I do not own anything from Avatar. Just Sai and Jai Li. Nothing else.
This is not a Sue. I think. R&R.
The deep wet coughs splattered against the cavern walls. Sai rested her heavy head on the smooth stone lip of the bed. Grandmother had fallen ill a week ago. Sai had sat beside her for all that time. But not one of her balms or potions had even made Grandmother comfortable. Death loomed like a shadow.
"How about a story Grandmother?" Sai said with forced cheer. "It always makes me feel better."
Grandmother didn't respond, just sank like she couldn't support the weight of her own body anymore.
Taking a deep breath, Sai began, "Long ago, when the Loin-Turtles roamed, the world was… was…" her voice cracked.
Sai couldn't speak. A lump she just couldn't swallow blocked her throat. Her Grandmother was her only family, the only thing she had left in the world. She couldn't lose her. A withered hand stroked her face. Sai grabbed it and held on with all her might.
"Sai, stop that," Grandmother rasped gently. "Don't cry for this old bird. My time has long passed. You have to stand on your own now."
"I don't know how," Sai whispered
"No one ever does. But you'll find your way. I know you're destined for great things, Sai. You have strength inside you, more than you have ever known."
Sai said nothing, just squeezed Grandmother's hand. Hours passed and she did not let go. Not when Grandmother stopped coughing. Not when she could no longer see the rise and fall of Grandmother's chest. Not when Grandmother's hand became icy cold. Finally as sole lamp guttered, Sai reached over and closed Grandmother's eyes for the last time.
Sai stood, her joints stiff and painful after hours of confinement, and stumbled to tree just outside her home. Dropping to her knees, she dug into the ground beneath the tree with her bare hands. As she dug, memories of the ones she had loved, the ones she had lost, bubbled up into her mind. Her Grandmother, wise and constant. Her sister, beautiful and kind. The few, faded memories of her parents. All of them were gone now. She was alone.
Sai took the stone knife from the house and carefully carved Grandmother's name into the tree. She stood and returned to the place that no longer felt like her home. The strings of silver bells hung across the entrance chimed in familiar rhythm when she walked through them.
Sai stared at the cave she lived in for sixteen years. Her fingers ran across the paintings of Spirits and legends that adorned the walls. The colors were chipped and faded, almost unreadable. Grandmother had spent many nights lulling her and Jai Li to sleep with her stories. She touched her own face. Her fingers came away dripping with tears. She felt nothing inside. No hope or relief. No fear or sadness. Not even as she looked at the very spot where Grandmother had taken her last breathe. She wasn't home anymore. She didn't belong here. Sai began to strip the beds with earnest precision. The mattresses and bedding went into the stone box hidden deep within the cave. For more than three hours, she worked by the meager light of the fire, storing the remains of her life into the box: clothes, plants, medicines, the few battered heirlooms, and the workings of Grandmother's craft.
There was no trace of her life left when she was done. The cave might have been abandoned for years. She kicked dirt over the smoldering embers and left that place with a shaking but determined. She didn't spare a glance for the crude square of damp earth cut into the clearing. She marched straight up to the cliff, than stopped at the very edge and took one last look at the world. The sunset painted the sky with pale oranges and reds. The sea stretched out for miles before it washed against the shore a thousand feet below. It was breathtaking. The tears continue to run down her face as she fixed the sight in her mind. With a deep breath, Sai closed her eyes and stepped into the open air.