The Way with Eyes
By WaterHeart

The way with eyes are, they give you a mark. They are your mark. Firebenders--the whole filthy lot of them--are marked with yellow or black eyes. Earthbenders--green or brown. Airbenders--grey. And Waterbenders? Their eyes are the bluest of clear water blue. Just like my mother's… just like mine.

Obviously, you can have these eye colors and not be a Bender, but my mother was. She was the last Waterbender in my whole village, to be exact. When she became pregnant, everyone knew there was a chance another Waterbender could come into the world. Everyone prayed her child would have blue eyes. Their prayers were answered. I was born.

For a few short, happy years, I was blissfully unaware that I was "different." I didn't know I was supposed to be special. Then, late one night when I was four, I heard Mother whispering to a visiting friend. She thought I was asleep in the next room, but I caught every word.

"Oh, yes, little Sokka's first year was very exciting. The entire village was in uproar over the second Waterbender. Even now, people are constantly stopping by to look at his clear blue eyes--They act as if no other child in the village has them! No, I haven't told him what they mean yet. I haven't even given him his talisman, though I want to begin his training. Why burden such a young child with that kind of training when they still dream of being a warrior?"

Second Waterbender? Though I did not know the exact meaning of those words, I understood that they had heavy significance.

I began to notice it all. The stares. The whispers. "Waterbender," they said. I liked the attention-- no, I loved the attention. Young as I was, showing off my skills with the blade became a favorite pastime. I ate up any compliment that came my way, but I rarely looked anyone in the eyes. I couldn't help but feel mine were marked.

The word "Waterbender" did not stay a mystery for long. Through spying and my own reasoning, I deduced that a Waterbender could move any kind of liquid.

And so I practiced.

I spent hours on end sitting still (not a favorite pastime by any means) and staring at bodies of water. I danced. I waved my arms. I did anything and everything I could think of to make the water move with a mere thought. I began to wonder if I had misunderstood; perhaps "Waterbender" didn't mean what I thought. Perhaps I still special.

Then, when I five, it snowed so hard I could not leave my family's little house. I was stuck inside, quietly staring out the small kitchen window. I stared and stared at the storm of frozen water... Mother was baking bread. As I gazed at the snow, something moved within me. The burning question I'd carried inside since the night I eavesdropped broke the silence. I had to confirm what I suspected, what I hoped wasn't true.

"What's a Waterbender?"

Mother, belly swollen with my baby sister, jumped at my sudden question. Slowly her gazed turned from shock to something altogether different. I saw a pride and hope in her eyes that I'd never seen before. At last she reached for a glass and filled it.

"A Waterbender controls the element," she said as the liquid rose into the air with a mere flick of her wrist. "He, or she, masters it."

My eyes followed the path of the water. The feeling of dread that had grown inside me was suddenly punctured by a small pinprick of hope. "So… I'll be a Waterbender… someday… right? Because of my blue eyes?"

"Yes, Sokka, that's the way with eyes," Mother smiled. She held up her other wrist, where a simple blue talisman hung from a length of black ribbon. "And someday, you'll get to wear this. Here, you try." The water effortlessly drifted back into the glass. She placed it on the floor where I sat. "Concentrate. Move the water as easily as you would your fingers."

I stared. I concentrated. I prayed…

Nothing happened.

"Here, Sokka," Mother encouraged. There was a hint of desperation in her voice. I could tell how much Mother wanted this. She sat down on the floor beside me, but her round belly made it difficult. She took my hand. "Just think of the water as an extension of yourself, and it will Bend."

She moved my hand back and forth over the glass. I tried… I really tried. Still nothing happened. A burning welled up behind my eyes that I couldn't really explain.

"Just concentrate-"

"I can't!" The words exploded from a lump in the back of my throat. I pulled my arm away, the burning in my eyes growing worse.

I ran. Mother didn't come after me. I threw myself in the snow I could not Bend. Tears poured down my face.

I wasn't special. I wasn't what everyone- what Mother- wanted me to be. It was kind of a defining moment… Something you don't easily forget.

Not long afterwards my sister was born. The village had reason to celebrate once more. She, too, had blue eyes. However, she wielded power I could never have. She was the second Waterbender.

I became her protector. With no Bending skills to hone, I trained my body to protect my sister, Katara, from the stares and whispers I'd once known. Mother's daughter was now the focus of her happiness, energy, love… and her son was just a huge disappointment. I know she must have loved me, deep down… but the day she gave Katara the blue talisman--my talisman--was the day my heart shattered.

Years passed. To be honest, I think I missed all the attention. Loud speeches of bravado and over-the-top boomerang techniques became my forte. And though I shielded Katara from other people's comments, that didn't stop me from tormenting her about her "weirdness." I'd be lying if I said those taunts didn't spring from jealousy.

Then one day, shortly before Mother died, I spent the morning sparring near a river. The approach of spring had nearly thawed it completely, however ice and snow still clung to the edges, making the liquid deadly cold. Mother appeared with a jug to collect drinking water. I dropped my weapon and gave her a large, sweaty smile. She nodded to acknowledge my presence, but did not return my grin. This didn't surprise me.

She moved closer to the water, stepping over ice as she went, her sense of caution washed away from years of Waterbending. Somehow, I knew what was going to happen a spilt-second before it did.

"Mother!"

I reached out, grabbed her delicate hand, and pulled back as hard as I could. We both fell backwards, Mother landing beside me. The ice she stood on only moments before had broken away into the freezing water. Mother watched it float downstream before she turned to me.

"Sokka!" she breathed, clearly winded by the shock. She took several deep breaths. "Those are quite the instincts you have, just like your father. Trust them." I nodded, and Mother granted me a rare smile. I took in its glow. She cupped my chin, casting her eyes into mine. "Look at you. You have a fire in your eyes, Sokka. I can see right into your soul. But I suppose that's the way with eyes, isn't it?"

Those may not have been the last words she ever said to me, but they're the ones I want to remember. Trust my instincts... believe the fire inside me...

Yes, Mother, that is the way with eyes. And that's the way with me.

The End