The world is vast and contains as many stories as there are people to tell them. Everyone by now must know the tale of Avatar Aang, and his journey to defeat the Fire Lord, Ozai. During his travels, the Avatar met people from all lands, and it can be safely stated that this ever-expanding network of friends and acquaintances was a primary factor in inspiring the Avatar and granting him strength of spirit.

Every person Avatar Aang met had, by extension, a tale of their own. Some were royalty and heroes, whose praises echo far and wide. Others, however, are far less renowned, though their tales are no less colorful. One of man's tale remains yet untold. He was a man who woke one morning having never met the Avatar, and went to sleep that night knowing he would never meet the Avatar again. In truth, it might be said that he lived the rest of life uncertain that he actually had met the Avatar. And yet, this man taught the Avatar a lesson which would guide and strengthen him for the rest of his life: "Let love lead the way."

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This is the tale of the nomad musician known as "Chong." Based on estimates of his age upon meeting the Avatar, Chong's birth is believed to have occurred in a small Earth Kingdom farming village, some 66 years after the Fire Nation's scouring of the Air Nomads. Chong's birth name is unknown, but interviews compiled late in his life reveal that he dropped his given name to "cast off [his] ego," while at the same time changing his family name from its original "Jeong" to the universal Earth Kingdom spelling of "Chong" to "better connect with as many people as possible."

At the age of seventeen, a momentous incident occurred, one which would shape Chong's life and character forever. Although we have chosen to dramatize this incident in our retelling, rest assured that every step has been taken to maintain historical accuracy where possible. We have also chosen to render his name as "Chong," although he would not go by this identity until a year or so later.

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Chong sat at his desk in the small, one-room schoolhouse. As the teacher lectured on botany, marking the board at the head of the room, Chong gazed out the window. His seat was in the back corner, with the window immediately to his left. The students sitting in front of Chong were bathed in warm sunlight, yawning and napping on their desks. In his mind, Chong scoffed. He was a brilliant student and knew it. He would never laze about as they did. No, he would accomplish something in life. Chong was the eldest of two sons in his family, and was being groomed to inherit his father's large apricot-plum orchard. Toil was all that Chong could expect in adulthood, and hard work was its own reward.

"Chong, would you care to answer my question?" the teacher asked. The teacher was a slim man in his fifties, Mr. Choe. Chong stood and gave his answer.

"The cacti which grow in the Desert of the Earth Kingdom store a debilitating toxin in the crown and fruit. This toxin is known to seep into the cactus' internal juices. Thus, it is not advisable to drink cactus juice when traversing the desert, elegant a solution as it may seem."

"Excellent as always, Chong. I think that's it for today's lesson. Tomorrow is our weekly study of social constructs. We'll be discussing the corruption of the working class, so that's a nice change from the usual, eh? You are dismissed!" The students rose, bowed, and quickly fled the schoolhouse, save for Chong, who remained. When the others had cleared out, Chong made his way to the lectern, where Mr. Choe gathered his notes to take home.

"Mr. Choe?"

"Yes, what is it, Chong?"

Chong looked at his feet, slightly embarrassed. Gathering courage, he looked Mr. Choe in the eye. "I'm going to be absent tomorrow. Do you suppose I could get the notes ahead of time?"

Mr. Choe seemed confused. "Why aren't you coming tomorrow?"

"I'll be accompanying my father to Ba Sing Se. He's delivering our yearly crop to the city. Since my family's the only one that trades out that far, my father needs to leave a day before the harvest vacation starts."

Mr. Choe smiled and handed a few sheets of paper to Chong. "I suppose an allowance can be made for the scion of our town's finest entrepreneur family. I have copies at home, so keep those notes as long as you need. Oh, and be sure to keep today's lesson in mind as you cross the desert."

"Thank you, Mr. Choe! I'll read them every day we're on the road. Bye!" Chong ran out the room, beaming. Before even getting home, Chong was already leafing through the notes, absorbing every word. All too soon, he was standing before the door to the Jeong family home. Over the door hung a plaque bearing the family motto: "Don't let the plans get in the way of the journey."

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It was a large, two story structure. From the front, a seemingly endless expanse of white-flowered apricot-plums could be seen stretching to infinity. The mere sight turned away any unworthy applicants for harvest work, assuring that only the most industrious ever set foot near the orchard. Chong himself actually lived in a small single-room satellite house, which his father had made him build to foster work ethic. Chong walked briskly to his personal home.

He entered, slid the door closed behind him, and changed into his casual clothes. He got comfortable on his bed, and resumed reading the lecture notes. A knock sounded on the door.

"Come in!" Chong called, not looking up from his reading. His father, Jeong Yong-jun, entered.

"Chong? Do you have everything you need for our trip tomorrow?"

"Yes, sir."

"And are you otherwise prepared?"

"Yes. My hair is cut short, as befits a farmer who works in the heat and sun. My face is clean shaven, as befits one who wishes to be taken seriously."

"Excellent. I have one last thing for you." The elder Jeong produced a rolled article of fabric. As he unfurled the roll, it was revealed to be a woman's formal dress. Chong raised an eyebrow in confusion. Yong-jun continued, "I received this from a traveling merchant last year. I think we can sell it for a bit of extra money when we get to Ba Sing Se. However, I want you to be the one who makes the sale. It will be a good experience for you, haggling for the first time, and against the world's finest merchants, no less."

With the dress' significance now in context, Chong gave his father a smile full of appreciation. Yong-jun rolled the dress back up and placed it next to Chong on the bed.

"Will you be taking dinner in here tonight, Chong?" Yong-jun asked. Chong nodded, his attention once more focused on the notes. Chong's father gave a firm, if unnecessary, nod in response, before exiting quietly.

---

The next morning, Chong was awakened by his father, and the two of them ate a light breakfast in the main house before setting out. As they departed, the sun had not yet risen. Yong-jun tethered a pair of ox-camels to their cart, and they were away.

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By the time the sun reached its highest point, Chong and Yong-jun were deep into the desert. Yong-jun drove the cart, while his son sat in the back, reading over his notes in the shade of a large parcel of apricot-plums. Much as he tried to fight it, Yong-jun felt his senses dulling from long hours on the move.

"Chong!" he called to his son, "Would you like to take a break for some water?"

"Sure!" Chong called back.

Yong-jun stopped the cart near a cactus and hopped down. He pulled a water-skin from his belt, and drank from it. Chong made his way to his father's side, drinking from a skin of his own. On the hand holding his water-skin, Chong had pinched the lecture notes between his ring and smallest fingers. From nowhere, a zephyr began to blow softly. Many years later, Chong would refer to this rare desert breeze as "the Winds of Destiny." The small gust blew a page of the notes from Chong's grip, to land at his feet. As he bent to pick it up, another wind came along and blew the sheet of between the two ox-camels, landing just behind one of them. Chong scrambled behind the ox-camel, once more to pick up the paper. Yong-jun looked on with slight concern.

"Hey, Chong, be careful," warned Chong's father. From his kneeling position, Chong couldn't hear his words.

"What was that?!" Chong yelled loudly. The ox-camel suddenly realized that something was behind it, and it shot a hard kick into the side of Chong's head. With a start, Yong-jun dropped his water-skin and rushed to Chong, dragging him out from behind the ox-camel.

"Chong? Chong!" Chong's father shook him vigorously by the shoulder. Chong felt a sensation akin to rattling around inside his own head, and mumbled something. "Hey, Chong," Yong-jun pleaded, "are you there? In school, what did they tell you to do with head injuries?"

In his mind, Chong told his father "Get me in the shade of that cactus, just over there."

What came out was "Get... cactus... jus'..."

"Get cactus juice?" repeated Yong-jun. Chong's neck went slack, and he became unresponsive. "Al-- Alright!" Chong's father rose to his knees and drew a small, sharp-edged survival blade from his back. He quickly sliced a lobe from the cactus, and carried it back to Chong, dripping its juices in his son's mouth.

Chong's chest heaved once, and his eyes opened wide. He looked up at the big sky looking down on him, taking in all its beauty and wonder. Then, as if exhausted from attempting to comprehend its vastness, Chong promptly passed out.

---

When Chong came to, some twelve hours later, darkness blanketed the land, and all was cool. Chong's father had succumbed to sleep, lying in the cart. The ox-camels, too, were resting. For his part, Chong felt fine, and got to his feet. Next to him, the piece of cactus lay in the sand, and Chong deduced what his father had done. Expecting to feel slightly annoyed at his father's ignorance, Chong was surprised to feel only complacency. An easygoing smile crossed his face. Chong picked up his father's blade, which still lay on the ground.

---

At the break of dawn, Jeong Yong-jun rose. Fearing that the worst may have transpired in the night, he was relieved to see Chong not only well, but up and about. Yong-jun clambered out of the cart and walked to his son.

"Chong? Are you feeling well?"

Chong turned to face his father. Yong-jun could feel that something had changed. Yesterday, Yong-jun was just a father traveling with his son. Now, he felt that he was in the presence of an existence far beyond that of a mere seventeen year-old farm boy. He felt now that he was more akin to the "child" role in their relationship.

"I feel pretty good, Dad." Chong said. Gone were the hard eyes and forced smiles of Chong, the student. In their place was a loose, inviting face. "But I'm afraid we'll have to part ways here,"

Yong-jun was shocked. "What? Why?"

Chong clasped his father by the shoulders. "Last night, I saw the wonder of the sky. I felt the world embrace me. The earth is like a mother, and she loves us all. And the only way to return that love is to see as much of the world as I can. I know that now."

"But, what about your schoolwork? And the farm?"

"Jeong Ji-tae can mind the farm. It always seemed unfair to leave him with nothing, anyway. As for school, well... I've spent my whole life learning in school and just accepting everything I was taught as truth. But this whole thing with the cactus juice has made me understand. The earth is my teacher, and the only way to know if something is true is to try it."

Yong-jun looked at his son, thinking over what had just been said. "I thought you just said the earth was a mother? Now it's a teacher?"

"Dad, you're missing the big picture here." Chong swept his hand across the horizon, looking off into the distance and indicating the "big picture" as his father followed his gaze. For a while, they stood like this, neither saying anything. Yong-jun broke the silence.

"Go on?"

Chong clapped his hands. "Hey, good idea!" he declared as he began walking away.

Yong-jun smacked his forehead. "Wait, that's not what I meant!" he shouted after Chong. Out of the corner of his eye, Yong-jun noticed something on his shoulder. He reached up and swiped at it, then held a finger in front of his face. It was dabbed with blood. "Hey, Chong! Are you bleeding?"

Chong stopped and looked at his hands. He promptly turned and returned to his father.

"Uh, yeah, I guess I am."

"How did that happen?"

"Well, after I woke up, I spent the rest of the night filling my water-skin with cactus juice, picking cactus fruit, and collecting cactus seeds. I figured, since the cactus helped me to learn what's really important, I should take some of it with me, in case I forget. Plus, I found these weird things that look like buttons!" Chong held out the various cactus bits he had collected in his satchel. Yong-jun let out a small chuckle, content that his son was finding his own path in life.

Yong-jun said, "Wait here," and jogged over to the cart. He pulled out the fine dress he had gifted to Chong before their trip. "Your hands have blood on them, right?" Chong nodded. Yong-jun tossed the dress to Chong. "Wipe it on your dress, then send it to me." His words were met with a look of sincere confusion. His father explained, "When you get somewhere with delivery service, send the dress back, so I'll know you made it out of the desert in one piece." They stood in silence for a while. Yong-jun felt the need to impart one final insight to his son. "You know, our family name, Jeong... It can mean a few different things. One of those meanings is 'plan' or 'agenda,' but read it another way, and it's 'journey' or 'trip.' Looking at it like that, whether you have an agenda in life or just go on this endless trip of yours, you'll be living up to the family name. So, I don't want you to feel pressured either way."

Chong bobbed his head in casual understanding. He wiped the blood off his hands, then waved a final farewell to his father, who called after him "Just don't let the plans get in the way of the journey!"

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And so, with the seeds of his father's wisdom planted to guide him in his new life, Chong set out on the beginning of the long and epic journey which would shape him into the man we revere to this day.