A millennium ago, there was an age of dragons. Xiang the soul eater and his brethren reigned over the four nations, dedicating his life to hunting the avatar and absorbing the legacy of souls inside them. No man, bender or no, could kill Xiang. Avatar after avatar died in hiding, protecting the line of avatars from ceasing to exist. Until, a single avatar rose up, and gave her life to allow the line of avatars to continue unhunted. This is the story of The Gift of Ilah.
Forewarning: This was my first attempt at writing, and was written approximately 5 months ago. I was struggling with the tenses, but I've made a quick attempt at fixing them. If this story continues, the quality will be guaranteed to be much greater. I've also researched this series heavily to be as accurate as possible, but feel free to point out any discrepancies.
A caravan that had seen many an age ricketed across a barely worn path, the patches of dirt that were exposed were painted with beautiful orange light from a sun threatening to set. Flowers dotted the green lush landscape, flourishing from the rich ash soil. The air was so mild it was causing all the family cargo riding in the back of the caravan to be lazily lulling about.
A ruffian boy, who has seen too many fights to count on all his hands and toes, buried his nose into an intricately painted map. He causally glanced up at his companions, his adoptive mother who was with child, and his sister who was exasperatedly tuning her erhu. They all fit snugly in the caravan, which was stuffed to the brim with cargo.
Ilah was snug between two new fascinating inventions stuffed with cogs and wheels. Shiro and his mother were tucked between a pile of two crates containing great artifact treasures. Such is life as a traveling merchant family, is what every member of the family thinks to themselves often. Shiro's father was out of sight but made his presence known with his whistling to the tuning of Ilah's erhu.
The dragon moose that pulled all their precious goods seemed to respond delightfully to every whistle, adding a kick to her step at every whistle and rocking the caravan. Little fauna added to the atmosphere of this family's travel, besides a few chiming cicadas in the great green valley before them.
Shiro gave an angry grunt in Ilah's direction, hinting at his currently wavering concentration. She looked at him blankly then back to her instrument, while their mother is immediately set on edge, prepared to diffuse any sibling rivalry.
"Sounds quiet back there." Their father shouted back at them, gruffly.
"Far too quiet." Noted his wife as she rubs her obtrusive belly.
Hell hath a pregnant woman scorned, Shiro thought to himself.
He strained to continue his concentration. Horribly out of tune music mixed with constant sharp noise.
Plunk.
Twang.
Twing.
Ilah flopped over onto her back, attempting to tune upside down, and looking very focused. Her knees began knocking against the contraptions she was wedged between, causing them to clatter and chime to the consistent plucking.
"You know, I HAVE to find where Shu jing is..." His mother placed her hand on his shoulder, albeit much more lightly than usual. She seemed happily surprised at his restraint.
Feeling proud of himself for his emotional bottling, Shiro gestures the map in a enthusiastic motion.
"Or we'll be sleeping in the caravan tonight."
Ilah looked at him, still upside down, Her face turning red from rushing blood.
"Your better at tuning this thing than me, you should be doing it!"
Their mother, Amaya sighed at her defensiveness and laid back in defeat, unwilling to deal with the oncoming stubbornness.
"Yeah, then how about you read the map for me- if you would be so kind!" Shiro snapped as he gestures the rolled up map in her direction.
Ilah flipped forward, knocking plenty of cargo over and injuring herself. She brushes it off after stifling a quiet oof and snatched it from his hand.
She tosses her erhu at him, rather hard "Thank you very much!" .
Shiro sits contently, watching her attempt to read the map. Ilah fumbled to open it, then turns it countless times in an attempt to find which way is up. She pressed her nose to the paper, looking very panicked.
"Not so easy, is it?" Shiro said smugly, as he plucks at her erhu to mock her.
"Shiro-" His mother trails off, highlighting her disappointment in his cruelty.
Ilah abruptly with an angry growl gives up and tossed the map in the air, scorching it with her fire bending.
She rolled and crawled to the back of the caravan and covered herself with a tarp, disappearing from view. Shiro made a sad noise as he rest his chin on his hand, surveying the burnt bits of his favorite map.
Their father chuckles from the front,
"That's more like it." ...seemingly amused in their sibling rivalry.
Amaya half turned her head toward her husband, brushing off his laughter.
"Its not funny Mao."
"Nonsense! Sibling rivalry is healthy. If two teenagers did get along, then I'd think something would be wrong."
Shiro crossed his arms and avoided his mothers judging glare.
Mao picks up on the lack of silence and chuckles again, "You remember even we didn't get along when we were teenagers!" Amaya warmed to the memory of meeting her husband and gives up her angry posture.
She pats her stomach and says quietly and sternly to Shiro,
"Don't tease Ilah about her vision. You know shes very sensitive about it."
"She ruined my map." Shiro mutters begrudgingly as he mindlessly tunes the musical instrument.
"Map? Maps are nonsense. In this family, we go where the wind takes us!"
The caravan tips forward a significant amount, most likely from Mao jumping up jovially.
The curtains hiding the front of the caravan to the inside rustle and toss from the obvious giddy dancing to their over enthusiastic father. Ilah giggled from under her tarp, and her mother joined her.
"I tuned it.",says Shiro in an even quieter and more begrudging tone than before.
Ilah untangled herself from under the tarp that was once covering a myriad of brass pots, then awkwardly dives to the front of the caravan.
"Let's get some music going!" She said with sparkling eyes.
"Brilliant idea my dear!" Shouted her father from the front. Shiro made a disapproving face at her immaturity.
"Now, maybe you two should apologize to each other, first." Amaya suggested while shifting uncomfortably.
The siblings made an unpleasant face at each other, then turn away.
"Sorry." They both said in unison, halfheartedly. Shiro gestures her erhu about her head and she took it almost timidly from her brother.
Amaya snuggles up next to Ilah, and then half yells back to her husband.
"How long until we reach a village, dear?"
"Bout a day. We'll be somewhere by morning. " He said lazily, as the curtains shift to show him leaning back, presumptively resting his legs on the rump of Toyun, their dragon-moose. He made a booming grunt while he stretched flamboyantly.
"What song should I play?" Ilah asked inquisitively, looking back and forth to all her family members. She wiggled in excitement, dying to make music again.
"How about,"The change of seasons"?" Amaya suggested, pulling a blanket over herself, nesting as the usual pregnant mother would.
"That one is too sad." Shiro commented as he slumps forward.
"What about "Butterfly Lovers"?" Mao shouted, significantly losing his volume control.
"Yeah!" Ilah bounced, incredibly excited to play her favorite song. She stumbled to the top of a pile of crates.
"Shiro, gimme a beat!" She pointed at him enthusiastic as she struggled to sit comfortably and hold her erhu. "
Shiro complied, and rather cheerily began tapping his boots. Ilah closed her eyes and rocked back and forth to the beat for a brief second before playing. Her bare toes wiggled to the tune she played.
Their mother seemingly played opossum, neglecting the song's queue for her singing to begin by pretending to sleep.
Everyone else was very content with what sounds are being made, and play until the sky turned red, purple and other spectacular colors that come with a setting sun. A great feeling of content washed over the jubilant travelers, each feeling some form of satisfaction. Mao, a feeling of pride for his family. Shiro, content with calming music and the sweet night air beginning to drift in through the caravan curtains.
Ilah, content that everyone enjoys her playing and bemused with the beautiful view out of the back of the caravan she has while perched on her crates. Still, despite her mild contentment, anxiousness bit at her, as it usually does. The looming dark clouds, the foreign territory to her and her family, and 'tis the season for village burnings. Defying all her worries, she still fell asleep, curled up like a bearded cat on a old monk's windowsill, with her erhu dangling out of her hand.