A/N: Hello my lovelies! First off, thanks for viewing! :) I really appreciate all the support (anonymous or no), I've recieved from you peoples! Thank you so much! You are all so wonderful!
This extra special chapter goes out to Angelic Land, a great writer who reviewed my work and made me feel really welcome in the massive universe of FanFiction...you are the absolute BEST and I hope ya like this! (you've waited long enough!)
If you have a quite second, pop over to his profile and R&R his story, Aang up at bat. Definetly worth the time! :)
Well, enough bragging about other awesome people..on with the show!
Disclaimer (seriously?! I'm gonna have to do this every time?! Rough life...)- *clears throat dramatically* I, EverleafOwl, do not obtain or claim to have obtained any characters from Avatar: The Last Airbender. All copyrighted characters/ideas/other belong to the highly esteemed Mike and Bryne of Nicktoon. I do, however, own my OCs...
Woah, that was formal...
...I should be a politician...
*ponders said decision*
Nah; I'd probably screw up the economy by making all books free or something...
*shrugs* Well, the library's always open...
I like to think I can remember.
It seems so pitiful, not even knowing your own mother.
Sometimes I imagine that if I search hard enough, something will appear.
A pair of warm, amber eyes. The scent of sweet perfume. Desperate tears from a husband that wouldn't stay.
But I'd be lying to myself.
I only remember the cliffs; high, rocky ledges that peered curiously to the crashing waves and soft shores below.
The swaying yellow grasses that draped over the land like a blanket, with flowers dotting along its surface as embroidery covers a noble woman's dress.
A small hut, smaller still for two, with thick mud walls and herbs that dangle from the rafters with the never-fading presence of summer.
The scorching sun and its blazing heat towered in the sky, baking the earth and bringing forth the light. My light.
That might sound selfish. I really don't care.
You see, my entire childhood revolved around the light.
The spark.
The flame.
The fire.
The beginning.
Ever since I was small, before I can even pretend to imagine my mother, it has existed.
My sobo, Roshina, taught me everything she knew. Not only what she was trained to do as a child, but what her ancestors before her had learned; the ancient way, long forgotten except for the few that carry on its legacy.
She told me that long ago, her great-great-great grandfather was a very bad man. He robbed for fun and was not afraid to hurt others with his gift. One night, he was on the run from the angry townsfolk and stumbled into a temple.
Cold and tired, he slept for a night and awoke the next day with one of the temple's keepers bringing him food, much to his surprise. At first, he was skeptical of this strange kindness and questioned harshly against the temple man. The caring man simply rose, and after bidding my ancestor to do the same, placed a hand over his heart and his lips and gave unto him a new vision.
…or that's what my sobo would tell me…I never really believed in fairy tales. But she hated when I'd interrupt so I'd listen, quietly imagining such a fantasy.
"Go," the fire sage had told him, "And follow the sun for you and your descendents."
I never quite understood the part about my forefather seeking the fading Sun Warriors' way of life, but apparently he did. His village kicked him out for defying the order set by the current fire lord (my ancestor was reawakened in the time of the splitting of the royal court and the fire sages), so he traveled the land, searching for something he did not know.
Eventually my elder settled down with a wife and raised a family. At the time of his passing, he granted his eldest child, a daughter, the few beliefs and customs he managed to uncover about the true sun descendants. His name was Kokoro; he who has the new heart and mind.
Ever since, the ways of the sun have been passed down through my grandmother's family, either to the eldest/or second eldest firebender, if the first born did not have the gift. The manner has been tampered and altered a bit, but that's not important, as my sobo told me. What's important is that what was almost forgotten is being carried on by you, my little pikapika.
She'd smile and kiss my nose and I'd jump into her arms, toothily grinning and flinging my arms around her neck, my little fingers toying with the long silver braid that stretched down her back. We'd walk back inside the hut from the open meadow and she'd let me light the fire kindling, because of my good job with the day's breathing exercises.
I'd fall asleep by the flickering light and she'd fondly tuck me in bed, only to be woken up the next day to her smiling face and the rising sun the next day.
It was a good, simple life…the best memories I really remember.
Sometimes when the mild winter came whistling from the north and sunlight grew short as the stubby candles scattering our home, I'd come in from chores to see her sitting in the old rocking chair, gazing out the window to a patch of rocks where she'd go and sit often. Her brown eyes would glisten and she'd clutched at a faded crimson scarf, not moving. Sometimes I'd slip back out, leaving her to her thoughts but other times I'd enter silently and start cooking or cleaning, keeping her hushed company with old visions I didn't understand…or want to understand.
I never imagined it would end…the thought never occurred to me, even as I grew older and she became frailer, more tired. She was always strong to me; a rock for the small corner of the raging world we called home. Nothing could break this bond...
But, oh how fate can be cruel.
DA DA DAH! ANOTHER CLIFF HANGER! Oh, man! I'm gonna get clubbed to death with a laptop or something before I actually write the exposion...
Soooo? What do ya think? Let me know! Here's a poem to help you out:
Reviews are lovely;
Every writer will say
So I only ask of you
A small fraction of your day
With just a click,
(It's really quick!)
Tell me your thoughts
For what is the cost?
And I will thank you next time
a chapter posts new...
Urgh, I'm tired of rhymes...
The author loves you!
So...yeah...*hopeful grin*
If ya haven't checked out my profile yet (why are you still here?! Go read it and come back!), I'm an expressionalist poet...
...no idea what "expressionalist" means...(is it a word?)...it just seems to fit my style.
ANYHOO, my super cool writer and fellow nerd kid sister has an account here now, too! Yay! Her user name is Indigo Tides and she has one TMNT 2012 story up and in progress, it you're into that kind of stuff...
*checks invisible To-Do List* Yup...I think that's about it!
OH ALMOST FORGOT!
Sobo means 'grandmother' in Japanse
Simiarly, 'pikapika' means 'brilliant spark'
-If you are of Japanese origin and/or know the language, I apologize ahead of time if words are being used in the wrong tense...I used Google Translate (not the best idea...but I was rushing)-
NOW I believe I'm done so I wish all you fellow readers, writers, and casual browsers a fantastic night and hope your summer is going well! :) Thank you again for all you're continued kindness! I wish you all the best in...what ever you are doing right now!
Take care!