Chapter two

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It was early evening, when the Volcanic people finally arrived to the home of the Omatikaya, deep in the heart of the Floating Mouintains. The High Camp was filled with hum and whispers of the people as they fixed their eyes on the newly arrived guests. Though their overall appearances were almost identical, the Volcanic people's clothes, often gathered in intricate cloaks with unique patterns, helped distinguish them.

At the back of the group stood Naveah, still covered in dirt and leaves, desperately attempting to hide from the piercing gazes of the hosts. However, even under this makeshift disguise, she felt exposed, unable to escape the glances of the curious crowd.

"Oh, how I wish I could disappear, to blend seamlessly with my surroundings even in this dreadful moment," Naveah thought to herself, her heart heavy with discomfort and uncertainty.  Neteyam and Jake were engaged in a serious conversation with Mo'at and Neytiri standing by their side. Naveah's gaze settled on a group of people: one boy and two girls, two of whom possessed features mirroring those of Toruk Makto and his wife, making them unmistakably Neteyam's siblings.

"People of the Volcanic clan, feel welcomed at our humble shelter. In times of hardship, it is essential to extend our compassion to our brothers and sisters from other clans, for we are all children of Eywa, united against a common foe," Jake addressed the gathering with warmth. "May I ask you to present your leader?"

Neteyam watched as the woman he was introduced to by Naveah and Raxtan stepped forward. "My name is Hathe, but I am not the rightfully elected leader of the clan," she addressed the gathering . "After our home ceased to exist, among the people who survived the catastrophe, I was chosen to lead them for now."

Mo'at, the wise Tsahìk of the Omatikaya, approached Hathe with gentle grace, her eyes filled with profound empathy as she studied the lines of sorrow etched upon Hathe's face. "Hathe, I sense the weight of immense grief burdening your heart, but despite the pain, please share with us the tale of how you came to lose your home. We seek to understand the depth of your loss and offer solace in this time of darkness."

Hathe's voice trembled with anguish as she recounted the devastating events that had unfolded merely ten days ago. The weight of sorrowful memories seemed to bear down on her, but she pressed on, determined to share her clan's harrowing tale.

"We lived peacefully within the embrace of ancient caves and tunnels, nestled deep within the heart of a long-extinct volcano. Yet, little did we know that our tranquil existence would be shattered in a matter of moments. On the eventful evening, the earth beneath us hummed, buzzed, as if restless insects were trapped under our feet. The ground quivered and fell silent, only to be disturbed again by intermittent vibrations. At first, we feared the Sky People had returned to invade us once more, but what followed was beyond anything we could have imagined." Hathe's eyes searched the faces of the forest people, her voice carrying the weight of unspeakable grief. "The ground shook violently, and the once-slumbering volcano erupted with a deafening roar. Lava surged from its peak and raced through the very tunnels we called home, swallowing everything in its fiery path. My clan, over five hundred strong, perished, leaving only those who were fortunate enough to be away from the heart of our abode."

Sobs echoed among the members of the Volcanic clan and the Omatikaya people alike, their hearts burdened with the weight of Hathe's profound loss.

"But we knew, for twenty years now, that our people were marked for an end, all because of the birth of another albino among us!" Hathe's voice now laced with fury, she pointed at Naveah, who stood amidst the crowd.

"Sister, our clan is unfamiliar with such superstitions. Please, enlighten us," urged her Mo'at.

Hathe took a deep breath, her anger subsiding momentarily as she continued, "Throughout the history of the Volcanic clan, babies with skin and hair as white as snow have been born. The first one became a revered Olo'eyktan, admired for his wisdom and the purity of his soul. In times of strife, he led our people to victory and unity. Yet, generations later, another albino was born, and despite initial celebrations, he brought ruin upon the clan through selfish, senseless wars, claiming the lives of many. Another albino followed, believing the color of his skin was a divine sign of his destined leadership. Tragically, he murdered his own brother and anyone who stood in the way of his ambitions, but his rule was swiftly ended by the people's revolt. As these events repeated, a pattern emerged, and we sought answers from the Great Mother herself. A Tsahìk received a prophetic vision in a dream, revealing that the next birth of an albino among us would either bring great glory or unfathomable doom to our clan... and now, witnessing our fate, I fear we already know which path has been chosen." Hathe's words hung heavily in the air.

Naveah stood there, motionless, her gaze fixated on the earth beneath her feet, avoiding the gazes that seemed to pierce her from every direction.

"Can the child with white skin step forward?" Mo'at's voice echoed, cutting through the heavy silence.

Each step felt like as if invisible boulders were tethered to Naveah's feet. She had known shame and hatred before, but this moment, before the eyes of another clan, amplified the weight of humiliation to an unprecedented level.

She arrived before Mo'at, finally looking up, holding her head high with a hint of determination and trying to gather every ounce of dignity she could muster. Naveah's eyes briefly met with Neteyam's, only to catch a glimpse of distress in his expression.

Mo'at extended her arm towards Naveah, gently gripping her dirt-covered face. "And what are we to make of this?" she said, assessing the rest of Naveah's peculiar appearance. "Go cleanse yourself immediately, so we can properly see who stands before us! Someone, guide her to the nearest stream right away!"

Naveah reluctantly followed an older woman who led her to a nearby stream. She briskly scrubbed the dirt off her face and body, feeling tears gathering in her eyes, but she refused to let them fall. Weakness was something she couldn't afford to show now. Removing all the leaves entwined in her hair, she stood up and took a deep breath, preparing herself to face the crowd once again. 

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