Sacred Flames
by
Jasmine Cherry
Cold winds howled across the polar plain, as the first rays of daybreak crested over the horizon. Every village across the south pole had posted numerous sentries in anticipation of this day – the first rays of sun after the Long Dark – and within moments their cries echoed alongside the howling arctic winds, a clamor that roused the Sun Children from sleep and labor. Everyone, from the youngest babes to the most withered grandmother, braved the ice and darkness for a glimpse of the life-giving glow of Agni, the Sun-Spirit, their mother and teacher.
Nearly the first among them to emerge was young Katara, eyes baggy from troubled sleep and sweating from long hours practicing the many forms with which her people summoned the Burning Gift. Exhaustion seemed to melt right out of her, though, as she caught a face-full of the dim, almost shy rays of the nearly-risen sun, and she sighed happily. Soon the days would grow longer and longer, peaking during the Endless Day of high summer, when the sacred fire burned its hottest and brightest.
"Beautiful, isn't it?"
Katara started for a moment, and relaxed only when she realized it was just her grandmother Kanna, sneaking up behind her like some silent polar cat.
"Yes, yes it is, gran-gran. It looks...feels unbelievable, after all that time in the dark."
The older woman merely nodded, watching the sunrise with undisguised pleasure.
"The tribe will be expecting a speech, you know. Are you sure you have all the words memorized?" Kanna asked, glancing side-long at her grandchild, who flushed with embarrassment at the question.
"Of course I do, gran-gran! I know how important today is..." she said with a little huff of displeasure.
Kanna did not respond right away, at least not out loud; a few moments passed, and she nodded, gesturing to the longhouse at the center of the village. "Then you should get ready. You'll want to make sure you start before the sun hides itself away completely. We have the daylight back, but blessed little of it for a long while yet."
Katara knew that just as well as she did, but she bit back her retort; she didn't need constant reminders like that. She was a woman of the tribe now – her first blood coming during the Long Dark – and a Hearth-warden, blessed with the Burning Gift of Agni. She could handle the Welcoming just fine!
...Hopefully.
Preparing for the rite was, Katara decided, far more tedious than the ceremony itself promised to be. It was fortunate that she was the sort to plan ahead; clothing was already laid out for the Welcoming, and all that was required of her was to submit to the matrons for the traditional painting; the right side of her face was painted black, symbolizing the Long Dark of the winter months, and her left was painted white, the light of Agni and the Endless Day of the polar summer. Patterns in matching colors went down both arms, in waves and whorls of monochrome that brought to mind the flickering of a campfire's flame. It didn't take exceptionally long to put on, but she was impatient to begin; today was an important day, the first time the Welcoming had been performed in almost sixty years.
Agni's mercy came soon enough, as the elders pronounced her ready for the ceremony; she thanked them, and bowed stiffly. She all but ran off in her hurry, bringing soft chuckles to the old women's mouths at her eager departure.
"Kids these days, no patience.", one of them chided, and she answered by her sister's creaking laughter.
Katara took in a deep breath as she strode, bold as daybreak, onto the high platform at the front of the long-hall. The tribe watched her with undisguised anticipation; from the young babes barely old enough to understand that something special was about to happen, to the gnarled, withered elders who dimly remembered the last Welcoming, all those decades ago. She felt a slight pang when her eyes glanced over the front few seats; her father should be there, and her mother, but at least Gran-gran was here, and Sokka beside her, looking rather silly in his wolf-warrior paint. She appreciated that detail, ridiculous as it looked on his too-young face; it wouldn't be right if there wasn't a warrior in the crowd.
Torches lined the outer walls of the icy hall, and as she raised her hands, the flames began to dim, casting shadows across the gathered tribesmen.
"We are the Flame Tribe. We are the daughters and sons of bright Agni, who is the sun; she who is the Daystar, the Mother, the Teacher; she lights the way and kindles the ember of life in our spirits."
Hands waved through in a delicate pattern as she spoke, bringing the torches down to near-embers as she spoke, leaving the hall almost blackened.
"We dwell in the lands of ice and darkness, for we are strong. It is our burden to endure those places where Agni is both ever-present and ever-absent; long nights and endless days, two halves of a whole, as the fire both gives and takes life."
A gesture; flames rose, pale as frost-rimed ghosts in the night, timid and shy, but valiantly struggling against the final extinguishing.
"By Agni's grace we have the Burning Gift, that we might summon flame and spark to shield us from the chill!"
Hands moved in wide, encompassing waves; a heat shimmer erupted from the torches, bathing the watchers in gentle warmth.
"By Her love we are given the Burning Gift, that we might hold the light of the sun in our hands, to sear away the endless dark!"
Voice grew stronger with that last exclamation, the torches flickering back to life; swiftly they rose, from pale ghosts of flame to strong and crackling fires, bright and hot. A bead of sweat dripped down her brow, and her breath was a little hitched; she was strong but as yet not truly skilled, and the precision of the ceremony taxed her. Still, she couldn't very well let them see her flounder; she forced a wide smile on her features, and held her arms out wide, as if to embrace the whole tribe.
"We are the Sun Children, and from out blood are born the makers of flame, the wardens of home and hearth. By fire and flame, we are nourished, but it was not always so."
Hands slid together, making a cupping gesture in front of her. Katara noted that as she did so, many of the elders leaned forward with sudden interest, Kanna included; she rather hoped they wouldn't judge her performance too harshly.
"And now I will tell you the oldest tale; the first story told by the Sun Children." Katara said, her words soft and reverent.
"Long ago, before people lived on the world; before the sun and moon and stars lit the sky; before the sky, the waters, and even the earth, there were the spirits."
Arms stretched out skyward, and above the crowd, wisps of prismatic flame popped in and out of existence. A rainbow of fiery lights danced across the icy hall, weaving a lazy figure-eight above them. It wasn't, precisely, the proper pattern, but it was the best she could manage – and thankfully, no one who knew better spoke up to spoil the fragile tranquility of the sight.
"The spirits, for a time, were content to simply be, happy and heedless. But four spirits began to grow restless, to yearn for something more than the unchanging Spirit World."
Soft emerald flames appeared in her cupped hands, as bright and ethereal as the green flash of sunset.
"Earth came first; the spirit Chikyuu brought forth the land, giving birth to soil and stone. She bound herself to mortal form and with her sacrifice came the mortal world. But it was not yet complete; the land was still, and dead, and nothing lived upon it."
Another flame joined the first; pale blue, entwining around the first to embrace it like a lover.
"Water followed; in the crags and cervices of Chikyuu's flesh, Mighty La and Merciful Tui flowed, bringing forth sea and shore. But it was not yet complete; the sea did not move, no waves crashed against sandy shores, no rivers babbled and flowed, no fish swam the great currents."
There was a tiny amount of grumbling there; even mentioning the spirits of water made a few tribesmen uncomfortable. Not that Katara could blame them; the waterbending raiders of the Sapphire Isles had not been kind to them in their long and hateful war. Still, she wouldn't let anything spoil the ceremony; a third wisp of flame, smoky and gray, curled around the first two.
"Third was Air; Oya who is the great wind, the warrior, the maker of storms and the bringer of thunder, brought forth the sky and the air, blanketing the world. But even still, it was not yet complete; the winds did not howl, the breeze did not blow, and no birds flew across the endless sky."
A fourth flame, and summoning another fire to join the first few taxed her deeply; keeping the flames entwined but unmixed was challenging to a young bender at her level of training. This last flame was an ocher orange; it was supposed to be golden, but she didn't quite manage it. And it didn't seem to spoil the good mood of the crowd – they were enraptured, watching the flames dance in her hands.
"And last, came Agni; the Fire-Mother, the enkindler of souls, the bringer of light and life. She bent her flame to the Earth, and stirred the great fires that burn deep below the stone; She bent her flame across the waters, and stirred the mighty currents to life. She bent her flames across the sky, and sent the winds soaring across the world."
Katara raised her hands up high, and flicked them out, casting the rainbow flames over the crowd, letting them harmlessly expire in the air.
"Her work complete, Agni fixed herself in the sky, and bound her essence in mortal form, as the other Great Spirits did. She made life – all life – and bound her fire into flesh, giving mortal men and women forms and souls. She made them from all the elements; strong earth, to give them form; swift water, to make them move; the breath of life, to give them freedom; and fiery spirits, to give them purpose."
Silence. She had them now, all the tribe spellbound and focused on her voice. She drew in a deep breath, centering herself, willing her qi to the surface for the finale.
"And so for her labors we Welcome her; we give thanks to Bright Agni above, she whom lights the way, and kindles our spirits!"
The last word turned into a fiery exclamation, as Katara whipped her fist out in a sharp, staccato strike, launching a spear of blazing crimson at the spartan effigy behind her; the bone-and-hide symbol of Agni burst into flames, burning with hot ruby light as her fire consumed it.
"To Agni, who gave us the gift of her flames, we offer our fire to you, in recognition of your grace and mercy."
She bowed as she spoke, and from the shuffling behind her, she knew the rest of the tribe was doing the same. She remained that way for a moment, and rose – and it was done. The Welcoming was complete.
After the ceremony, she found herself trembling slightly, exhausted from the demanding firebending. Precision was still the major weakness in her bending, and the Welcoming demanded utmost care from its performer. Still, she was happy; the tribe had spent long moments cheerfully discussing the performance amongst themselves, her fellow Sun Children in awe of the long-absent rite and enraptured by her skill.
She watched, in silence, as they came to the effigy, each lighting a torch off of the flames. The fires of the effigy of Agni were sacred, and each household was to bring back the holy flames and light their hearths from the spiritual blaze; she herself had pulled a small whisp of flame from the burning symbol, cradling it in her hands, to ignite the roasting fire for the great feast. It had been a long time indeed since anyone had been able to do so, and for the first time in months, Katara felt at peace in her polar home.
Said peace was shattered a few moments later, by a boyish hand clasping her shoulder, shaking her out of her reverie.
"Hey sis, that was amazing!" Sokka exclaimed, grinning madly in his wolf-warrior paint.
"I mean there was whole bunch of goofy spirit mumbo-jumbo-" Katara grinned thinly, restraining her temper, "-but you made the Southern Lights and all that colored fire and then BOOM, lit the whole place up, it was awesome!"
Katara allowed herself a tiny sigh; trust Sokka to be more interested in the flames and explosions and pretty lights, than in the lessons taught. He was such a boy at times. Still...she supposed she could appreciate the compliment in the spirit it was meant.
"Thanks, Sokka. And, hey, shouldn't you be helping Gran-gran? I thought you were supposed to help her butcher the seal-shark for the feast?" she asked, arched a brow at her older brother.
"Yeah yeah Katara, I was going to get to that! I just wanted to talk to you first. See ya at the feast!" he called, turning sharply to march out to the butchering pit.
Katara fought – and gave in – to the urge to roll her eyes at her brother. She loved him dearly, but by Agni, he could be such a goof at times. Slowly she wandered out of the hall to follow him, her stomach rumbling at the thought of succulent, roasted seal-shark flesh and stewed sea prunes.
As it turned out, the feasting tables held not only roast seal-shark and stewed sea prunes, but also succulent squobster and boiled cuttleshrimps, shelled and wrapped in crisp bands of fresh seaweed. The meal-hall was filled with the mingled aromas of the simple yet filling foodstuffs, along with the scent of warm prunejack being mulled by the elderly vintner.
As the acting (and only) Hearth-warden of the village, Katara was seated at a place of honor at the feasting table, at the right hand of the Cheif's seat – which was eerily empty today. It was another unhappy reminder of just how far the Southern Tribe had fallen; the first Welcoming of the Sun in sixty years, and no Cheif to preside over the great feast.
Sokka at her side, and Kanna across from her, with other elders taking seats in a cluster around them. Bowls and platters of polar delicacies passed from one end to the other, the rich smells of fine food and the rumble of soft chatter mixing with the glimmer of the torches to create a soft, relaxing atmosphere, the feeling of home. There was an animation to the people that Katara hadn't seen in years, and she hoped to never see it leave her people again. A soft nudge from the side distracted her from her thoughts, and she turned to glance at Sokka.
"This was a pretty good day, sis."
She smiled at him. "Yeah...yeah, I suppose it was, Sokka." she said, and watched the last flicker of sunlight disappear from the sky.