To me, the powers of an element bender are beautiful. You can manipulate your element in any way, shape, or form, and the beauty of it lies in the eyes of the bender.
Bending is an art.
I'm not quite sure when our routine started, but I can tell you that it's something I will forward to for the rest of my life.
I would compare our sparring to a song. As we spar, water against fire, it is like a rhythm; the way our hands, elements, and bodies move in motion. We respond to each other.
We do not spar to injure—the significance is much more extensive that that. We spar to dance but, very often, it means much more to the both of us.
It begins when we meet. We acknowledge each other then we get into position.
The day before I ended first thus indicating that it is his turn to start. His burst of fire causes me to spin and I proceed to make my move. He turns his body at the waist, my water spiral not even touching him.
He puts his hands above his head and I jump. Then it's his turn to twirl.
We switch the lead back and forth until our sparring reaches the middle. Now, it doesn't matter whose turn it is. My water meets his fire and we both give it our all.
Once the song fades, our dance ends. We stop and the two of us are out of breath. We're both drenched with sweat and water, the only visible remnants of our meeting.
After a long stare I bow and take leave, and he does the same but heads in the other direction.
We do not talk at all when we meet. We only dance. Sometimes, we both know and secretly acknowledge that our song runs much more deeper than what it may seem; it symbolizes many things.
To us, the elements are our instruments, the bending is our dance, and the song is our love.
We both live for tomorrow.