A/N: Happy Holidays! Hopefully everyone had a spectacular winter season! I sat myself down today and forced myself to write something that's been floating around for months but I haven't been able to set my mind to. So here it is. I really need to be adding on to "Distance" but I just have to get some inspiration for it. For so long I couldn't wait to write certain chapters, and now I'm just so busy that I can't find my inspiration. But don't worry, it always comes back. I hope you enjoy this! Please review! God bless!
Disclaimer: I don't own The Legend of Korra.
His eyes glared steadily at the gates on the other side of the island, looming as an obstacle to be beat in order for him to fulfill his purpose in life. He had to become a master airbender. It was not a choice, it was mandatory.
The panels of wood creaked as the warm summer air caressed them with the gentleness of a mother's hand guiding her child into his first steps. The absolute serenity that surrounded those horrid gates was enough to make Tenzin feel sick to his stomach.
"Okay, be the leaf," He murmured to himself, repeating the mantra his father had spoke to him as he attempted to slide through the moving gates yesterday afternoon. His turn in the spinning panels of death though did not end up well, in fact he was spit out of them with more bruises than he had ever had in his life, landing firmly on the front of his face. Kya and Bumi had snickered as their father ran over to his son to make sure he was alright.
Moving his feet swiftly, the eight year old airbender imagined he was in the confines of the gates, flowing with the movements of the air currents they created, not fighting against him. He closed his eyes and allowed his imagination to consume him just as the humid air had. A thin layer of sweat began to form on the boy's neck and he could feel the bald skin of his head beginning to turn red from the sun, but he didn't care. He was completely focused on his airbending.
"You can't be a disappointment," He whispered to himself gliding with his movements still in the small practice arena beside the cliff, set aside for bending purposes, "You're the last one after father. You must be able to do this."
Tenzin wasn't one for talking to himself, in fact, out of his siblings he was probably the most logical and level headed. He always figured he probably would have been this way had he been an airbender or not, but the pressures of being one of the last of a dying race definitely matured him quite a bit. He had found that recently, talking with himself was a sort of comfort. No one knew what it felt like to be him, no one understood the weight he was carrying precariously on his shoulders.
With one last slide of his foot, and a slight flourish of his airbending training robes, the young boy opened his eyes as the imaginary gates in his head disappeared.
He was met by a surprising sight.
His father stood a few feet in front of him, proud and tall. His shadow was long enough to nearly cover the meek form of the small child. The man was clothed in his autumn colored robes having just returned from a council meeting.
"Tenzin," His father said his name with a slight hint of apprehension, a tattooed hand coming up to stroke the dark hairs of his beard, "Did you say something?"
The boy twitched nervously, putting his hands behind his back and looking down at the hard stone of the arena, "No, father."
The Avatar looked at him wryly for a moment before sitting down on the stone steps in which he had been standing on, "Really? Because I thought I heard you talking."
The boy huffed a sigh as he turned from his father, taking on an airbending stance and beginning to run the basics, knowing that his father probably came to the arena to practice with him, "I was just trying to understand why I couldn't complete the gates yesterday."
"I don't quite understand that either," The man responded, grinning slightly as he watched his son switch positions as if he was up against an actual opponent, "I was watching a few moments ago and it seems like you have the right idea."
Tenzin turned his head and fixed him with a glare resembling his mother's, "Than why can't I do it?"
Aang held up his hands defensively, "Hey, I don't know! Maybe you should be asking yourself that."
The young boy rolled his eyes in frustration at his father's suggestion, "I've gone over everything in my head, I just don't understand why I wasn't able to get through them. You said that Kya had the gates down pat on her first try, and it only took Bumi three to complete them as well. Father, they aren't even airbenders and already they make better airbenders than I do!"
The Avatar gave his son a sympathetic look, his silver eyes watching as the boy performed a wobbly slide of the foot and tripped slightly to the side, "Tenzin, are you doing alright?"
Embarrassed by his slight misstep, the young airbender straightened up and pulled at his collar, "Of course I am. Why would you say that?"
Aang shrugged nonchalantly, watching as Tenzin performed a combo and then tripped over the last step, a step he could have perfectly executed when he was four.
The young boy stamped his foot in frustration and brought his hands to his head. The master airbender imagined that if he had hair, he would probably be pulling it out about now.
"Son, I think you need to take a break."
The boy turned to him, eyes flashing with raw determination while he shook his head vigorously, "Father, I am fine."
The older man shrunk back a bit, allowing his back to rest against the cool stone of the step behind him, "Whatever you say."
Watching as Tenzin kept missing small steps and tripping over himself, Aang began to realize what was making him so unsure about his movements.
Airbenders are not head on people, in fact, they prefer to skate around their problems for as long as they can without having to face them. The problem with Tenzin was that he was facing his future head on, he wasn't allowing himself to go with the natural ways of the world. He was trying to forge his own path.
He had already acknowledged he would someday be the last airbender, and at the tender age of eight, he was already allowing that duty to consume his life. He was also allowing those fears of never being able to master airbending bring him down as well.
"Tenzin," Aang spoke tentatively, calling the attention of the young airbender still trying to perfect his combination, "Can I tell you something?"
The boy became slightly apprehensive, "Of course."
The Avatar stood, his joints slightly creaking from the change in position as he walked over to his son, placing a firm hand on his shoulder and smiling comfortingly, "Do you know it's okay to be scared?"
The child looked up at his father questioningly before he straightened up and gained a defiant look in his light eyes, "What do I have to be scared about? I'm not scared of anything."
The Avatar fixed his son with a stern gaze, yet the boy could see he was just trying to get him to talk, "Tenzin, I can tell you are lying."
"Father, please," Tenzin sighed in exasperation as he ducked from under the man's hand and made an attempt to begin practicing again, but his father's next words stopped him.
"You aren't always going to be the last."
The boy could feel the blood pulsing through his veins freeze as he glared at the ground beneath his feet, the sun glinting off the stone,
"I'm not the last now, am I?"
The Avatar chuckled slightly at his son's slight snark, reminded heavily of his dear Katara's usual defensive answers, "No, you aren't," His tone suddenly became serious and Tenzin could tell that his eyes were pensively watching the back of his head, "But I think sometimes you forget that."
"I don't know what you are talking about," The boy answered quickly, continuing on with his airbending drills, avoiding his father's eyes at all costs.
Aang could see Tenzin's exterior breaking though, he was visibly shaken by his father's words. The Avatar had hit the surface of what was plaguing his son.
"The most important thing, Tenzin," The master airbender walked over to his son, standing beside him as he continued to slide his feet and move his fingers to manipulate the slight wind current around him, "Is that you talk about these fears."
The boy stopped, silently standing for a moment. Aang watched as Tenzin raised his chin in slight defiance.
"Because if you don't," The Avatar pointed at the gates, standing tall against the backdrop of the trees they lay in front of, "They can throw you out of balance."
The boy looked to where his father was pointing and cringed at the painful and humiliating memory.
Aang gave his son's shoulder a firm squeeze before he turned and began to walk back to there home, but not before turning around and offering his youngest a comforting smile, "I'm always here if you want to talk."
A few years down the road, and Tenzin could hear himself repeating the words his father had spoken to him in the exact training arena he was sitting in now. Except instead of a shaken airbender sitting beside him, a strong willed Avatar was the one he was speaking those words to.
He felt as though he was returning the favor.