Pema looked out the window of the airship window and once again had to face the terrible, wonderful reality that she was soaring into the unknown. Nothing of her life up to that point had been uncomfortable or unfamiliar, and yet there she was on this flight towards a life she had chosen for herself. She thought she would be sick at this altitude or that the fear of leaving home would overwhelm her. Yet, as her airship passed over the Earth Kingdom, unveiling new land, new towns, new everything, Pema's fingers held fast to the stiff seat she'd chosen. They were still hours from Republic City even though she'd been traveling since dawn; the distance between the new metropolis and her hometown in the south was more than she could have imagined from the maps she'd sought out.
Still only this far, and she was already overwhelmed by the sheer size of the world, of all the things she had never known. And now she was going to give it up?
For the first time since she had declared her intention to become an Air Acolyte under the direction of Avatar Aang and his son, Master Tenzin, Pema understood why everyone called her choice a sacrifice. This is what she was surrendering by accepting seclusion: the sun setting over—she squinted, trying to identify the place on the map they were sailing above—Foggy Swamp. Birds flying into the rising night, the sky open and untamed. No factory smoke. No pushing crowds. No disappointed mother.
Though she had no serious intention of backing out, fear pricked at the soft shell of wonder cocooning her thoughts. Was this where she was meant to be? Had she made a horrible mistake? The scenery outside, the mass of tangled wildness unfolding for miles, gave no reply.
She was not the only one that had noticed the swamp the airship was skirting. Voices rose around her.
"I heard the trees eat people!"
"I heard that there's benders in there. Bad kinds, like body benders."
"You heard wrong! Everyone knows no one lives in the swamp."
"Well, I think we'd be better off without it. Ozai would have done us a favor if he'd torched the place. It's no use to us like this and we'd have acres of planting land."
Pema tried to calm herself, she really did, but her anger had a mind of its own. "Don't you dare say that," she said to the last speaker, voice wavering despite herself. "Look at all that life! The animals, the trees… It's beautiful!"
"Oh yeah? Beautiful doesn't make it less dangerous!"
"It's only dangerous if you're afraid," she huffed back. But to everyone else she had lost the argument and in angry silence she stalked away, leaving the other passengers to their superstitious gossip.
Pema's temper, legendary among her family, was something she hoped would be cured by the Air Acolyte lifestyle. It didn't emerge often, but when it did it left her fuming like a volcano. Sometimes the destruction she left behind was as bad.
She moved with the unsettling sway of the airship, drawing near to a window pane placed in the floor where passengers could get a better look at the ground below. A child sat on his knees, studying the disappearing earth and she gave him a small smile before kneeling across the window to study the edge of the gold-lit swamp. In reality, she knew very little about the swamp and any people who may or may not live in it. It was beautiful, though, and it seemed like a sleeping giant who was warm and kind albeit a tad grumpy when disturbed without reason. She watched of swamp-water far below catch the light of the sun, flashing like the scales of a fish. Even over the sound of the engine's steady hum she could hear some of the swamp birds calling to each other, as though they were calling their families home for the evening meal.
Suddenly, something larger and more colorful than any bird she had ever seen rose above the treetops. Her pulse raced before her mind could register just what the strange shape was. Pema leaned closer to the window. Her eyes focused, and she gasped.
It was a man.
And he was flying.
She could tell he was tall and saw a blue tattoo stretching from his forehead over his bare head. He hovered, then rose, reaching out a hand. Too far away to see his features, she touched the cold glass and as the airship sailed away the figure turned his head to follow her, a tattooed hand reaching out after the ship. Though it was impossible for her to hear what he said, she heard a deep, ringing voice call out, "Pema!"
Gasping, she pushed herself away from the window. The boy looked at her funny.
"Did you see that?" she asked, surprised by how out-of-breath she sounded.
"See what?"
"That man above the swamp! I think it was the Avatar!"
"The Avatar! Whoa!" The boy stuck his nose to the window. "I don't see nothin'. Lady, are you crazy?"
"No, I'm Pema," she joked, trying to shake the strange feeling the man had given her.
The boy gave her another look, then smiled as her weak joke dawned on him.
"I like you," he said. "The name's Meelo." He stuck out his hand.
"I'm Pema," she answered and they shook. Meelo looked to be about eight or nine and he smelled of peanut paste and general mischief.
"I should tell you now, that I'm famous," he boasted.
"Is that so?"
"Yeah. Or, at least, I'm going to be, so remember my name! When me and my family get to Republic City we're going to be rich. I'll get my own Sato-mobile and all the ladies will love me."
"I'm sure they already do, Meelo," said Pema, putting a serious mask over her smile.
"You bet they do! So why are you going to the city?"
"I'm going to be an Air Acolyte."
"What's that?"
Her face grew warm with enthusiasm as she began. "More than a hundred years ago the Fire Nation destroyed the Air Nation. Their songs, their art, their ideas—gone. But, one very important Air Nation boy lived—"
"Ooo! I know that! It's Aang!"
"Yes, that's right. Avatar Aang survived and now it's his duty to share the Air culture with people who care about preserving it. It's a big task, but I guess it's as close to being important as I'll ever be. He's a very brave man for being the last of his kind."
Meelo scoffed, "Singing songs isn't brave, that's lame stuff. The Avatar should be fighting and punching and kicking butt!"
"How would you feel if there were no more Earth people? Just you alone, in the entire world?"
If it was possible, Meelo's eyes got even wider and he scooched closer to Pema who continued. "Exactly. Even though the Avatar has his son to help him, it's still a lot of work."
"Does this mean you'll learn how to be an airbender?"
"No, I wish! I've always wanted to be one. Except when I was a bit younger than you—I was always Zuko when my friends and I played Team Avatar."
"That's who I like to be!" he yelled and hopped up to pantomime some rather...vigorous and creative bending moves which he narrated. "And then I'd surround the bad guys in a ring of fire I like to call The Donut of Doom!"
"Ah, the old Donut of Doom," said a woman's voice from behind Pema.
Meelo spoke between puffs of air, exhausted from his glorious battle, small fists on his hips. "Oh, hi, Mom. I was just showing Pema what an awesome firebender I'd be."
Pema stood and smiled at the boy's mother. "Meelo has an incredible imagination."
"It's certainly entertaining, I'll give you that," the woman said with a weary laugh. "Thank you for watching my son. We have a newborn who's not too fond of flying and we didn't think this one could get too far—"
The boy interrupted with an eager shout. "Mom! Pema! Look!"
Meelo stood, framed by the lights of Republic City glowing warm and bright in the now-dark sky. Pema put her hand to her heart. She didn't want to start her new life with tears but after all her saving for the trip and her preparations—everything she had done to get to this point mattered. And soon, even if it was in a small way, she would matter, too.
"Lin! Do you honestly want to spend our one free night together chasing thugs? Let your officers handle this. They're well-trained and capable—thanks to you." He ran his fingers through her dark hair, letting them slide down her jaw, along the bottom of her scars, finally resting under her chin. "I miss seeing you outside of council meetings."
She sighed and turned away to search for something in the mountain of paperwork on her desk. "I don't have the luxury of free time. I don't get to just breeze along and meditate all day like you. How would it look if the chief of police was out on a date the night of one of the largest raids in City history? I need to be there, taking action."
"Surely you don't think that's all I do!" Tenzin felt the stiffness in his shoulders return, as it had started to do recently when speaking to Lin.
She fiddled with more papers, back still to him, speaking absently. "I don't know. Maybe you mix things up by reading an old manuscript about taking care of air-bison fleas. I promise we'll have dinner together soon. But, for now, just let me and my officers do our work and help this city."
He felt as though he had been gutted. "I'm going back to the island. I see I'm wasting my time when I should be meditating on bison-fleas."
He strode out of Lin's office, wincing as the large metal door slammed behind him. The police officers focused too intently on their desks as he walked past. Alone.
As he had gotten so used to doing, he maintained a severe, detached expression. Eyes ahead, he walked with purpose, though he wasn't sure what to do with all the free time he hadn't planned on having.
After a decade and a half together, he knew her tendency to speak harshly out of distraction—with a mother like Toph it was easy to see why sensitivity wasn't one of Lin's strongest qualities. Still, having the woman he loved throw his impotence back in his face stung worse than the sunburn he had gotten one their vacation to Ember Island years ago. Then, when they were both new to love, he had viewed her stubbornness as strength and her forcefulness as courage. Now, he saw them as weapons, too. And knew their bite.
Outside the station, he paused to put on a hat, slid on gloves, and checked the high collar of his shirt. Spirits help him the day collars become unfashionable—he was remarkable in a crowd without the tattoos of his masterhood with his height and angular face, but with the blue arrows exposed he was literally a marked man. Only by wearing a disguise did he have a hope of spending time in the City without threats or requests for pictures.
He set off, tweaking his hat even lower. The air was warm for spring and thick with the bustle of Republic City with its riot of colors and noise. At times, such furor stunned him, especially in contrast to the reserved life he led on Air Temple Island. Yet, despite the excitement of the night, Tenzin's disappointment made him separate. He paced down the block, following the curve of the bay, away from the direction of their favorite restaurant where he had reserved a table a week ago for tonight. He was hungry, but what was the point of eating alone? Besides, the press would have too much to say on it. They always had too much to say.
So, Tenzin stalked to the Republic City franchise of the Jasmine Dragon, old Iroh's tea shop from Ba Sing Se. Though the tea wasn't as good as in the original, the atmosphere possessed the impassive calm he craved in moments like these. On Air Temple Island, acolytes and his father teemed for his attention. In the tea shop, though, the owner kept a special table just for him and stayed open late on nights like this when things were not going well with Lin.
"Good evening, Jin," he called to the old woman picking up cups from a table inside.
"Ah, a lemon energy tea for you tonight?"
"No thank you, energy is the last thing I need. Something to help me sleep. Please." He slid into his usual table, tucked away where he would be less conspicuous. Surprisingly, the tea shop wasn't empty: a group sat leaning in together. He hadn't seen them before and made note of their faces and checked for any signs of trouble. It was instinct now, for him to gauge the room for threats—instinct formed from unfortunate experience. One turned around: a woman with heavy make-up who eyed his size for a long moment then turned away.
Jin bustled in from the back of the shop. "Here you are! Chamomile and honey, with just a hint of lavender. And don't forget your cookie!" He smiled and thanked her, then turned to the Iroh-cookie as she returned to the kitchen. He had practically grown up on the sweet cakes, which were no different from regular sweet cakes except for the pieces of paper baked inside. Every paper had a quote from the old man whose wisdom was legendary, even now, though Tenzin suspected the quotes were made up these days.
He broke the cake and read, "Protection and power are overrated. I think you are very wise to choose happiness and love." Great, even his cookie was being exasperating.
It wasn't his fault he was the only Airbender who could act as a representative on the Council! It wasn't his fault that every year he tried to convince Lin to marry him and start a family, she'd laughed him right out of the room! It wasn't his fault. But he carried the guilt anyway.
"Hey there, handsome!" said the woman from the bunch in the corner as she walked towards him on her own. Her hair looked greasy and her make-up slung across her face as though done by a child. She leaned on the table and looked down her splotchy nose at him.
"Can I help you, ma'am?"
"Yeah, I wanna know where you got those muscles. Good craftsmanship is hard to find in this city." She jutted her hip out even farther at what had to be an uncomfortable angle. "After all," she continued, "the body should be a work of art."
"Um-I'm going to have to ask you to-" The men in the corner were gone and Jin's scream came from the back. Tenzin saw the woman reach back to throw a punch at him, saw her fist grow red as she found her fire, and he sent a whirlwind at her that carried her through the doors, across the road, and into the bay.
Jumping to his feet, he ran to the back and blew all three men against the wood wall—soft enough to just incapacitate them but hard enough for them to hopefully rethink their lives later on in jail.
"Are you alright?" Tenzin asked Jin who waved him away, coughing gently.
"Oh I'm fine! You just take those ruffians away. You're welcome back anytime, Tenzin dear. Tea's on me!"
He bowed to her, then swept up the men in an air ball and walked them out the door and down the street, only pausing to scoop up the woman too as she climbed, soaking, out of the water.
His prisoners made a satisfying thud as he dropped them on the floor of the police station. "Radio Chief Beifong and lockup this trash for attempted robbery," he commanded, feeling better now that he'd let off some steam. That would show Lin that he wasn't soft!
A call came over the system and an officer yelled out, "Hey everybody! The chief and her team caught twenty members of the Triad gang, plus their stash of goods!" Cheers rang out all around. Tenzin glared at the four thieves still lying dazed on the floor.
"Sir," said a lieutenant, "do you want me to radio Chief Beifong for you?"
"No, I wouldn't want to bother Republic City's great hero."
As he flew back to the island on Oogi a few minutes later after changing once more into his nomad robes, the tension from speaking with Lin earlier had returned to his shoulders and head, and he wasn't sure if it would go away this time.