Disclaimer: Avatar © Nickelodeon, Mike DiMartino, and Brian Konietzko. I own this work of fanfiction.

Author's Notes: Since I'm such a Sokka addict, I thought I would write something that didn't involve him for once. Well, as you can see, that DID NOT happen. I mean seriously, I CANNOT write a story without him in it. However, it is supposed to focus more on the other four members of the Gaang instead of just him. I hope I did a good enough job since Sokka's like, the only character I can write at least somewhat correctly. (sweatdrop) Read, review, and enjoy please. (:

Rudimentary Elements

Because it all seemed so simple and easy when they did it.

Air was genuine and free-flowing.

It was the embodiment of freedom, love, and self-expression. Many Air Nomads were also artists, musicians, dancers, and thinkers.

It moved and swayed and twisted and writhed, always taking time to play and be funny. It easily brushed across the landscape, painting multicolored pictures of green and amber and azure hues with its long fingers, all the while laughing softly into the ears of the Earth.

It giggled and danced and played, always loving, never hurting, never leaving, forever accepting.

Air was genuine.

Aang sighed and flopped down on the crumbling stone railings of one of the Air Temple's many balconies. He deftly maneuvered his fingers in and around each other, his Airbending keeping a small pebble afloat in the air as if by magic. A cat-sized monkey with large ears and abnormal markings jumped around, trying to snatch the lovely prize out of his master's invisible grip. "I don't get it, Momo," he murmured.

The lemur paused for a moment to perch on a rock protruding from one of the pillars and gazed at the young Avatar curiously. He cocked his head and blinked his large yellow-green eyes.

"Don't look at me like that, buddy," Aang said, dropping the pebble to the ground. "You know what I mean." He flipped over onto his stomach and lay his head on his crossed arms. He looked sideways at the canyon surrounding the Western Air Temple. "About… well, everything." The young monk scratched his arrow. "It's all very complicated, Momo. Katara, Sozin's Comet, Firebending, saving the world from being completely obliterated…" The lemur simply chittered something incomprehensible and curled up on top of Aang's back.

The Airbender chuckled, slightly jostling Momo from his bed. "Sometimes I wish I were like you, buddy. Simple… carefree… not worrying about the entire world's problems… or the safety of everyone in the remaining three nations." He rested his chin on his arms and stared at the stone pillar in front of him for a moment.

An explosion rocked him out of his reverie. In a moment, he shot to his feet and reached for his staff, only to realize he had lost it back in the Sun Warriors' temple. Aang muttered something very inappropriate for a 12-year-old Avatar and rushed forward to the middle of the large open space surrounding the balcony.

Thick black smoke poured from a little alcove off the side of the main room where Aang was. There were a few shouts and cries from inside before Sokka came rushing out, hacking and coughing his lungs out. Teo followed shortly afterwards, wheeling after his friend and stopping behind him.

Sokka gasped, resting his hands on his knees, and said, "We're OK! Just a little… uh, mishap with some of our explosives."

Teo scraped some black soot off of his face and removed his goggles. Light colored rings surrounded his eyes, and Aang had to hold back a laugh. "Yeah," Teo said. "No big deal, just some accidental set-offs." He turned to Sokka. "Once we get this stuff figured out, I think we're going to have some awesome arsenals on our hands." His tanned friend nodded enthusiastically.

The two inventors made their way back into the smoke as it slowly dissipated. Before they were out of earshot, Aang heard Sokka say, "Jeez, Teo, you need a bath. Your face looks like a raccoon-otter!" Their laughter echoed down the long hallways.

Aang chuckled and propelled himself back onto the large railing using Airbending. He squatted down and rested his back against the cool pillar of the Temple. For so long, the hallways of the Eastern and Western Air Temples had been so void of their original owners—the laughing voices and teasing, the chittering gossip of the old nuns. Whereas the Northern and Southern Temples were full of men and sports and philosophy, the Western and Eastern were filled to the brim with chittering old women and the giggles of female nuns. Rarely did the two ever meet.

But now, everything was so… wonderfully alive. Aang doubted the Western Air Temple had much life in it after Sozin's attack, but now there was the laughter and joking and teasing of just… a bunch of kids. He could tell the Temple and the nature surrounding it were happy they were here.

Aang jumped up suddenly in true Airbender fashion and propelled himself into the air. He climbed easily and nimbly up the rough-hewn sides of the upside-down dojos, pausing only for a moment on a small balcony or flower box.

The young Avatar quickly made his way up to the very top layer of the building—that is, the level closest to the ceiling of the large cavern. He turned around and took in the wonderful view: the jagged canyon, the beautiful yet crumbling architecture of a people almost gone, and especially the mystic, almost mysterious moisture clinging to the sides of the canyon. On a cloudy, cool day like today, the mist had inched its way up the rough sides of the canyon walls and had completely consumed the base of the temple, winding its way up many pillars like a serpent and covering the base of everything in a surreal shroud.

Aang took a deep breath in, taking a moment to close his gray eyes. Now would be a good time to practice his Airbending.

He practiced Firebending with Zuko most of the time, since it was the newest to him, and then occasionally after that would he practice Earthbending with Toph. Rarely would he practice with water, and even more rarely would he perform with his native element air. It felt good to just clear his lungs for a few moments and be able to dodge and fly and run away as much as he wanted to. Even though he was a master Airbender (the tattoos across his slim shoulders, forearms, legs, and forehead told him so), he still needed to stop and practice every once in a while.

Aang feared he could be getting a bit rusty, even though bending the air around him was as natural to him as breathing. So he decided to rest, breathe, and Airbend.

He took a stance and began.

Water was smooth and caressing.

It was, at times, fierce and passionate, but it always found a way to wrap its loved ones in a caring embrace. Waterbenders were healers, friends, lovers, nursemaids, and planners. The Mother to all people.

It rocked gently and touched and embraced, gently singing soft lullabies to its people before turning around and protecting them with a ferocious vengeance. Its warriors were fiercely loyal to their homeland, while its benders rocked and swayed through smooth, swift motions, all the while connecting with their element—the Mother Water.

It ebbed and flowed and swirled, chuckling at its own naiveté, yet still finding time to laugh and romp and play with its friend the Air. It always changed, always enjoyed, never remained the same, always did its best to protect.

Water was smooth.

Katara ran slim fingers through her dark hair, humming a tune to herself as she stirred a pot of water. Her free hand twisted at the wrist, turning in circular motions just above the lip of the pot. The liquid inside obeyed her and followed her movements in a show of swirling submission. She grabbed a few vegetables and some small chunks of meat from a bag sitting next to her before returning to the water.

She frowned, perfect lips turning downward in dissatisfaction. The water wasn't anywhere near boiling yet. Katara groaned something incomprehensible and sat back from the large kettle over the fire. Murmuring again, she combed her cascading curls with a tanned hand and stood up.

The Waterbender looked around, placing her hands on her hips as her Arctic gaze swept the small eating area for her fellow companions. Cocking her hips in a most feminine way, she said loudly, "Aang! Zuko! I need one of you to get over here and help me with dinner!"

When neither Firebender answered her call, she groaned in frustration and rolled her eyes skyward. "I swear, when I get my hands on those two… Aang! Zuko!" She shouted again, louder this time.

She growled menacingly. "Well, if they want to play that game—" Katara's tirade was interrupted by a large boom! which erupted from behind her and shook the whole Temple from its base.

"Holy—!" Katara placed a hand over her heart and felt a shockwave of vibrations course through it. She whirled around and ran through the hallway, taking a few twisting turns before arriving in a large domed area. The dome had a huge hole carved in the top, and thick black smoke was erupting through the opening and also through another larger hallway off to her right. She followed the smoke down to a small patch of stone and a pile of explosives on the ground in front of her.

Her dear brother's handiwork. Katara grunted disapprovingly and rushed through the smoke-clogged hallway to find the culprits for her near-heart attack.

Following the laughter and a few childish jibes (which could only belong to Sokka), she found the two standing calmly in the smoky hallway, laughing at some lame joke one of them had cracked. Both of them were covered in soot, and Teo had pale rings around his eyes where, Katara assumed, his goggles had been. Toph stood next to them, chuckling lightly. How she got there, the Waterbender would never know.

Part of her was relieved they were all alive and uninjured, but another and much larger part of her was furious. "Just what do you two think you're doing?" she trilled angrily. "You could've killed somebody!"

Teo grinned while Sokka stretched lazily. "Chillax, sis," he said smoothly. "It was just a misfire. Everything's fine."

"Yeah," the disabled boy piped. "We just had a little accident, that's all. Nobody got hurt, and we swear once we figure out how to handle this stuff, it won't happen again."

Katara sized them up, then frowned and shook her head disapprovingly. "OK… see that it doesn't. I just don't want to see anyone hurt, especially you guys." She looked at them, and the boys shifted uncomfortably under her gaze. "We need you… all of you… to survive and defeat the Fire Lord. Stop being stupid—especially you, Sokka." At her accusation, the Water Tribesman held up his hands in an "I-didn't-do-it" pose.

"Hey, no need to worry, 'Tara. No more stupidity, I swear. Warrior's honor." He held his hand mock-seriously over his heart. Teo did the same.

Toph laughed mockingly. "Good luck with that."

The boys shot her a withering glare, which erupted into a good-natured spat among the three. Katara simply shook her head and made her way back through the hallways toward her pot of water.

When the Waterbender entered her small cooking area, she cursed loudly. The small, sputtering fire that she had attempted to start herself had completely gone out in her absence. The water was vaguely warm, but not nearly hot enough for her to continue preparing lunch. She balled up her fingers into fists and flung them around in a most frustrated manner.

Groaning and speaking angrily under her breath, Katara gathered up the meat and vegetables she had gotten out and placed them back in the bag.

She took a breath and decided to go on a walk, maybe to the top of one of the upside-down buildings, and take a few moments to Waterbend. Yeah, that sounded good.

Katara worked her way up the large spiral staircase in the center of the building, humming softly to herself once again. By the time she reached the top, she felt fairly calm and level-headed enough to Waterbend. She pulled a little moisture from the air around her and twirled it between her fingers, marveling at the way the water smoothly coated her tanned skin in a layer of cool moisture.

She played with her little droplet, gazing at it and totally engrossing herself in it as she walked across the level of the temple. A few breaths and soft whooshing noise stopped her in her tracks.

The Waterbender looked up and noticed Aang practicing a few of his more basic Airbending techniques. She was awestruck. Every time she saw him bend, she was amazed at how wonderfully easy and natural everything was for him. Even now as he danced and enjoyed himself in his simplest form—his most elementary poses and strikes and blocks and evasions—she couldn't help but feel her heart beat a little faster.

"Aang," she said softly, without meaning to. He stopped immediately and looked at her, a thousand questions written all over his face. Katara felt her face flush. "Uh… sorry. I didn't mean to… interrupt."

The Avatar dropped his stance and walked to stand in front of her. "It's OK," he said amiably. "It was just a little Airbending practice." He smiled at her, but then his face turned a little pink, and he looked at the ground. Katara knew he had something to ask but was either too embarrassed or too ashamed to say it out loud.

"What?" she prodded.

"Well…" he looked up from staring at her shoes. "Now that you're here, perhaps we could practice… some Waterbending?"

Katara grinned and nodded enthusiastically. "Of course." She bended some water out of her water skins and held it before her. "Now, Pupil Aang," she said somewhat jokingly, "let us begin."

Earth was simple and stable.

It was the very definition of strong, unbreakable, and tough. Both Earthbenders and regular members of the Earth Kingdom were very simple-minded, rough-and-tumble people. While they varied greatly from gentle and loving like Water to fierce and determined like Fire, they were all steady yet stubborn, somewhat pig-headed in their ways. Members of the Earth Kingdom were level-headed thinkers, construction workers, builders, architects, disciplinarians, and politicians.

It was the foundation of the world, the embodiment of structure and an unshakable formation that could not be broken. It would laugh to itself while the Wind chiseled away at it, the Waters lapped at its shores, and the Fire yearned to scorch it, but even as the other elements attempted to bring it down, the Earth itself only grew stronger, more fortified, more purified in its very being.

It trembled, yet never cracked, shook, but never broke. It was unstoppable, unsinkable, unable to be marred. And yet, the Earth was all by itself in its quiet strength; the epitome of stability, but also the epitome of loneliness.

Earth was simple.

"No, your form is bad. Try again." Toph stood with her feet planted ankle deep in the ground while her Earthbending "partner" stood nervously before her. The blind girl frowned when she felt him shift his weight from one foot to the other. She sighed. "I told you, Haru, keep your stance steady. You're an Earthbender, you know that."

The mustached boy chuckled nervously. "I know… it's just that I've never fought a master before. I'm very antsy, that's all." His voice wavered slightly.

She felt a smile creep over her face. "Why, 'cause you know I'm gonna kick your butt?"

Toph sent out a small wave of vibrations and felt him lower his center of gravity defensively. "Yes."

Well, at least he's not a complete wussy. "At least you can admit that," she scoffed. "Whenever I fight Ponytail, he always whines that I was 'totally cheating.' Which I 'totally wasn't doing.'" A laugh escaped her small lips. "That wimp. He just hates it that he can get beat by a girl half his size."

Haru laughed, but it was rather forced. In reality, the poor guy was about to crap himself.

Toph smirked again, misplaced ebony bangs swishing teasingly in front of her milky green eyes. There was an unsettling about the temple, though… The Earthbender frowned and sent out more vibrations into the center of the temple structure. Something was… not right.

An earth-shattering explosion pried a girly yelp from Haru. Toph felt thousands of huge, intense sound waves rush up through the earth into her feet; this, coupled with the ear-shattering boom of the shockwave itself, caused Toph to cry out and Earthbend herself from her steady place in the ground. She was propelled through the air and landed painfully on the hard tiled floor of the Western Air Temple.

Toph groaned and rolled onto her stomach, ears still ringing. Haru, who hadn't gotten hurt nearly as badly as Toph due to his inability to see through Earthbending, rushed over to her and helped the young girl up.

"Are you OK?" She just pushed his hand away as soon as she was on her feet.

"'Mm fine," she muttered crossly. Now whoever in heck caused that explosion is about to die a slow and painful death… "I'm going to check that out."

Haru stood there helplessly while Toph stalked off down the large arched hallway, completely P.O.'ed and ready to kick some serious butt—which she had no doubt would belong to one screwball Water Tribe warrior. She followed his tell-tale and somewhat clumsy vibrations through several twisting hallways into an entranceway that made a 'T' with the one Sokka and Teo were currently walking through.

She stepped right in front of the duo, grabbed Sokka by the collar of the shirt, and slammed him against the wall. "What the crap do you think you're doing, Ponytail?" she growled angrily. She roughed him up again just for good measure. "You practically busted my freakin' eardrums!"

The laughter in his voice only fueled her anger. "Sorry, Toph," he chuckled, "but me and Teo's little experiment just got a teensy bit out of hand." A wayward laugh from the paralyzed boy was quickly cut off by Toph's furious glare. She directed her attention back to the tall boy currently propped against the wall.

"Yeah, well, don't do it again." She dropped Sokka unceremoniously to the ground. The Earthbender chuckled as she felt him scramble to his feet and dust himself off. "So what were you two talking about that was just so hilarious?"

She felt them turn to look at each other before Teo said, "We're covered in soot, Toph. Sokka just said the rings around my eyes from my goggles make me look like a raccoon-otter."

Toph laughed loudly and obnoxiously. "You're right, that is pretty funny. I only wish I could see you for real, Teo." Sokka and Teo joined in her laughter.

A set of prissy, yet furious footsteps sending vibrations to Toph made her stop suddenly. "Uh oh," she muttered. "We've got company." Thankfully, the other two didn't hear her and continued to laugh. The blind girl started chuckling lightly as well just so the ticked off Katara wouldn't think anything weird was going on.

"Just what do you two think you're doing?" Katara trilled angrily. "You could've killed somebody!"

Toph heard a few joints crack and imagined Sokka was stretching his hands high above his head lazily. "Chillax, sis," she heard him say smoothly. "It was just a misfire. Everything's fine."

"Yeah," Teo piped from his wheelchair. "We just had a little accident, that's all. Nobody got hurt, and we swear once we figure out how to handle this stuff, it won't happen again."

Toph imagined the Water Tribe girl glaring at the two boys and shaking her head disapprovingly. "OK… see that it doesn't. I just don't want to see anyone hurt, especially you guys." The Earthbender felt Teo shift in his chair and Sokka switch feet uncomfortably. "We need you… all of you… to survive and defeat the Fire Lord. Stop being stupid—especially you, Sokka." Toph had to hold in a laugh as she imagined him holding his hands up in a defensive "I-didn't-do-it" pose. An image of Katara with her hands on her hips in a motherly fashion only added to the hilarity of it all.

"Hey, no need to worry, 'Tara. No more stupidity, I swear. Warrior's honor." Toph wanted to bust a gut right then and there. No more stupidity? For Sokka? Yeah, when hog monkeys fly!

Instead of busting her gut, she opted to do the mature thing—she openly laughed mockingly, then said, "Good luck with that." This, of course, earned her a few heated gazes from the two boys and a couple good natured insults of their own. She smirked in typical Toph fashion as she felt Katara stalk off. Toph, of course, simply shrugged off the glares of the duo she could feel instead of see and interrupted her clumsy warrior friend and his disabled companion. "What's with Katara?"

Sokka was about to chasten her for interrupting his particularly well thought-out burn, but Teo beat him to the punch. "I don't know," he stated plainly. "As Sokka and I were walking away, I thought I heard Aang Airbending himself somewhere. Maybe she went to find him."

Toph nodded in understanding and walked off, down the hallway where she had felt Katara disappear. She wound her way through a few twisting hallways and one large, domed room with a hole in the roof before she finally found Katara. The Waterbender girl was kneeling on the ground, muttering obscenities to herself while placing a few small objects into a bag.

Probably what was supposed to be lunch, by the feel of that kettle, Toph mused. And jeez, Sugar Queen, I didn't know you knew what that meant. She smiled to herself. Maybe Katara wasn't as terribly sweet as she originally thought.

Toph hid in the alcove, waiting until she felt Katara move to go inside the nearest upside-down building. She followed her up the steps and listened to her (freakishly annoying) humming, all the while being sure to mask her movements. The Earthbender stopped when her companion stepped out onto the upper level of the temple and started moving her hands and feet in smooth, circular patterns.

Waterbending, I suppose, she surmised. Toph opted to wait this one out and sat down in the shadows at the top of the stairwell, not quite ready to let her 14-year-old friend know she had followed her.

And, oh joy, look at this; Aang was up here, too.

The two exchanged a few words (and by their rapidly beating heartbeats and breaking voices, Toph assumed it was lovey-dovey stuff) before sliding into smooth stances and beginning some Waterbending. She couldn't make out what they said from her far away position, but she could hear them laugh good naturedly, and she could still sense the vibrations of their skyrocketing heartbeats and blood pressure.

Toph shook her head in pity. They had it bad.

Yeah, and you've never had a crush on anyone before, either, a little voice mocked inside her head. "No, I sure haven't," she said, stubbornly crossing her arms. But, seemingly from its own accord, her face flushed a bright red. Oh hormones, why have you chosen today to forsake me?

She shook her head angrily and hoped the blood rushing to her face would go away soon enough. "I suppose the only way to get this out of my system is some good old-fashioned Earthbending," she muttered cockily.

Toph stood up and strode directly to where Sugar Queen and Twinkletoes were fully engrossed in their "bending." With a flick of her wrist, she shot a pillar of stone at Aang that shot him ungracefully towards the ceiling, effectively trapping him there. She could feel the older girl's harsh stare on her, but she decidedly ignored it.

Toph grinned ferally. "Lesson number one, Twinkletoes," she said as she slid into an Earthbending horse stance, "is to keep your eyes open for any—and all—attacks. That includes various bending sifus." She smiled even wider, if that was even possible. "Now," she said, "let us review. You need to touch up on your Earthbending."

Toph knew Katara was frowning, and from this moment on it was no longer a peaceful training session, but rather a three-way bending free for all.

Fire was passionate and driven.

It was hard work, dedication, and ferocity in the very definition of the words. The people of the Fire Nation were fierce and conniving and sometimes scheming, always having a cause and purpose and sometimes doing whatever it took to accomplish their goals. Firebenders were commonly military leaders, sometimes politicians, businessmen, merchants, and weapons masters.

It lived and breathed and grew and engulfed, all-consuming and forever rushing forward. It would start as a small, insignificant spark, then grow and crackle and explode until it was a large, massive fire, roaring forth its awesome power with a destructive force so powerful not even the chilled waves of the ocean could stop it.

It chuckled malevolently, bursting with energy, always growing, never forgiving, forever harsh, always bitter.

Fire was passionate.

Clump.

Pit-pat, pit-pat, pit-pit-

Thump da thump.

"Shoot." Zuko cursed as he accidentally shoved his toe violently against a protruding rock jutting from the ground. "What in the crap…? Ugh. Toph." Amber eyes rolled heavenward in exasperation. He shook his wounded foot (and brushed off his wounded pride) before proceeding forward. To his left were the open archways and large railings that openly led to a sharp dropoff into the canyon below. To Zuko's right was a smooth chiseled wall, the perfect marble color only marred by a few 20-foot statues scattered here and there, with little alcoves off to the side.

The Fire Prince found The Duke lounging on the feet of one of the large air monk statues. The younger boy looked rather bored, flipping a small stick from hand to hand. When The Duke didn't notice him, Zuko stopped and spoke up. "What are you doing here?"

"Nothing." The Duke didn't even bother to look at him.

Zuko took in his surroundings; no one else seemed to be around, not even the disabled boy or that mustached kid The Duke always hung out with. "Where's your friends?" he asked.

The Duke shrugged. "I 'unno."

"Well…" Zuko shifted his weight from foot to foot, "I'm not really… doing anything, either. Perhaps you would like to… do something together?"

The Duke turned an inquisitive gaze toward the older boy. "Like what?"

Zuko shrugged. "Perhaps a card game, or maybe… like, I don't know… Earth, Wind, Fire, and Air?" For a second, as the young Freedom Fighter stared at him, the Firebender had a horrible sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. After the Boiling Rock thing, most everyone accepted him (except Katara), but he still somehow felt like he was on thin ice with these people. Perhaps he had overstepped his boundaries…

He was relieved, however, when The Duke jumped down from his seat on the statue and said, "Sure. Sounds like fun."

They sat down and held out their fists. "One… two… three… shoot!"

Zuko held his hand, palm up, in the symbol for fire, while The Duke, obviously, held out a fist in the symbol of earth. The Duke laughed and flicked Zuko on the head. The prince groaned and rubbed his "sore spot," but they both flashed a grin and continued their game.

It didn't take long for the young boy to get tired with the game. Desperate to keep his new friend entertained, Zuko pulled a few ripped pieces of paper from a pocket inside his tunic. The pieces had two of every number—one through ten—written on them; small characters in the corners with a larger character in the middle. "Ready?" he asked.

The Duke nodded enthusiastically, positioning his overly-large helmet back over his head and rocking back and forth. Zuko dealt out the cards and began. "OK, my uncle taught me this game. All you have to do is draw two cards every time and discard one. The point is to collect as many of th—"

Suddenly, a subsonic boom slightly rocked the two boys. Zuko arched an eyebrow at his companion, but The Duke seemed just as perplexed as he was. The young boy shrugged. "Maybe it was Teo?" he suggested. "He's always talking about his new inventions, or these crazy ideas he's got for hand-held explosives 'n stuff."

Zuko nodded. "That's a good thought." He got up and left the cards with The Duke. "I'm going to see if anyone knows anything."

The younger boy rubbed his nose and said, "I think Aang's around here somewhere… the top of the Temple? Maybe he wanted to practice some bending or something."

Zuko nodded again and left the boy to his devices. He calmly walked up to the large stone railing and, jumping onto it, he looked around for some handholds or footholds. After all, why take the stairs when you can awesomely climb up the face of the temple? He grabbed a few handholds and started shimmying up the pillar. Jumping around and climbing here and there, he slowly made his way to the top of the structure with surprising speed and incredible agility. He flipped over empty flower beds, climbed around crumbling foundations, and grabbed onto stones—most of which were highly unstable and rolled away under his touch. The prince cursed and continued his climb upwards.

He grabbed the lip of the building and flipped himself upwards onto the top level of the building. He looked around, golden eyes scanning his surroundings. A few yards away on another temple, he saw Aang, Toph, and Katara practicing their bending. Well, that won't do.

Zuko shot a large fireball at the group, not really intending to hit anything. The three dodged out of the way, simultaneously arriving at separate ends of the temple. "Hey!" Zuko shouted. "Are you practicing your bending without me?" Even from his distance, Zuko could see a huge, goofy grin spread across his pupil's face.

"Zuko!" Aang yelled ecstatically. "I was wondering when you would show up."

"Yeah, Princess," Toph shouted, "get over here so I can kick your butt properly!" She spread her feet and made a few quick jabs of her fists, and a large slab of rock emerged from the edge of their temple over to the ledge where Zuko was standing. He grinned and walked across the slab, jumping nimbly onto the platform where his companions were poised for training.

"Now," Katara said with an evil smirk on her face, "let us begin."

Fire, Water, Earth, and Air all combined into a terrible, beautiful, dangerous, wonderful, exotic dance—the first time in centuries all four nations had been combined in such a friendly manner. Friendly—yet deadly.

After all, it was just a game to them.

Observing was about waiting and listening.

It included science, logic, statistics, and lots and lots of patience. Those who observed were scientists, thinkers, poets, and inventors.

But not all who observed were wimps. Some were weapons masters, mechanists, and master strategists for the world's greatest armies. It took much patience and planning, and it included lots of writing and recording and thinking. The observers were careful and meticulous, planning out every last detail with a precision all others would find boring, unnecessary, or just plain impossible to accomplish. But the observers were (for the most part) quiet, opting to sit in the shadows and wait and plan instead of rushing into a situation. If something went wrong, their schedules never failed—even if their ideas sometimes did.

It was ingenuity, creativity, versatility, and intelligence. It was long and meticulous and sometimes quite tedious—occasionally even melancholy.

Observing was about waiting.

Sokka grimaced as he scraped a layer of grime off of his face. He placed the dirty rag back into the bowl of water, wringing it out before wiping his face again. He looked at his reflection—tanned skin covered in a dark black coating, thin lips pulled back in a half-grin, and two bright blue eyes contrasting sharply with his darkened exterior. He sighed before throwing the rag back into the bowl. There was no way he was getting all this crap off of him.

"Whoa!" He ducked his head under his arms as a crack! resounded through the temple, followed by a hysterical laugh that could only belong to Toph. The Water Tribesman shook his head to clear out the confusion and smiled good-naturedly. He guessed it was one of those special "benders only" moments. A stray shot of fire erupting over the lip of the level high above his head only confirmed the boy's suspicions.

Sokka thought for a moment, then—fruitlessly attempting to wipe some more grime off of his face—he stood up and gathered a brush, an inking stone, and a small, worn-out tome in his arms. With that, he set off up the winding staircase, trying his best to be as quiet as possible.

He was halfway up the staircase when a booming voice stopped him in his tracks. "What do you think you're doing?"

Sokka yelped and whirled around to see his father standing behind him, arms crossed and eyebrow cocked. Even though he was a few steps below—and thus shorter—than Sokka, he still felt intimidated by the towering figure of his father. "Guh…" he stammered. "I was just… going to observe." He sweatdropped.

Hakoda relaxed a little. "You know," he began slowly, "I think they would rather be left alone."

"I know." Sokka shifted the materials in his arms nervously. "But I always observe them. I feel like, even though I can't participate, it's kinda… my job." He looked at the ground, then bravely met his father's gaze. "I just feel inclined to. Record and observe, I mean."

Hakoda only grunted. "…I suppose you feel like it's a part of you now?"

Sokka straightened up and said, "I believe it always has been."

Now it was Hakoda's turn to drop his gaze. After a few tense moments, he locked eyes with his son once again and nodded grimly. "I can understand that," he said quietly. "As long as I can come with you."

The younger Water Tribesman looked slightly surprised and taken aback, but he nodded nonetheless and led the way up the staircase. When they approached the shadowed opening leading to the temple's top level, Sokka stopped abruptly and sat down. He quietly positioned himself in the shadows, only moving up a step or so so he could better observe his companions. He flipped open his book and, grabbing his ink pen and brush, he began to write.

Hakoda rested his chin on his knees, watching his son quietly observe and record his friends. Sokka would look up from his book for a few minutes and watch them with his Arctic gaze, then a small smile would grace his lips, and he would brush his pen across the inking stone and touch the brush to the paper. His hand moved quickly and fluidly, writing small yet somewhat sloppy characters down the page. It wasn't nearly as graceful as traditional calligraphy, but it was certainly much faster and much less formal.

Hakoda set his chin and allowed for a small smile to reach his icy blue eyes as he continued to observe his children and their newfound companions.

Those who wrote and thought and planned were sometimes overlooked. Perhaps it was their inherent ability to point out the painfully obvious—and sometimes the not-so-obvious—and flick it back in their aggressors' faces. But sometimes, when they got the recognition they deserved, it wasn't all it was cracked up to be. They were often laughed at, called "idiots," or maybe just got a slap on the back and a "good job" for their efforts.

But through everything, they couldn't give it up. The statistics, the logic, the recording… none of it. It was a part of them—ingrained in their very nature further even than the minerals of the earth were embedded into her core. It was a part of them, and they were a part of it.

After all, if no one were there to watch and write and think, who could remember those others who did the incredible?