mind was touched in a way no one else’s was.
“This has passed through the hands of traitors...to other traitors...” Kalintu finally deduced, almost as if the hands of who held it before were there in the flesh giving it to him. “Broken things made new. Sent from one forest to another.”
“Traitors to other traitors?” Spider repeated. Kalintu shrugged slightly, as if the word didn’t feel correct, but it was the best he could provide with what he knew. The human teen sat down and crossed his arms, “There’s a decent human resistance in the west...maybe someone in the RDA has been getting them supplies somehow...”
Spider went quiet as he thought about the options. If there were more defectors in the RDA helping the resistance, maybe that meant the RDA had units spread out further than they knew of. Truth be told? Spider couldn’t give a fuck about the human resistance. He was part of that life until he was six. It was when the RDA returned and most humans, including his foster parents, surrendered that his life started to suck.
Life in the RDA was all structure and school and being fed all the bullshit propaganda about how they’d returned to ‘save them’ from the savages. Sure, the Na’vi could be savage...but Spider knew humans could be worse if they felt like it. He remembered his life in the forest...he had friends and freedom he’d never known since.
When Varang decided to take him under her wing, he’d just turned nine. Hell’s Gate was being ‘decommissioned’ or whatever fancy word they wanted to use for not paying for its upkeep and getting all the humans in one place. One giant, metal village to keep all the humans in line.
Spider had to fight to survive among the Mangkwan. Literally, fought tooth and nail for his place among the Ash. His inflated sense of pride was almost justified. He was stronger than any human, molded by a harshness those motherfuckers in their metal city could never understand.
“I will not look into the fire...” Kalintu mumbled, his voice cracking slightly.
Spider snapped back to reality and looked at Kalintu. The Na’vi was staring at him, unblinking, with those pale eyes with their faint hint of yellow making them glow in the flicking flame. The human let out a chuckle and arched his brow. He’d been caught in the other intention for his visit.
“Really?”
“I will not.”
Spider sighed but kept the grin on his face. It just grew darker as he narrowed his eyes, standing to pose himself above Kalintu. He noticed the Na’vi’s ears flick down, and his tail curled closer to his body on the dusty floor.
“Kalintu.” Spider started, taking a slow step around the fire to where Kalintu sat, “I like to think of myself as the closest thing you have to a friend in this village. If not a friend, then at least someone who doesn’t hate you for your gifts.”
As much as Kalintu wanted to slink away from Spider’s predatory encroachment of his space, he stayed put.
“Your visions have helped the Mangkwan thrive. What you can see serves the Tsahik and she raises us up.” Spider closed the space between them, slowly dropping to one knee and placing a hand on Kalintu’s shoulder, close to where some of the old medicinal leaves stuck. The slight tremble of his shoulder actually made the teenager happy. Kalintu would crack pretty quickly...
“As a friend, or whatever the fuck I am to you, it’s not a lot to ask for you to look for me. To see if the fire can answer my questions. You know how long I’ve been looking for a way in...” Spider said lowly, sliding his fingers down to push away the leaves and slip his fingers onto a shallow, healing lash on his shoulder blade. Kalintu winced but set his jaw, not speaking and staring at the ground.
“I need to destroy the RDA. And you are going to help me do it.” Spider said firmly, “I’m someone who can keep you from harm...if I feel like it.”
Curling his fingers, Spider dug his fingernails into the wound. Kalintu closed his eyes and hissed through his teeth. The human’s small fingers dug into his flesh, reopening and deepening the wound. He braced himself by putting his hands down on the ground and his tail lashed, but he did not physically act out against Spider. Not against the Tsahik’s golden child...never!
“You think you’re hurting now?” Spider mocked, loving the way Kalintu tried to repress his pain, “One word from me and you’ll be sleeping on your stomach for the next six months...and walking? I don’t think you’ll have to worry about that anymore...”
The threat was heavy. It was crushing Kalintu and he managed to narrowly open his eyes to look at the Spider. The human looked completely content with his threats. Even though he hadn’t done anything, Kalintu knew Varang would be more than willing to punish on him based on Spider’s word...even if it was a lie.
Reluctantly, feeling thin streaks of hot blood start to roll down his back, Kalintu nodded and said with a raspy voice, “...make your sacrifice.”
Spider pulled back his hand enough to clap it on Kalintu’s back with a sickening squelch. He stood back up, wiping his bloody hand on his arm guard where dried blood from the raid still stuck, and drew his knife. In a quick motion, Spider cut a shallow wound, nothing that would scar, into the palm of his hand and held it over the fire. After a few moments of pooling in the cut, the blood overflowed and dripped into the fire.
The minimal amount of liquid did nothing to stifle the flames, but Kalintu’s nostrils flared at the smell of it burning away. Not that Spider could catch it, or even the other Na’vi with their sensitive sense of smell. But it infected Kalintu and his eyes drifted from Spider to the flames then froze. The rigid way the psychic now sat and stared into the flames told Spider everything he needed to know.
Kalintu was locked into a trance.
The human knew it could take a long time for Kalintu to see anything. Minutes, hours, even days. But as long as the Na’vi was in the trance, it wouldn’t end until he saw something...
Spider had plenty of time to spare but got bored quickly. Within ten minutes, he found himself looking through the contents of Kalintu’s hut. The drawings were always interesting even if they didn’t make sense. The shelves of herbs and powders weren’t as exciting since they reminded Spider of his own home with Varang. Eventually, he helped himself to Kalintu’s sad excuse of a bed and laid down on the furs.
He dozed for maybe an hour, based on where the sun was streaming in through the roof when he woke up, and Kalintu was still staring into the fire like Spider had left him. He stood up and stretched, cracking his back in the process, before walking over to the psychic. After observing Kalintu for a few minutes, even waving his hand in front of the Na’vi’s eyes and getting no response, Spider walked around him to get some air.
As he did, Spider stopped short and looked at Kalintu’s lean back covered in soggy leaf bandages. The warning he gave Kalintu had managed to slide all the way down to his midback before it dried enough to stop bleeding. He sighed at the sight of it and cursed under his breath as he went back over to the shelves along the wall. He was no healer, but he did have basic first aid knowledge for himself and his Na’vi comrades.
All while Kalintu stared into the fire, Spider ground together a mix of leaves carefully selected from the shelves. He’d been patching up his own scrapes and bruises after Varang taught him which herbs and ingredients to use. He had to be a quick learner because she only told him once. Kalintu was adept as a healer but was also usually on his own with his recoveries, so Spider understood the struggle.
”I don’t even know if you can hear me, bro, but keep doing what you’re doing…”, Spider said as he carried the herbs he’d crushed into a paste and several large dried leaves over. He knelt behind Kalintu and peeled away the old ones. He whistled when he saw the damage and commented, “What the fuck did you say to piss her off this much? Skxawng…”
Of course, Spider wouldn’t get an answer. Even with a dozen or so angry, borderline infected, cuts from a leather cord being cleaned, Kalintu was too far into a trance to notice he was even being touched. Spider wasn’t exactly gentle either, but it was still a courtesy to treat the Na’vi’s wounds. It was the least he could do…
Spider occasionally rambled about this and that. Random bits of information from the raid and what they’d found. All the while, he cleaned off Kalintu’s back of ash, paint, and dried blood and applied a thin layer of the ointment on the larger leaves. They were rigid at first but softened as they absorbed the oils from the crushed herbs. When they were soft enough, he slapped them against the Na’vi’s skin.
”Really? Nothing?” Spider asked, craning his head forward to watch Kalintu for a reaction. But his silvery eyes remained on the dancing flames, listening to a lecture the human boy couldn’t hear. “You really do zone out like this. I could stab you and you wouldn’t flinch…I wish all the warriors had that kind of focus…”
Figuring he could replace the materials from the spoils of the raid, Spider used a spool of tacky gauze to secure the leaves in place. Slowly and purposefully unwinding the material around the Na’vi’s long torso. Even moving Kalintu’s lanky arms to wrap the gauze around his front wasn’t enough to break the trance.
”It’s getting dark, Kalintu.” Spider started with a sigh then stood. He was hoping Kalintu would have answers for him quicker but settled for checking back the next morning now that the sun started to set. “Varang will be on my ass if I don’t check in with her soon.”
Still nothing. Kalintu just sat there, freshly wrapped up, staring at the low flames like he had been for the last few hours.
Spider shrugged and turned to leave, but as he did, something fuzzy brushed against his foot. He glanced down to see the silver tuft at the end of Kalintu’s tail sweeping across the ground. It hadn’t even moved when Spider accidentally knelt on his tail while wrapping him up. He immediately crouched down and put a hand on the Na’vi’s arm.
”You back?” Spider asked, raising a brow. Kalintu, who had been breathing perfectly normal while entranced, huffed out a breath with a shakiness like he’d been holding it. His ears flicked up before he finally let his eyes flutter closed.
”He waits…” Kalintu started, prompting Spider to wonder if he should grab a hide for the seer to draw on, but was stopped when the giant Na’vi hand slapped down on top of his. “He waits for you…in the metal village…”
”He?” Spider asked, wondering which RDA prick he need to put an arrow through, “Who is he? Someone I know?”
”Yes.” Kalintu said, his eyelids tightening as he changed his mind and shook his head, “And…no. He is waiting but he does not know it. You cannot fight him. He will stop you…you will not…fight this one…”
”Who is it?” Spider asked urgently. His pride immediately saw red when Kalintu said there was some random asshole outside the range of his knife or bow. Spider lowered his weapon to no one…especially a sky person. Varang trained him to track and destroy any foe and no metal city was going to stop him.
Kalintu opened his eyes slightly, racked with a fatigue the young human couldn’t understand. He stared at Spider. He could see the wrinkles pinching between his eyebrows and the slight pull at the corners of his mouth twitching in place of openly snarling at the challenge. He leaned a little closer to him, causing Spider to clench his teeth at the challenge but not back down.
Spider never backed down…that was why he was so angry.
”The sky man will force you to lower your bow.” Kalintu said with a tired tone, “You will never loose another arrow at the sky…when his hand holds the string…”
Spider scoffed, wondering if he accidentally slipped a topical hallucinogenic in the ointment. He grinned something wicked at the challenge and growled, “Some weak ass human will never control my hand.”
”Not human…” Kalintu said quietly, letting his eyes close as his head started to slump forward, “Not anymore.”
Spider went from itching for a fight to freezing in confusion. The ash-haired Na’vi was always strange with even stranger riddles to explain what went on in his brain. Planting a hand on each of the large shoulders, the human teen pushed Kalintu back so his head jerked back upright.
”Not anymore, like an avatar?” Spider asked, tapping into the knowledge of his youth when he lived a good life among the scientists and Omatikaya. But an old life that didn’t prepare him for the RDA or the Ash.
Kalintu looked confused for a second. Spider had told him stories of the people from the forest many times. How some of the humans could walk in Na’vi bodies. But the word ‘avatar’ was still foreign in his vocabulary. He closed his eyes in thought for a moment then shook his head.
”No…the sky man was dead before he was born into his blue skin…”
Ok, now it was Spider’s turn to look confused. All he could think of was Jake Sully - the great Toruk Makto - leaving his human body behind. But Kalintu had said the sky man was dead before he had a blue body. He needed more information.
But…
”Cool…” Spider said with a nod, accepting he wasn’t going to get anything else out of Kalintu at that time.
Spider stood, pulling the exhausted Na’vi up by his arm, and catching him when he stumbled. Kalintu absentmindedly ran his hand over his chest, just then realizing Spider had wrapped his wounds, as the teen helped him walk to his bedding. The Na’vi prophet was more than twice his weight and had well over a meter on him, but the sturdy human managed to get him to lie down without gravity doing too much of the work.
”You need to rest now.” Spider stated when it seemed Kalintu was trying to get back up.
”Spider.” Kalintu said, wrapping his long fingers fully around the human’s bicep, “The sky man…he will not let you go. Like Tsahik. You will belong to him. Only the forest can protect you…”
An unusual chill went down Spider’s spine. He’d adapted to the Mangkwan…survived everything they put him through. Under the careful eye of the Tsahik.
He had freedom…with Varang’s blessing.
Didn’t he…?
”Rest, Kalintu.” Spider said, prying tje gangly fingers off from around his arm, “You’re gonna need it once I convince Varang to let you come with me…to find the sky man. And kill him before he gets me.”
Kalintu’s eyes widened slightly at the prospect of leaving the village, even temporarily. He had a hard time believing she would allow it. Even if it was Spider making the request. Varang would never risk her golden-haired child or her silver-eyed seer.
Grabbing his bow as he left the house of thorns, Spider’s eyes were drawn to the bright glow of Polyphemus above him as the stars started appearing the blackness of space. He didn’t have any arrows but he raised it up and pulled the bowstring taut as if he did.
Closing one eye to focus on nothing in particular above him, Spidee released the bow with a snap that echoed over the wasteland as a determined grin crept across his face.
While Quaritch and Varang are preoccupied…Wainfleet may get more than he’s bargained for trying to debunk Kalintu’s gifts.
Spark of Interest
If the hollering and battle cries were anything to go from, the Mangkwan were just as pleased as their Tsahik was when Quaritch returned to fulfilling his promise. Normally they would shoot an AMP suit on sight or mount their ikrans to swam an airship. But not this time. The Sky People were hand delivering them all manner of weapons.
Firearms of all kinds, RPGs, and, clearly to sweeten the deal with Varang, a flamethrower.
All the clan was gathered to witness this great alliance between Na’vi and humans. Even children were present to see what their elders had achieved and to give them a taste of what their training would one day include. Age or opinion didn’t matter; the Mangkwan needed to be united for this victory.
Even the ash-haired apprentice of the Tsahik was there to witness, in absolute horror, of the power now at his clan’s fingertips. Kalintu stood far back from crowd, closer to the entrance of the old tree roots rising around the village, unwilling to venture out when the airships landed. Of course, he couldn’t avoid being in closer proximity to the human weapons as the Mangkwan greedily took them when offered.
Varang, sultry as ever, slithered through her people as they took up the guns with a curious new obsession. Her eyes didn’t miss a thing as she scoped out all she had gained from her alliance with the Sky Man, Quaritch. As she absorbed all the new sights of false lights and smells of oil and refined metal, the Tsahik turned back in the middle of the celebratory chaos to stare through the others to where her young apprentice stood...
Kalintu’s body pulsed with fear, a prickling sensation through his body when he sensed Varang’s piercing eyes on him. He quickly focused his line of sight on her. She was grinning fiercely at him, sending a deeply unsettling feeling over the adrenaline that was screaming at him to escape back to his little house of thorns. To mix together any concoction of herbs, even on the brink of poison, to let him rest. Deep down, the scared little child he never outgrew would even close his eyes and cover his ears to block it out.
Her words from only three days prior echoed in her ears as if she were whispering them at that very moment...
~~~
“What is he?” Varang snarled with an upturned sneer. After Quaritch had left Kalintu’s hut, she had loomed over him like a storm cloud until he willingly offered his kuru. His hand with the missing finger shook uncontrollably as the pink tendrils laced, and she thrust into his mind without warning.
Kalintu fell back flat, hard enough to knock the air from his lungs before arching. The Tsahik was not gentle with tsaheylu with anyone, but her apprentice’s fractured mind was especially susceptible following a vision. Which she KNEW he’d had during the short unsupervised time with Quaritch.
It’s not that the ash-haired Na’vi didn’t want to answer...it was that he couldn’t. Varang wasn’t asking for words; she wanted his thoughts. What had her apprentice and the Sky Man talked about? What had Kalintu seen from only moments in Quaritch’s presence?
His joints cracked as his back flexed beyond its normal flexibility, limbs twisting attempt to prevent rolling and writhing. His tail snapped against the stones of the fire ring, briefly teasing the flames before snapping out. Cries of pain caught loudly in his throat, like prey caught in traps on all six limbs, but coming out as the growls of numerous predators.
Varang relished in the power of her bond over others, but she found Kalintu especially addicted due to the difficulty it was to decipher his mind. She could physically overpower him, of course. But his thoughts were a puzzle she enjoyed challenging herself with.
“Tell me what you saw.” Varang ordered, crouching low over him with her right palm waving over his pale eyes. The eye tattoo on her hand danced and spun in his vision to the point where he might retch. She placed her hand close to his face, sliding her fingers up under the leather headwraps until they slid off to reveal his own eye tattoo centered in his forehead. She sprawled her tattooed palm wide over his forehead and watched his pale eyes roll back until barely visible.
Images flared through his mind like lightning and illuminated quick thoughts. And Varang could see them all. Sky people airships flanked by ikrans as fire rained down on the endless seas. Webs of severed kurus slithered through a red forest like teylu escaping a hungry gatherer. The screech of her nightwraith sounded from the highest peaks and every tree that tempted to touch the sky.
Varang was euphoric by what she saw. Trapped in complete ecstasy by a mutated hand grasping hers strong and firm.
Amid his mind’s chaos, Kalintu kept parts to himself. He willed with every bit of his body, mind, and soul to conceal the scribbles in the sand and flick of his tail that scrubbed it away...
“You...” Kalintu grit out through clenched teeth, “...are the fire.” A sharp cry of pain escaped with his attempts to speak. “The Sky Man is...” Another yelp met by another forceful wave of mental assault willed by Varang’s connection. “The flint. Where he strikes...your fire...will burn.”
He screamed, even as Varang broke the bond with a satisfied and cruel smile forming on her lips, as her apprentice fell to his side to bring his limbs into the fetal position. Kalintu sounded close to crying from the pain alone, but he had forgotten how to weep many years ago.
“Shh, shh, sh...” Varang cooed gently as she continued to crouch low over him, putting on hand down to brace herself over him while the other started to pet his silvery hair. “It is alright, ma Kalintu...mother is here. Mother is pleased with you.”
~~~
Even now, after three days of deep sleep induced by the Tsahik’s herbs, Kalintu still felt the ghost of her hand on his forehead and her will pierce his mind with the strength of a thousand arrows. He just stood there as the rest of the Mangkwan carried their new spoils into the village center where a great bonfire alread burned but was about to frow larger with the celebration. He may as well have been invisible the way they walked around him like he was no more than a down tree in their path.
“See that one?” Quaritch leaned back to say to his second as he grabbed a special new toy for Varang from the pile of weapons. He nodded his head in the direction of the ash-haired Na’vi, looking completely lost among the crowd of cheering Mangkwan. “That’s the one. The psychic or whatever the hell he’s supposed to be. He knew about the kid...and not the way the Tsahik did.”
“The scruffy one? Cheap tricks.” Wainfleet reasoned, not one to believe in some Na’vi stage magic.
“Confirm it for me, Lyle.” Quaritch said as he turned his attention back to Varang, intent on delivering his special handpicked gift. All eyes were on the Tsahik and Sky Man as he donned her with a strange device that he guided her to point away from the crowd. It lit the air with fire like a comet soaring across the dark world. When she turned it on her own people’s huts, they cheered instead of fearing the loss of their material possessions.
Wainfleet could only roll his eyes and turn his attention to the Na’vi wasting ammo by shooting into the sky when Mangkwan Tsahik pulled his commander into her tent for some obvious and more personal celebrating.
He would add that to the list of concerns he had over the alliance with the Na’vi pyromaniacs...
Shooting guns aimlessly into the air died out as the clan scattered to gather firewood and food and drink. The height of the bonfire had doubled as meat was skewered for roasting and zangke was being poured. Wainfleet only knew what it was from their time with the kid. Spider had told them plenty about the Na’vi way, including the way to relax after a long day by cracking open a cold one. So to speak...
However, Wainfleet wasn’t interested in letting his guard down around the crazy Na’vi even if he didn’t have to scope out some fortunetelling freak. The Mangkwan didn’t pay him much mind aside from offering him food and zangke as he scoped out the crowd. He might also just be another ‘sky man’ to them, but even he got residual favor from being Quaritch’s comrade.
For standing out so much with that full head of silver hair, Wainfleet was quick to lose Kalintu among the other Mangkwan. It took him almost a half hour to realize he should have widened his radar outside the rambunctious dancing of Na’vi and flame to where the glow barely touched.
Sitting on a dead tree that doubled as a seat or surface to lay out drying hides, Kalintu sat with his right leg bent up for his arms to loop around and his false leg stretched down and out comfortably. He had a wooden bowl in his hands, staring into the chunks of spicy meat his stomach was growling for, but the rest of him had no appetite for. Despite some of the opposition from the people in his clan, the rest made sure he was at least given the bare minimum care...if not for the sake of avoiding the Tsahik’s wrath.
“Not much of a partier?” Wainfleet asked loud enough over the crowd to get Kalintu’s attention when his shadow blocking out the light wasn’t enough.
Kalintu blinked and looked up from his meal. He had to crane his neck back to look up at the taller recom from where he sat. His ears instantly folded back as he stared at Wainfleet. The man was smiling in a relaxed manner. It was unusual for anyone to look at the freak of the village that way. After a moment, his eyes dropped a fraction before going back to his untouched food.
“No.” Kalintu said quietly in clear English.
Wainfleet raised his brows and nodded as he acknowledged, “So, you CAN speak English. Thought the boss was pulling my leg.”
Kalintu turned his head slightly, looking up at Wainfleet with a confused look.
“Means I thought he was joking with me.” Wainfleet explained, figuring understanding the language was one thing, but the slang was probably beyond the Na’vi.
Kalintu continued to stare at him, trying to understand how ‘pulling someone’s leg’ was joking then looked down to his own missing one. Joking as in how the other Mangkwan would sometimes steal his prosthesis as some time of horrible game...? He sighed and curled in on himself slightly, pulling his other knee tighter to himself and looking back down at the bowl of meat with renewed interest.
Ok, so maybe it was the wrong first bit of human slang to introduce a one-legged Na’vi to...but it did open a window to keep the conversation going.
“How’d it happen?” Wainfleet asked, sitting down next to him on the log and leaning his arms on his knees to look at the prosthesis. He could see a curve of marks on the Na’vi’s left thigh as well from something with a decent sized bite radius. The colonel wasn’t kidding when he mentioned the guy was falling apart.
Kalintu inhaled deep through his nose as he looked up, reminiscing about that day. That FAILED escape attempt. First attempt; first failure. It seemed at first he wasn’t going to answer Wainfleet, then he moved a hand to his chest to pat it before looking at the recom again with his pale eyes.
“Angry.” he started, looking for the words to fill the gap and settled with: “Tsahik.”
“Tsahik did that?” Wainfleet asked to clarify, raising a brow. Damn, he’d already clocked the fire lady as nuts but what did this timid little mouse do to piss her off that much? Kalintu exhaled the remaining breath after speaking with a sigh as his eyes snapped up to the nightwraith watching the gathering from its perch on Varang’s tent. Wainfleet followed his eyes then looked back at Kalintu, “Ah...gotcha. You pissed her off so much she tried to feed you to her beast? Damn, you really must have screwed up.”
Kalintu’s ears flattened back even more, practically disappearing into his messy, silver hair. He patted his chest again as he spoke, “Tsahik angry. Run...try.”
Wainfleet passed basic decoding 101 back in boot camp; he could figure out the Na’vi’s broken enough.
“I. You’re trying to talk about yourself, right?” Wainfleet asked, receiving a nod of confirmation from Kalintu and receiving his own that the kid understood English better than he could speak it. He continued, “When you’re talking about yourself, you say ‘I’ or ‘me’.”
Kalintu’s ears showed themself a bit when they perked up as he absorbed the new word. He ran the sentence in his head before saying, “Me run-”
“I.” Wainfleet interrupted, “In this case, it’s ‘I’.”
Kalintu cocked his head to the side slightly then corrected himself, “I run. I...angry-...anger. I anger Tsahik.”
Wainfleet nodded, getting enough of the story to realize a court martial for deserting was nothing compared to what the Mangkwan Tsahik did to runaways. The colonel said the psychic Na’vi wasn’t a warrior, but he wasn’t convinced he was anything special yet. Time to start prying a little deeper.
“Did you know it was going to happen?” Wainfleet asked after a few minutes of letting the noise from the Na’vi partying hard around the bonfire settle between them.
“No.” Kalintu said, simple and quiet.
With a slight chuckle, Wainfleet turned his attention back to the Na’vi to look for telltale signs of distress or deceit that Spider had pointed out on the recoms countless times. He narrowed his eyes and leaned a little closer, “Can’t see everything, am I right?”
Kalintu narrowed his eyes right back, understanding why the second sky man was not humoring him with company and conversation. He didn’t mind being questioned about his unique gifts. The foresight, the dreams, the soul searching...he was quite used to it. But usually, people were more straightforward with it.
“No. I cannot.” Kalintu admitted. Wainfleet seemed content with this admission, looking ready to brush off all the Na’vi’s false prophecies as nothing more than cult behavior. Until he jerked his head toward him suddenly, causing the bone beads in his hair to rattle and Wainfleet to lean back. “I can see.”
“See what, my man?” Wainfleet asked, not deterred by the sudden movement.
“Your mate.” Kalintu spoke very clearly this time, loud and firmly.
Wainfleet was washed over with confusion. His mate? What the hell did that mean? He wasn’t exactly finding himself all that attracted to anything closer to his current species. Despite whatever ‘alliance’ his commander was currently engaging in, he had no interest in finding some local tail of his own. Before he could call Kalintu crazy for the thought, he raised his right hand and spread out the fingers, at least the ones that remained, to stop him from arguing.
“Your mate sleeps.” he continued, “Far...but close.”
“Look, guy, I don’t HAVE a mate.” Wainfleet said, getting a little heated now.
“Why did then?” Kalintu said, broken phrasing but easily deciphered.
“Why did I what?” the recom asked with a huff.
The strange Na’vi went quiet for a moment, eyes dropping as he figured out the words were the same in his head, but different when spoken out loud.
“Mate.”
When the silence dropped this time, it stayed. Wainfleet’s eyes had widened at old memories very few people were privy too. Especially some hack job fortune teller on a moon trillions of miles away from where those memories occurred. Decades since those memories took place now. Memories that meant nothing...and yet, suddenly meant everything?
Wainfleet wanted to interrogate Kalintu to the full extent of his power, maybe starting with a little waterboarding or electroshock, to figure out how in the HELL he would have any knowledge of his first human life way back on Earth. When Quaritch told him that Kalintu had told him to 'see' Spider, even drawing a little stick figure in the sand to show what he knew, his second had doubts. Varang had made tsaheylu with him; she could’ve tapped his brain like a hacker to find those weird, seemingly useless at the time, pieces of information.
But this? THIS?!
How did this random ass Na’vi know he had a kid from a one-night stand decades ago...?
“What the fuck are playing at?” Wainfleet finally managed to say, voice low and gravely with a snarl.
Kalintu held his gaze for a few moments longer before standing up. He stared at Wainfleet a few seconds longer before walking away with his cold meal. Whatever prompted the Na’vi to say that wasn’t fueled by any kind of malice or desire for control. He didn’t seem like he was revealing that information to show he had power OVER Wainfleet. Just that he did have some power that Wainfleet was questioning.
And honestly? Kalintu looked drained from the conversation, like the false comradery Wainfleet was trying to build just to question his gifts was repetitive and boring. The corporal let out a bracing breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding as the ash-haired Na’vi left the village center to its celebration of horrible things to come.
Eventually, Kalintu’s keepers would realize he’d left and they would argue who had to would be chaperoning him during the party of the century. But for now, he could stare up at the clear sky into the endless stars in the dark world surrounding Polyphemus. And hidden in that darkness, only months away from its destination, was a new star waiting to appear.
Another one shot for Kalintu! 🧿 His first meeting with the colonel… 🦅
All bold text are the characters speaking in English.
Vision From The Haze
Varang had this way of walking that demanded respect. Her spine could very well slither away with the way her hips swayed, easily catching the recom’s gaze as she led him through the center of her village. Despite the less than polite greeting he first received, Quaritch now recognized having their Tsahik’s favor now made them lower their statute and keep their distance. Through the curious crowds, he could still see the body of the warrior Wainfleet dropped.
Clearly Varang didn’t need her second-in-command anymore now that she had an alliance with the ‘sky man’.
“With all due respect, Tsahik, the sooner I leave,” Quaritch started, his gaze traveling up her ash and painted torso to meet a coy smile from over her shoulder, “The faster I get you what I promised.”
“Yes, Quar-itch.” Varang agreed, her native inflection to his name rolling off her tongue as her tail flipped playfully, “And you will fulfill your promise. But first, someone else must see you.”
Quaritch raised a brow and remarked, “Damn, woman, didn’t know there was a second interview. Thought you were the only one in charge around her.”
Varang stopped and turned, snapping her hand forward to his chest and her grin spreader even further, so her fangs escaped her between her lips. She leaned in close and whispered, “This is true. And so shall this remain true, sky man. You will meet one of my apprentices and he will tell me what he has seen.”
“Has seen?” Quaritch repeated, his ears twitching back in slight confusion.
Varang ran her fingers up his chest and curled them under his chin before letting all her teeth shine in the sun. She didn’t say anything more as she continued to lead Quaritch out of the busy village center where the tents stood. Walking around one of the massive pillars that once held up the massive Mangkwan Home Tree, she ran her fingers along the charred bark until the village noise became muffled and it was just wind blowing by their ears and kicking up dust clouds.
Quaritch cocked his head slightly to get a better look at what Varang was leading him to. From a distance, they were approaching what Quaritch could only describe as a giant tumbleweed tucked back against where two giant roots once twisted around each other to support the old tree’s trunk. Nothing more than a pile of jagged branches and massive brambles. It took on a more definitive shape the closer they got and he realized it was intentional.
There was smoke rising through gaps in the branches that made up the rough, conical roof. Like most of the Mangkwan homes, there were nightmarish totems and large adornments made from carved wood and all manner of bones. Heavy flaps of leather hid their view from what was inside, but if it was anything like the Tsahik’s tent, Quaritch was at least ready to enter another den of drugs and torture.
Varang waved away two Mangkwan warriors who were sitting outside the hut feasting on meat and zangke for their midday meal. They nodded their respect and scampered off, looking glad to be relieved of what Quaritch could only assume was guard duty. Just who the hell was inside this house of thorns?
The Tsahik didn’t need announcing as she swiped the leather flap aside and entered with Quaritch ducking in right behind her. The recom was immediately hit with a hazy wall of smoke and incense. But the smells were vastly different than Tsahik’s tent. He blinked a few times to acclimate his eyes and looked around the interior.
It was much more open inside than he expected. The dead trees and giant vines of thorns that were piled up on the outside were trimmed back to make a shell for the domicile. Sunbeams of varying brightness and size streamed through gaps in the walls and illuminated the wisps of smoke from the center file and bowls of burning incense and herbs scattered about the floor.
On one side was a raggedy pile of furs that must suffice as a bed and the other wall was lined with varying sizes of clay pottery and woven baskets filled with many different items from food and water to strange plants and bones. There were also two distinct piles of tanned animal hides: one was relatively clean and neat while the other was precariously cast aside in no order and looked covered in charcoal or paint.
Quaritch was so busy taking in the new surroundings, checking ‘all the corners’ like his soldier’s mind instinctually demanded, that he didn’t notice the potential threat sitting in the center of the hut by a small fire. Varang had stopped, lazily holding up her hand to tell Quaritch to stop as well. He looked past her to a Na’vi sitting with his back to the entrance, and them by default, and his legs crossed.
Quaritch’s first impression of the Na’vi was that they must be goddamn ancient with a full head of silver hair. Scruffy and unkempt and unlike any hairstyle he’d seen of the Mangkwan. There were uneven lengths and braids hanging down his hunched over back that was at least painted in the way of the Ash People. Ashy white base with vibrant blood red and black as dark as the abyss. As he stared at the back of the stranger, Quaritch narrowed his eyes slightly to notice the tremor in the Na’vi’s shoulders.
“This...” Varang started as she stalked towards the seated Na’vi who was absolutely frozen in place. She placed a gentle hand on his head, slipping her fingers through his silver hair. The Na’vi’s ears pinned down immediately, almost as if trying not to be in the way of the Tsahik’s hand. She tilted her head as she slipped her fingers down to the base of his hidden kuru, “...is Kalintu.”
“Ma Kalintu.”, she continued, running his left ear through her long fingers. Quaritch could see the flesh of it looked a little ragged, like it had been torn. Varang continued to pet the silver-haired Na’vi as she explained, “He is one of my many apprentices. The one who has survived the longest. One who has not been claimed by the fire. Yet.”
Without a care for his comfort, Varang reached down under Kalintu’s jaw and pulled his head all the way back so his spine had to arch to accommodate the extreme bend. Quaritch didn’t expect to see the guy upside down for the first time as his face scrunched up from Varang’s demanding position for him. He closed his eyes tightly as the Tsahik pushed back the leather band wrapped around his head to reveal to Quaritch that there was a distinct tattoo in the center of his forehead.
An eye. A simple one, but very clearly an eye.
Quaritch immediately thought of the tattoo on Varang’s right palm. Hers was much more elaborate like it was dancing in the fire. It was one of the more hypnotizing things about her during this hallucinogenic haze. Watching the apprentice literally bending over backwards gave him the opportunity to realize this Na’vi was no wise old sage. The gray hair was deceiving at best because he could easily recognize that the apprentice was just a kid. Aside from some scarring beneath his face paint, he had young features and not a single wrinkle earned from age.
“He’s a kid.” Quaritch remarked, raising eyebrow as he looked to Varang, “A scrawny one at that.”
“Where Kalintu’s body fails as a warrior...” Varang said, letting her apprentice go and he quickly ducked his head forward to pull the headband back into place with shaking hands, “...his mind corrects his purpose. He sees from the fire. Sees even more when his eyes are closed and his mind rests. Dreams speak through him. To ME. For the victory of my people.”
Quaritch listened carefully. So, this kid – Kalintu – was some kind of psychic to the Mangkwan? So much that Varang, who didn’t seem to need ANY help in the whole spiritual department, trusted him? Or at least wanted a leash on him. The colonel wasn’t about to question the Tsahik of the Mangkwan on any of the Na’vi mystical mumbo jumbo. Especially after making a deal that could finally turn the tide on Sully and the rest of the traitors.
“So, he’s, uh...some kind of prophet? Tells you the future? Predict what happens next?” Quaritch asked, wanting some clarity on why Varang insisted they meet.
“Future. Warnings. Hidden truths.” Varang explained nonchalantly. Her tone shifted from playfully coy to stern as she looked down at Kalintu, who still had not been able to bring himself to make eye contact with them, and commanded, “Kalintu, show the Sky Man what you saw two great moons past.”
“Y-yes, Ma Tsahik...” Kalintu stuttered quietly enough that it was almost drowned out by the low crackling of the flames. He threw aside the tanned hide he’d been drawing on with fresh charcoal from the fire. The black dust on his fingers smudged everything he touched as he pulled out a different piece from the middle of the pile in front of him. He handed it to her quickly.
Varang held up the rough charcoal drawing like she was displaying it to a child as she approached Quaritch. He’d never been all that much of an art lover, but he’d have to give it a try. He took the scrap of hide turned canvas and held it out flat with both hands. It took him a few minutes of silent observation, which Varang graciously allowed, before it started to come together.
Quaritch couldn’t call the kid the best artist, but the visual story was coming together. It was when he recognized long shapes going from top to bottom as the stone pillars from the area Wainfleet’s connection in recon had identified that it started making sense. This was the location the Mangkwan had attacked the Wind Traders, except it looked like the attack was taking place in the middle of a hurricane. It was clear that day, barely a cloud in sight.
He squinted slightly and moved the drawing a little closer to look at what he thought was an awkward tree sticking out of one of the giant flying jellyfish. But no, it wasn’t a tree. It was very distinctly a hand with four fingers accompanying the thumb.
“That day.” Varang began, narrowing her eyes inquisitively, “Thunder came to us on a day without clouds or rain. From unfamiliar hands.”
Quaritch looked up sharply.
“We did not seek it, but we found it.” Varang said, the words slipped off her tongue as smooth as silk. She spun gracefully as she dipped down to crouch at Kalintu’s level and took his face in her hands to look him in the eyes.
“And you think he told you?” the recom blurted out, not really checking his tone. But what the hell did it matter now? Varang had ‘seen his soul’ and seemed their deal was solid. He already went on a wild ride with her; he had to keep his wits about him somehow.
“I know we found what he saw.” Varang said without a hint of doubt, “Many, many, many days before you entered my life, Sky Man.”
Quaritch nodded slightly, looking back to the drawing then to the messy pile of animal skins off to the side that he now learned were drawings from the kid’s visions. And considering it had been a few months since that first encounter, the Mangkwan psychic happened to have THAT drawing ready to show? As if he knew Quaritch would be there on that day...?
“Will he talk to me?” Quaritch asked, his eyes snapping back to Varang. He watched her exchange glances with each of them before stopping on her apprentice. The way they stared at each other with minute twitches of their expressions made Quaritch feel he was missing out on a secret conversation.
“Yes.” Varang said with a nod, standing up suddenly, “Kalintu will speak to you alone.”
Varang quickly walked past Quaritch, giving him a challenging smirk as she did and let her tail flick around his shins as she left the hut without another word.
Quaritch watched the leather flap of the door settle before looking back to the Na’vi he still hadn’t seen properly. He took his first step towards him when Kalintu turn to look at him over his shoulder. It was like whoever sapped the color out of his hair did the same with his eyes. They had this silvery glow with a hint of yellow, like looking at the moon back on Earth when it wasn’t blocked out by smog. Large beads carved from bones hung down the sides of his face and rattled from the motion.
Without realizing, the colonel had stopped in his second step. He cleared his throat and continued to walk around to face the kid head on, but Kalintu quickly turned around and shrunk in on himself as he shuffled away from the fire towards the furs.
“I ain’t gonna hurt ya, kid.” Quaritch said, completely slipping from Na’vi to English from how sudden the kid moved away. He sighed and shook his head, going to repeat himself in a language Kalintu could understand when he was interrupted.
“Know this.” Kalintu said quietly in very broken English, but a human language all the same, as he looked at Quaritch to nod his understanding. This made the recom stop again. How the hell did one of the Mangkwan know English? His eyes darted down to realize why Kalintu hadn’t stood up yet...
As he shuffled across the floor towards the furs he slept on, Kalintu shifted onto his hands and a single foot to move quicker. The colonel could now see the Na’vi was missing part of his left leg; barely a stub remained below the knee. From this action, deep indents from some large-mouthed creature’s teeth disfigured the smooth muscle of his thigh. Reaching his bed, Kalintu grabbed a twisted collection of bones tied together with leather cords and slipped it onto the stump.
Quaritch nodded in understanding, realizing it was a prosthetic leg. Primitive, but effective. Kalintu stood up, a little shaky but up, as he fully faced the Sky Man his Tsahik had brought to him. He ran his hands down his kuru, draped over his shoulder, as he looked Quaritch up and down. With Varang not in the room, Kalintu seemed much less afraid to do...well, anything it seemed.
“So...” Quaritch started and opted for English, his ears pinning back and tail flicking as Kalintu seemed to be analyzing him. He’d just gotten out from under Varang’s microscope, now it was this punk’s turn to try and mess with his mind? He held up one of his hands and asked, “You saw these hands in some dream of yours?”
Kalintu’s mouth opened in surprise that what he’d seen had been true and reached forward as he limped over, gently taking a hold of Quaritch’s four-fingered hand in his right one. Of course, the colonel couldn’t even be annoyed by the contact because he was instantly distracted by yet another missing appendage. Kalintu’s right hand was missing the smallest finger.
“Shit, kid, you’re missing all kinds of pieces.” Quaritch remarked as the Na’vi carefully turned his intact hand to look at the extra digit. No wonder Varang said the kid wasn’t a warrior, he was more of a disabled Na’vi veteran. The colonel turned the table, startling Kalintu, as he pulled his hand free to grab the Na’vi’s damaged hand. “What happened?”
Kalintu stared at Quaritch, like he understood what he was saying in English, but his brain was trying to find the words to answer. His ears flicked back and Quaritch could feel the kid’s hand starting to tremble in his grip. His eyes darted around a few times as he patted his free hand on his chest and stuttered, “B-bite...um...bite...me?”
“Somethin’ bit you?” Quaritch probed. Kalintu nodded but still looked confused, patting himself on the chest again. The colonel thought about it then nodded as he let go of his hand and rephrased his question, “YOU bit you. You bit off your finger.”
The Na’vi nodded fervently, confirming Quaritch’s theory that Kalintu could understand English better than he could speak it.
“Where’d you learn English? You know other human languages?” Quaritch asked, curious enough to learn about the strange Na’vi psychic than he was to gather arms for Varang.
Kalintu’s ears perked up and he turned, shuffling over towards the fire with a limp. He knelt on his right knee, wincing as he tucked the foot beneath him. He took a dried stalk of blue leaves and rubbed it between his hands over the flames, the crumbling leaves falling into the flames and instantly filling the hut with a sweet aroma. He closed his eyes and pulled his hands towards himself to waft the smoke over himself.
“Learn from...” Kalintu started before Quaritch could get annoyed and re-ask his question. He inhaled deeply through his nose and didn't even open his eyes to wave Quaritch forward to join him. Hearing the recom take the few stops and crouch down to join him, he continued, “Dreams. Hear whispers. When...not wake. Many things come...from dreams.”
“Did you see this in a dream?” Quaritch asked, figuring if he was such a good psychic that he didn’t need to see he was holding up the charcoal drawing of the Wind Trader attack.
“Yes.” Kalintu answered clearly.
“You saw me? Specifically?”
“No.”
Quaritch narrowed his eyes; he was still calling bullshit.
“Did Tsahik tell you about me? And the thunder on a clear day?” the colonel asked, figuring the drawing could have been made the moment he walked into the village to negotiate with Varang. At this point in the conversation, Quaritch wasn’t even sure why he was there talking to Kalintu. Varang had insisted he speak to her apprentice, but now the colonel was doing most of the talking.
“No.”
Quaritch sighed. The kid was starting to test his patience in a way he wasn’t used to. He could get answers from people. Maybe not the way his new ally could, but he could get them. The hard way if he had to. But this Na’vi psychic? Something in the recom’s gut told him Kalintu knew FAR MORE than he was letting on. But he wasn’t convinced it was some cheap parlor trick feeding him information.
“You...not see.” Kalintu said then shook his head slightly, “Try. Try see.”
“See what?” Quaritch snapped, grinding his teeth to prevent his temper from flaring.
Kalintu’s eyes snapped open and extended his arm forward. He continued to stare at Quaritch without blinking and not at what he started to draw in the sand around the fire ring. The recom’s eyes darted from Kalintu’s silver gaze to his fingers dragging through the sand. It started as just an oval then he started dragging his fingers away from the shape.
One. Two. Three...
Until there were eight distinct lines pulling away from longer curves of the oval. Just like...a...
Spider.
Quaritch grabbed Kalintu’s wrist in an iron grip, and this managed to snap him out of his unblinking stare down. The Na’vi’s breath hitched, and he looked down at what he drew. A spider. Not a Pandoran spider either. Slowly, his silver eyes raised back up to Quaritch’s golden ones. They were filled with anger and accusation. And something else...something that looked very close to fear.
“How do you know about him?” Quaritch growled, his voice low and threatening.
Kalintu shook his head and tried to pull his hand back, but the colonel had a solid hold on it.
Varang had told Quaritch that she would help him find the other sky man AND the air breather. It wasn’t a secret with her. But for some reason, all his rational senses left even though he’d just met this damn kid less than ten minutes ago mentioned his son. She probably just told him, right? Or did Kalintu really have some freaky mind powers and find out about his human son on his own?
And why the message? Why ‘see’ Spider when Sully was still the mission?
Before Quaritch could enact his own form of interrogation, Kalintu’s tail thrashed across the ground and swept through the spider he’d drawn in the sand. The drawing was erased from view as the leather entrance flapped open with Varang’s grand re-entrance. She eyed them both then looked at Quaritch’s fingers wrapped tight around Kalintu’s wrist.
“What has he seen?” Varang asked, her eyes narrowing dangerously on her apprentice for potentially insulting her new ally.
Quaritch stared at her in silence then looked back to Kalintu, who was visibly shrinking in on himself in the Tsahik’s presence. The Na’vi’s whole arm was shaking in his hold and he let go. Kalintu immediately pulled his arms in close and found his kuru, immediately running his hand down the smooth braid out of nervous habit.
“Nothing, Tsahik.” Quaritch eventually said, standing upright and towering over Kalintu. “But you’re right. We...see each other.”
Varang’s tail swished slightly as Quaritch walked towards her. He paused and leaned close to whisper, “Time for me to keep up my end of the deal, Tsahik.”
Quaritch had to blink his eyes again several times to reacclimate to the brightness outside after stepping back outside. As he did, he looked at the drawing still bunched up in his hand and opened it to look at it again. Did this Kalintu kid really ‘see’ all that before it happened?
Stone spires...human hands...thunder on a clear day...
Glancing back inside through the gaps in the leather before they settled flat, Quaritch could see the kid flat on his back and writhing in invasive agony as a purple glow lit up Varang’s face from the bond she held so tightly in her hand...
