The floating mountain felt different once the chaos of the first landings had settled.
The air still hummed with the echo of beating wings and raised voices, but beneath it lay something steadier—an undercurrent of shared triumph, disbelief, and quiet awe. Newly bonded riders stood scattered across the broad stone shelf, hands resting instinctively on the flanks or necks of their ikran, as if afraid the creatures might vanish if touched too lightly.
Nussudle stood apart from the others, one hand pressed against the warm, powerful hide of his ikran.
It towered over most of the others even at rest, its size unmistakable now that the frenzy of flight had passed. Its wings were folded neatly along its sides, the black-and-blue membranes catching the light in muted, shifting patterns. Each breath it took rolled through its chest like distant thunder, slow and controlled. It did not pace or hiss like some of the younger ikran nearby. It simply watched.
Watched everything.
Nussudle felt that attention through the bond—focused, alert, fiercely present. Not possessive, exactly, but protective in a way that made his spine straighten unconsciously. This creature was not merely tolerant of him. It acknowledged him.
As if responding to the thought, the familiar shimmer of the system unfolded before his eyes.
Mighty-Class Ikran Bond Established
Bond Level: 2
Designation Required: Name Pending
Nussudle blinked.
A name.
He had known it would come—every rider named their ikran, a tradition as old as the trial itself—but seeing it framed so plainly, so immediately, made the moment feel heavier. More deliberate. The system did not prompt lightly, and it never prompted without consequence.
Around him, the other hunters were already laughing, shouting names aloud, some bold, some clumsy, some clearly decided long before they ever reached the sky.
"Stormclaw!" someone yelled.
"Brightwing!"
"Va'kira!"
Eytukan's voice rose above the rest, confident and proud as he addressed the group, gesturing broadly. "Announce them! Let the mountains hear! Let Eywa hear!"
Nussudle didn't respond.
He didn't even look up.
His gaze remained locked on the massive ikran's eyes.
Up close, they were even more striking—rings of deep red threaded with burning yellow, bright with intelligence and something sharper. There was no wild frenzy there now, no confusion. Only presence. Awareness. A silent, unwavering focus that made Nussudle feel as though he were being weighed and measured in return.
The bond stirred faintly, not demanding, not impatient.
Waiting.
Names mattered.
They were not just sounds. They were intentionally given shape. To name an ikran was to acknowledge its nature and one's place beside it, not above it. The elders said a poorly chosen name could weaken the bond. A false name could fracture it entirely.
Nussudle breathed slowly, letting the surrounding noise fade.
He thought of the way the ikran had launched itself into open air rather than submit. Of the moment its wings had snapped open, defying gravity with sheer force of will. Of the raw power he had felt beneath him, vast and uncontained, yet capable of precision once trust took hold.
He thought of fire and sky.
Of destruction and creation intertwined.
Of something that did not merely endure the world, but reshaped it by existing within it.
The name came quietly.
Not spoken aloud.
Not forced.
It settled into his thoughts as if it had always been there.
Nova téras.
World-bearer. Sky-breaker. Something new forged from old force.
"Yes," Nussudle whispered within his mind, steady and certain. "Nova téras."
The system reacted instantly.
Designation Confirmed: NOVA TÉRAS
Class: Mighty-Class Ikran
Bond Level Increased: 2 → 5
Bond Status: MAXIMUM
Congratulations. Successful Taming and Full Neural Synchronisation Achieved.
The bond surged.
Not violently—no overwhelming flood this time—but with profound clarity. It was as if a door he hadn't known existed had opened fully, allowing both of them to stand on the same ground. Nussudle gasped softly as sensation sharpened: the air pressure around them, the faint vibrations in the stone, the distant wingbeats of other ikran resonating like echoes in his bones.
Nova téras lowered its head slightly, bringing one massive eye level with him.
There was no roar.
No hiss.
Only acknowledgement.
Behind him, Eytukan stopped mid-sentence.
"Nussudle?" he said, frowning slightly. "I said, we should—"
Nussudle didn't hear him.
Not yet.
The world had narrowed to two beings standing at the edge of the sky, bound not by command, but by choice.
The noise rushed back in all at once.
It wasn't a physical sound so much as a pressure—voices, wingbeats, the scrape of talons on stone—returning to Nussudle as though someone had lifted a veil. The moment of stillness between him and Nova téras thinned, stretched, and finally gave way to the reality of where he stood: among a crowd, on a floating mountain, with the sky yawning endlessly below.
Eytukan was standing a few paces away now, his expression caught somewhere between confusion and wonder.
"Nussudle," he repeated, louder this time. "What did you name it?"
Several nearby riders turned, curiosity flickering across their faces. Naming was a communal moment—spoken aloud, shared, celebrated. Silence here felt conspicuous.
Nussudle opened his mouth, then hesitated.
Before he could speak, Eytukan took a step closer.
It was a natural movement. Familiar. The kind of gesture made without thought, driven by habit more than intent. His hand lifted slightly, as if to clap Nussudle on the shoulder the way he had done countless times before—after a good hunt, a difficult lesson, a moment earned.
Nova téras reacted instantly.
A deep, resonant growl rolled from its chest, vibrating through the stone beneath them. Its head snapped toward Eytukan, massive neck muscles tightening as its lips peeled back to reveal rows of serrated teeth. The display was not frantic or panicked—it was controlled, deliberate, and unmistakably territorial.
Eytukan froze.
His own ikran hissed in response, wings flexing as it stepped sideways, placing itself half between its rider and the perceived threat. The sound cut through the air sharply, and several nearby ikran answered in kind, agitation spreading like a ripple across the landing shelf.
Riders stepped back instinctively.
Talons scraped stone. Wings unfurled partway. The air filled with low growls and warning calls as the creatures reacted to one another's tension, each bond flaring defensively. What had moments ago been a celebration edged dangerously close to chaos.
"Nussudle," Eytukan said carefully, his hand lowering, his voice steady despite the situation. "Tell your ikran to stand down."
Nussudle felt it all at once—the surge of defensive instinct through the bond, Nova téras' absolute certainty that this space, this being, was to be protected. There was no malice in it. No hunger. Only unwavering resolve.
He swallowed and stepped forward, placing himself clearly between Nova téras and Eytukan.
"Easy," he murmured, voice low, soothing, not a command but a reassurance. He reached up slowly, palm open, and rested his hand against Nova téras' snout.
The hide was warm beneath his fingers. Alive. Responsive.
Through the bond, he felt the ikran's tension hesitate, then loosen slightly. The growl faded into a low rumble as its head lowered a fraction, though its eyes never left Eytukan.
"I'm sorry," Nussudle said, turning toward his brother at last. "I—he's not used to others yet."
Eytukan stared at him, awe slowly overtaking surprise. "It's not that," he said quietly. "I've never seen one respond like that. Not this quickly. Not this… intensely."
Around them, the other riders watched in hushed fascination. Even the elders observing from farther ledges leaned forward slightly, attention sharpened. Mighty-class ikran were rare, and full bonds rarer still—but this was something beyond ordinary pairing.
Nussudle felt heat creep up his neck. He turned back to Nova téras, rubbing gently along the ridge of its snout with his thumb, letting calm bleed through the connection.
"It's all right," he whispered. "He's family."
The word carried weight.
Nova téras snorted softly, a short burst of breath that stirred loose grit across the stone. Then, unexpectedly, it scraped one hind wing claw against the ground in a slow, deliberate motion. The sound was low and rhythmic—not aggressive, but expressive.
Nussudle blinked.
A pulse of satisfaction rolled through the bond. Contentment. Approval.
A few of the nearby riders let out quiet laughs of relief, tension easing as the ikran around them gradually settled. Wings folded back in. Hisses faded into murmurs. The landing shelf returned, cautiously, to equilibrium.
Eytukan let out a breath he hadn't realised he was holding. He stepped back a pace, giving Nova téras the space it clearly demanded.
"Well," he said, a crooked smile forming, "I suppose that answers my question."
Nussudle finally spoke the name aloud.
"Nova téras."
The syllables felt right on his tongue—solid, deliberate, unyielding.
Eytukan's brows rose slightly. "World-bearer," he murmured. Then he laughed under his breath. "You always did have a flair for the dramatic."
Nussudle huffed a quiet laugh, tension loosening in his chest.
Nova téras lifted its head again, eyes sweeping the gathered riders before settling once more on Nussudle. The bond hummed, strong and steady, no longer flaring but anchored.
For the first time since landing, Nussudle truly felt it: not just the thrill of flight, but the responsibility that came with it. This wasn't just a mount. This was a force of nature that had chosen him.
And Eywa, it seemed, had taken notice.
The landing shelf slowly found its rhythm again, but something had shifted.
It was subtle—no great declaration, no sudden silence—but the way eyes lingered on Nussudle now was different. Riders who had moments ago been preoccupied with their own ikran stood a little straighter, conversations trailing off as they glanced his way. Even the creatures seemed aware of the change. Several ikran shifted their positions, giving Nova téras a wider berth, wings folding tighter, tails flicking with cautious attention.
Eytukan noticed it too.
He stepped aside, addressing the group with a raised hand, his voice steady but carrying an undercurrent of excitement that hadn't been there before. "All right," he said. "Enough staring, it's as if you've never seen a sky-beast before. This is still Iknimaya. Bonds are fresh. Give them space."
A few riders laughed softly, grateful for the grounding reminder. They turned back to their own ikran, murmuring names and calming gestures, though more than one gaze drifted back toward Nussudle and Nova téras.
Eytukan lingered near him after the others dispersed.
"You felt it too, didn't you?" his brother said quietly.
Nussudle nodded. "The bond?"
"No," Eytukan replied, eyes flicking briefly to Nova téras' massive frame. "The attention. That wasn't just curiosity. Elders don't look like that unless something unusual's happened."
As if summoned by the words, movement stirred at the far end of the shelf.
Two elders approached, their pace unhurried, expressions carefully neutral. Their ikran followed at a respectful distance, heads lowered slightly, wings held close to their sides. One of the elders—an older male with braided hair marked by pale beads—studied Nova téras openly, eyes sharp with assessment rather than fear.
"Mighty-class," he said at last. It wasn't a question.
"Yes," Eytukan answered before Nussudle could speak. "And fully bonded."
The elder's gaze snapped briefly to Nussudle. "Fully?"
Nussudle hesitated, then inclined his head. "The bond stabilised immediately."
A murmur passed between the elders. The older male stepped closer, careful to stop well short of Nova téras' reach. The ikran watched him intently but did not react further, its posture relaxed yet unmistakably alert.
"This is rare," the elder said, not unkindly. "Most Mighty-class bonds take seasons to settle. Some never truly do."
Nussudle felt the weight of the words settle into his chest. "I didn't force it," he said, quietly but firmly. "I didn't try to dominate."
The elder studied him for a long moment, then nodded. "Good. Then Eywa has seen fit to place a heavy path before you."
Eytukan frowned slightly. "What kind of path?"
The elder's mouth curved into something like a smile, though there was no humour in it. "The kind that draws attention whether it wishes to or not."
With that, the elders moved on, leaving behind a wake of murmured speculation and thoughtful silence.
Nussudle exhaled slowly.
He hadn't realised until that moment how tightly he had been holding himself together. The system flickered briefly at the edge of his vision, no new prompts appearing, only the quiet confirmation of what had already occurred. The bond level remained steady at five—maximum. Immutable.
Nova téras shifted beside him, lowering its head slightly so that its forehead brushed against Nussudle's shoulder. The contact was careful, almost gentle, despite the creature's size. Through the bond came a faint pulse of reassurance, steady and grounding.
"I know," Nussudle murmured under his breath. "This is… a lot."
The ikran responded with a soft, rumbling sound deep in its chest, the vibration thrumming through Nussudle's bones. It was not a sound of uncertainty. If anything, it carried a quiet confidence—as if Nova téras accepted the path ahead without question.
Around them, the landing shelf buzzed with renewed energy. Riders practised mounting and dismounting, testing balance and responsiveness. Some ikran were restless, pacing or snapping at the air, while others settled quickly, already accustomed to their rider's presence.
Nayat'i approached hesitantly.
Her steps slowed as she neared, eyes flicking briefly to Nova téras before returning to Nussudle's face. "Your ikran," she said, choosing her words carefully, "he's… incredible."
Nussudle gave a small, uncertain smile. "He is."
She nodded, then hesitated again, fingers twisting lightly at her side. "When you jumped," she said quietly, "I thought you were going to disappear into the clouds."
He met her gaze. "So did I."
For a moment, the weight of everything unsaid hovered between them—fear, distance, choice. Then Nayat'i glanced at Nova téras again, noticing how the ikran's posture shifted subtly when she moved closer to Nussudle, not threatening but attentive.
"He listens to you," she observed.
Nussudle followed her gaze. "He chose me."
Nayat'i smiled softly at that, something warm and genuine breaking through her earlier restraint. "Then I think Eywa made the right decision."
She stepped back, giving him space once more, but this time the distance didn't feel like a wall.
As the light shifted and the floating mountains cast long shadows across the clouds below, Nussudle stood beside Nova téras and let the reality of it all settle in. He had not simply survived Iknimaya. He had emerged changed—marked by a bond that would shape every step forward.
Whatever awaited him beyond these mountains—Wind Traders, visions, fire in the sky—he would face it not alone, but with a force that matched his own determination.
And somewhere deep within the living rock and endless air, Eywa watched.
The sun had begun its slow descent when the elders called the riders together.
The light here was strange—fractured by drifting cloud and reflected off floating stone—casting long, shifting shadows that made the landing shelf feel suspended not just in space, but in time. One by one, the newly bonded hunters guided their ikran into a loose semicircle facing the elders' perch. Wings folded. Talons settled. The restless energy of first flight gradually gave way to something steadier, more solemn.
Recognition.
Nussudle stood at the front almost by accident. Or perhaps not. Nova téras had chosen its place instinctively, positioning itself slightly ahead of the others, broad wings tucked close but ready. The ikran's presence altered the space around it; even without aggression, its size and composure commanded attention.
The elder with the pale beads stepped forward again, staff tapping once against the stone to draw focus.
"You have all completed Iknimaya," he said, his voice carrying easily through the open air. "You leapt when the sky offered nothing but emptiness. You faced creatures that would have ended you without hesitation. You trusted not only yourselves, but Eywa."
He let his gaze pass over each rider in turn.
"From this moment onward, you are no longer hunters in training. You are riders."
A murmur rippled through the group—quiet, reverent. Some bowed their heads. Others straightened with visible pride.
"You will learn," the elder continued, "that riding an ikran is not about control. It is about listening. The bond you have formed will test you as much as it will carry you. Respect it, or it will break you."
His eyes lingered on Nussudle.
"And some bonds," he added, carefully, "will shape more than just the rider."
The elder stepped back, signalling the end of the rite. The tension that had held the group together loosened all at once. Laughter bubbled up again, mingled with relieved sighs and quiet embraces. Riders mounted their ikran with more confidence now, testing movements, calling out to one another across the stone.
Eytukan approached Nussudle once more, this time stopping a respectful distance away from Nova téras. His grin was unmistakable.
"Rider Nussudle," he said, tone teasing but proud. "Try not to make the rest of us look bad."
Nussudle snorted softly. "No promises."
Eytukan's gaze flicked to Nova téras again, then back to his brother. "You know," he said more seriously, "that ikran will draw eyes wherever you go."
"I know," Nussudle replied.
"And not all of them friendly."
"I know that too."
Eytukan nodded, satisfied, and clapped his hands together once. "All right! We return before the light fades. Mount up."
One by one, the riders took to the air again, this time with purpose rather than desperation. The flock lifted together, wings beating in staggered rhythm as they peeled away from the floating mountain. Nussudle mounted Nova téras smoothly, settling into place as though he had done it all his life.
Ready, the ikran's presence pulsed.
"Always," Nussudle murmured.
They launched.
The return flight was calmer, the sky no longer an adversary but an ally. Nussudle guided Nova téras with growing confidence, banking cleanly through cloud corridors and riding thermals that carried them effortlessly forward. Below, the world stretched vast and layered, forests and rivers softened by distance.
As the flock descended toward the lower mountains, the reality of what had changed began to sink in.
He was not the same boy who had crept through Home Tree at night. Not the reckless hunter in training who had thrown himself into danger without understanding the cost. He had faced the sky and been accepted—not just by Eywa, but by a creature that embodied the wild freedom he had always felt drawn toward.
When they finally landed at the designated return perch, the riders dismounted and began preparing for the journey home. Supplies were adjusted. Harnesses checked. Directions discussed.
Nussudle lingered.
He rested his forehead against Nova téras' neck, closing his eyes briefly. The bond hummed quietly, no longer overwhelming, simply there—a constant, steady presence.
"Thank you," he whispered, not sure whether the words were for the ikran, Eywa, or himself.
Nova téras responded by lowering its head and nudging him gently, a gesture surprisingly delicate for such a massive creature. Through the bond came a sensation of readiness, of forward motion not yet taken.
The future loomed—uncertain, dangerous, burning with possibility. Wind Traders. Visions of fire and falling mountains. Responsibilities he was only beginning to understand.
But for the first time, the thought didn't weigh him down.
Nussudle stepped back, meeting the ikran's gaze once more. Red and yellow eyes met his without challenge, without doubt.
Together, they turned toward the open sky.
(AN: Hi guys iget that in the film and comics their wasn't really any 'mighty' class things but for this fanfic, i wanted to add classes for beasts. This feature and description will be rare and wont be placed willy nilly but you will understand that the beast which had chosen Nussudle isnt like another Ikran known. No its not a Toruk btw, Also i get their wasnt elders in the films watching over the hunters, but i wanted to add it for some extra spice.)