Hey everyone! I just had a brain storm and wanted to post this story as soon as possible. This is my first One-shot, so please, FLAMES ACCEPTED! I would greatly appreciate it! Enjoy!
Disclaimer: I do not own any characters in this fic.
Claimer: The idea is mine, so NO STEALING!
Thoughts ran through his head as he silently meditated. Thoughts of everything he had been through in the past couple months. Of the promotions, the betrayal, the ressurection, the take-down, the rescue, everything. His friends, his home, his family. All of it.
He knew that they all hated him, despised him. They had before he had betrayed him, but afterwards, well, let's just say that they would never trust him again.
Trust wasn't something that was given. It was earned.
It was true he had made Apprentice; he had even saved their butts, and he never got so much as a "thank you". Normally, he would't have cared, but as he cracked open an eye to watch the others train, he had to be envious. They all think he had the easiest element. They didn't know that wind itself has a mind of its own. It could never be truely controlled; he had to work with it, not against it. They didn't know how he always had to prove himself. He had to prove that he was good enough for this temple, that he could stay there, that he was in control of his element, that he was good enough to be an Appretnice, that he could be trusted.
And they still didn't trust him.
They never would.
He heard them call his name and he opened his eyes all the way and looked up at them. He saw the distrust in their eyes; the suspicion. As he stood up, he put on the invisible mask he had become accustomed to wearing around them. The mask of jokes, or pranks; of fear. He had worn it ever since his first day here, and the only time he took it off was when he was meditating, where the only one who knew who he really was was himself.
The mask was on as he followed them towards the room where they were bunked. Each one went into their own cubicle, including him. It held mementos of his former life, a life where he was trusted. A life where everyone knew he was able to handle things on his own.
He sighed as he lay on the cot they called a bed. Thoughts once again ran through his mind. He willed them to go away, to not come back until he was meditating. Sleep was his number one priority at the moment. He closed his eyes, but sleep never came.
After a long time, his cunningly trained senses picked up movement in the cubicle nest to him. He listened intently as whispers traveled to his ears. They were talking about him. About how they were worried about him. About how easy his element was.
About how he couldn't be trusted.
He tried to close his ears to the soft sounds, but they just got louder in his head. Everywhere he searched for safety, the words kept turning up.
Trust. Trust. Trust. Trust.
Trust is something that can't be given. It must be earned...