Chapter Text
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When Vander woke, the other side of the hammock was cold. While Silco would wake early, always deeming that the rising sun allowed for the most opportune time to educate the young and communicate with Eywa, the sun had not even risen above the horizon. Darkness still permeated the sky, the lights of the forest still shining through.
He pulled himself out of his hammock and swung himself back onto the tree branch, stretching his muscles as he did. He was still just as active as he was in his youth, but old age was getting to him. Every morning, he swore his back would hurt a little more and his bones would ache slightly louder.
He turned to the other side of the trunk, peering into his children’s hammock. Violet was sprawled on her stomach, one hand flopping over the side while the other unconsciously fisted and unfisted. Claggor was sleeping on his side with the side of the hammock pulled over him, always the coldest at night, while Mylo was starfished on the other side of Violet, with one hand bunched near his face as he drooled.
Vander couldn’t help but frown when he noticed his youngest child’s absence. Powder, the poor girl, only ever slept well when everyone was in the hammock, normally squishing between himself and Vi for the ‘most warmth,’ so he made sure to sleep in the family hammock as much as he could, but sometimes he and Silco needed the space.
Silco was also aware that he should not be waking Powder this early in the morning. Vander had talked about this with him, over and over again. Powder needed whatever sleep she could get, and waking her before the others rose merely because he wanted her to learn ‘better’ was no excuse to deprive their daughter of sleep. At its worst, Powder would return to their hammock and fall asleep before the sun had even set.
He sighed to himself and walked away from his three sleeping children, determined to find his mate and little girl.
As he walked past his people, he noted that nobody else seemed to be awake. Other families still slept soundly in their hammocks, and he felt the sudden urge to turn around, go into his hammock, and fall asleep bundled up next to his children. He shook the feeling off— it wouldn’t feel right, not without his baby girl.
As he jumped from trunk to trunk, winding himself further down and closer to the stable floor below, he noticed that Powder and Silco’s normal spot was empty. Maybe they had gone to the Tree of Voices? He knew that was Powder’s favourite place, and Silco may have let her choose the location to make up for waking her at such an early hour.
By the time he reached the Tree, the sun had risen and the day had begun. Vander would swore he walked around the entire area, yet there was no sign of his daughter. He felt his gut churn in unease. They had to be somewhere, he knew. It didn’t settle the nausea building in his stomach.
When he returned to Hometree, people were finally up and moving, greeting him as he walked past and offering him things, such as fruit that had been picked or animals that had been cooked. He refused it all, not trusting his stomach to hold it down. Maybe he would take up the offer of the Spartan fruit once his stomach settled.
“Olo’eyktan,” he heard behind him, and he turned to see a woman a good decade younger than him, with paint still on her face and tear tracks still running through them. It was the woman from the night before— Eyne, the girl who had lost her mate in a hunt.
When they had returned from the hunt the day before, a man had been injured by nantang, a small slash on his shoulder, no wider than Vander’s thumb. Silco had treated it, of course, but the man’s body had suddenly given out, and he had died. It had been shocking and unexpected, and the look on Silco’s face when he has come out of the tent and told his mate that he was with Eywa had been haunting.
“Yes, my child?” He asked, and Eyne opened her mouth to speak before faltering, looking nervously from side to side. “Speak,” he said softly, going to calm her, but she merely shook her head.
“I can’t explain it— please, follow me.” An odd request, but not one he saw any point in denying. Especially since the young woman would be grieving. She led him to the outside of Hometree, when her mate’s body still resided. They were going to reunite him with Eywa later in the morning, when everyone had risen and could witness the next chapter of his story. Death was normally predictable. No one had expected anyone to die.
“There is something on the wound,” she whispered, and she gestured to the blanket that covered him. He gave her a glance before peeling it off to his shoulder, looking at the wound in his shoulder. Indeed, it looked different from when he had first shown it to Silco and himself, but not so different. It looked darker and more solid.
“I…I do not wish to accuse the Tsahik of anything, I swear, Olo’eyktan,” Eyne started, but Vander blinked and rose from where he was kneeling, placing a gentle hand on her shoulder. While it didn’t comfort all, it comforted his children, and he hoped it did for her too.
“Speak your mind, there is no ill will.” Obviously, Silco had done the best he could with the materials they had and Eywa’s blessing on the man, but it was probably that the woman was confused in her grief and didn’t understand that—
“The wound is a burn. He was burned.” Vander paused, and his hand slipped off her shoulder. She stood up and glanced back at the man’s body, tears brimming in the corner of her eyes, threatening to spill over. “I swear it, look, feel it! It’s melted skin.”
Vander turned back to the body and drifted his finger across the wound, feeling the ridges of the surface pull gently at his skin. It almost felt wet, yet he could feel the firmness. The wound was burned. This was a burn scar.
Fire was a tenuous subject, and had been ever since the Mangkwan clan had attacked a group of hunters, leaving nothing but charred bones and trees behind. Many had died that night, and fire had become a…sore subject for many. Fire wasn’t used for health. It wasn’t used for healing. This was something Silco would know. This was something he would have to know.
Vander shot up and marched away from the body, leaving the woman and her mate behind, and he marched up the trunk and toward his children’s hammock where they all still slept soundly, even though they should have all been awake by now. Powder was the one who woke them up on time, normally.
He jumped down onto it, making it shake and churn at his added weight and swiftly waking his children up. “Shit!” Vi cried out, Mylo’s palm smacking her across the face as he startled awake. “Dad?” Claggor questioned, but Vander kept his face stern. “Where is your sister?” The three pissed then looked at the empty place next to Vi where she should’ve been.
“Uh, dunno,” Mylo said, rubbing his palm, “Silco probably took her for another early lesson.” The older two nodded in agreement. Vander felt his head thump in his chest.
He knelt down in front of them, and they were quick to snap to attention, clearly noticing the seriousness of his gesture. “Last night, Silco used fire when he tried to heal a man. It failed. He died.” All of their eyes blew wide as they processed what he said, taking in the information and the implications one at a time.
“Now, he is gone, your sister is gone, and I cannot find him. Do you know where your sister is?” The three looked between each other and shook their heads slowly, and Vi’s eyes slowly narrowed.
“My daughter and your Tsahik are missing,” Vander said slowly. His people looked between each other, an almost dazed look on their faces as they did. A few of the older members shook their heads slowly, and he heard the sound of a small child’s shout toward the back of the gathered crowd.
“If anyone has seen where they have disappeared to, I would owe a great debt to you.” Yet, people still remained silent. However, he could hear a mumble, and the crowd fell silent as they turned in the direction of the voice. His eyes followed suit, and his eyes landed on Eyne. Her face, which had been steely, had quickly wilted when she noticed the attention her whispers had brought. “Speak,” he called.
She visibly calmed herself before stepping forward. “Ma Ni’oka, his wound, it was small and soft. But when the Tsahik tried to heal him, he died. When I felt the wound, it was burnt over. He killed him.” Her eyes fell to him. “He left us and went to the Mangkwan, and he probably took little Powder Blue with him.”
The crowd erupted into shouts and screams, and his gaze on Eyne was lost in the chaos of the people moving to and from. It was a serious accusation— accusing the Tsahik of defecting to those who thrived on defying the Great Mother, accusing him of murder, yet it seemed everyone had already accepted it. He turned to Vi, who was seated next to him, but to his shock she was shouting alongside them, leaping into the fray.
What was happening? He couldn’t believe his people, his own children, would turn on his own mate so quickly with so little evidence. He went to speak, but was interrupted before he could.
“He probably realised he was doomed the moment the burn was noticed,” someone yelled.
“He fled like a coward because he knew he was caught,” another shouted.
Vander fell back against the wood, watching them all shout and conspire between each other. Little Ekko, his Powder’s best friend, hoisted himself up into Vi’s shoulders to be seen. His face was contorted with such grief and rage Vander felt faint. “He took Powder with him because she was truly connected to the Great Mother. He took her because she was already more of a Tsahik than he ever was!”
They were in an uproar when Claggor rushed to his side, holding him upright with his brow furrowed in concern. “Do you hear what they’re saying,” he whispered faintly, his voice leaving him, “What Violet is saying about her own father?”
Claggor winced. “…I don’t think they’re wrong,” Claggor began, and Vander closed his eyes. “He has been acting…strangely, for the last few months, and he’s been weird about Powder, too. We know you said to stop taking her on so many private lessons so long ago, but he’s just taken her on more.”
Vander shot upright. “What? Why did you not tell me?” Claggor worried his lip.
“It was late at night, I-…nobody else was ever awake but me, and I didn’t want to bother you. Plus, Pow told me not to tell anyone, said they were her ‘secret lessons.’”
Vander turned back to the crowd. Violet was still holding Ekko on her shoulders, the two holding the same, determined expressions. Mylo was next to her, but his face was pale and his eyes were wide, and he kept looking around like he wasn’t sure where he was.
“We’ll send out ikran’s to try and find them!” His eldest daughter ordered. She sounded more like a leader than he ever has. “There’s a possibility they didn’t make it far. Fan out, and find my sister!” People nodded and leapt for the branches, calling out to their ikran’s in preparation.
Vander steadied himself, took a deep breath, and began to walk up the trunk. “Dad?” Claggor asked, but Vander gently waved his hand.
“Leave me. I need a moment.” The sounds of the shouts got quieter and quieter, and he felt his eyes squeeze shut, trying to keep out the tears he knew would inevitably escape his lids.
His baby girl, out there, with the man he thought was his mate. He had betrayed his clan, betrayed him. How could Silco have abandoned the Great Mother? As the one who was supposed to know her the closest out of anyone? How could Silco lie to him, tell him with a straight face that he followed the will of Eywa when he was dabbling in fire and ash behind his back? The betrayal hurt worse than the disregardment of Eywa.
And to not only forsake their Great Mother, but steal away their child. Their baby. Felicia and Connol’s little girl. They had been trusted to care for them and Silco had all but spat on their graves. How could Silco have stood to watch him kiss his daughter goodnight, to tell her that he loved her and that he would see her in the morning, knowing he would whisk her away before the sun could rise? This was not the man he fell in love with. Vander did not know this man at all.
Who knew where she could be? Maybe she was on his back, excited for a new adventure. Or maybe she was already in Eywa’s em— No, he can’t afford to think like that. She would find her way home. If there was one thing he knew about his little girl, it’s that she would find a way back to him. Back to her family.