White Lotus Compound

Pain's a wonderful feeling. That smash when you ram your skull straight into the icy ground? Priceless. I mean, so is your health. Well-being. Al certainly felt the latter were more important, as a wooden stick connected with his skull, sending him spiraling into a pile of snow. "Keep your guard up." A youthful voice said, poking Al in the back. "The ice may be slippery, but it keeps you mobile. Never plant your feet in a fight, except to strike. Always move." Al sprung to his feet, whirling about. Around him, the banners of the White Lotus ringed the training ground – some firebenders battling in one corner – a waterbender teaching others in another. In the middle, Raiku – Sokka's Grandson, and the first person Al had met who didn't look like an extra, stood. He was of average height, slim build, and clearly was fairer skinned than Sokka had ever been. Al hadn't had the heart to ask the quiet boy about his family – and he wasn't sure if he'd ever have the mental faculties to.

Their sticks crossed with a loud thwack. Al was a full-right goalie – meaning his left arm was very strong from holding his stick, but his right hand was more agile. Unlike Arya, however, he didn't feel like being fancy – and held his stick on his right. Raiku poked forward, the basket hilt of his practice stick protecting his hand as he parried Al away. If you say anything about a goalie – they're quick. Al dodged right, bringing his stick down hard. Raiku swung up, catching it on the downstroke and batting it aside. "Don't get too fancy." He said.

Al slapped forward, slicing and dicing, a flurry of blows – but they didn't accomplish much. Raiku practiced daily, and his sword arm was defter than Al's. Al felt his strength fading – and felt a hard tap to his sternum as Raiku tossed Al's weapon away once more. "Perhaps you're not getting it?" The boy said dryly. Al put his hands on his knees, letting out a steaming pant into the air. Mist coalesced around him, the pair's warmth visibly dissipating into the afternoon air. Al had only played in Canada outdoors a few times – and this felt far colder. Were it not for the walls, the wind would have given him frostbite by now.

"What am I not getting?" Al asked, standing up. Al was already short, and Raiku was roughly his size at fourteen. He was getting bigger, though – in two weeks of training, he'd already gained some height: and would probably hit six foot by the time everything was over. 'Everything' being enough to make Al learn swordplay – being himself a man not prone to violence aside from blockering goons and idiots.

"You're too worried about form." Raiku said. "You fight like a bender with a sword – too ordered, too focused. When I first held a sword, my trainer taught me never to focus on a way. Be like the seas, ever rippling. Like fire, crackling and shifting. Like wind, pliable. I know that sport you claim to play – saw you get that game going last week: your reliance on form in it makes you good – makes you protect yourself and always get hit by the disc-"

"-Puck" Al interjected.

"Puck." Raiku said. "You are always hit by it," He continued, "And that's fine when your job is to get hit. You -never- wish to be hit in a fight. There is no armor that can protect you from the full power of a bender – nor can armor keep you safe against a skillful chi-blocker." His eyes were distant, and Al saw it. The Red Lotus had killed his family, after all – Sokka, for all his skill with the blade, was no match for lava, explosions, and massive water whips.

"So you're saying get loose? Ignore the plan? Just fight?" Al asked. "Isn't that in direct opposition to how you get better at something? Technique exists for a reason, doesn't it?"

"Sure." Raiku said. "And technique works against you or I – but there's no rulebook to fighting the infinite applications of bending, or the pure speed of Chi-Blockers." He gathered himself into a ready stance as Al slid back into place, his stick in hand. The pair crossed blades and began again. In the distance, a white dog sat. Its tail wagged, watching the combat with interest. Korra had been on a learning adventure with Tenzin for some time – out amidst the windy plains. Something about 'feeling the air' – and doing so on Naga was far harder than on her feet.

Al stepped forward, taking a two handed grip on his stick. Raiku struck first, and Al moved his own stick halfway across Raiku's ripping them both to the right and away. Giving no time for recoil, Al drove his weapon to the basket hilt, further forcing Raiku out of control. Having more power over the blade, and being physically stronger, Al nearly disarmed the younger but more experienced man. Raiku's face, usually tired and impassive, turned to a small frown. "Better." He murmured, quickly sliding his sword out from the push and stabbing forward. Al flung himself back, the sword crossing in front of him, and Naga barked in the distance.

"Thanks, girl!" Al shouted out. "Glad to know you care!" He slapped away Raiku's next strike, and drove forward with a pair of hard slashes. Raiku parried them both, sliding on the ice as he did so. Al held his sword high, and slashed down, hard – only to snap his blade in half. He dropped it with a huff, letting the wood splinters crackle onto the ground.

"Not bad." Raiku said. "For two weeks of practice, you're coming along swimmingly."

Al cocked a brow. "Nice to know the water tribe loves to make water puns." He said.

"Always makes quite the splash." Raiku said, chuckling. Al reached down, collecting what remnants he could. "We're done for today. Have any plans?'

"Oh, I don't know - maybe stare at nothing from the south wall for a few hours. If I feel really adventurous, maybe I'll try and listen to the elders talk about things – or maybe convince people I actually know what I'm talking about. That always goes over well."

==

Two Days Ago

"And that's how it happened." Al said, leaning back in his chair. The collection of White Lotus troops had faces of disappointment and ignorance practically drawn onto their faces.

"That's a load of mole-droppings." One of the earthbenders said. "There's no way there's a massive underground movement in Republic City – people would know."

"Yeah!" A firebender shouted. "You're just some conspiracy theorist hack."

"Completely unrealistic!" A waterbender shouted. Al simply took a sip of water, watching the argument flare up. Seems canon doesn't want to be abridged through revelation alone.

==

Raiku and Al took off through the camp, tossing the broken practice sword in a firewood pit. The various tents and pagodas of the White Lotus Compound were rather nondescript, but Al's domicile was close enough to Raiku's that they could walk together. "I still can't believe the one guy wanted to fight you over claims there's a bloodbender afoot. I remember my grandfather's stories about Yakone – and enough of them should've been told the story in training." The swordmaster said, shaking his head.

"People are stupid. It is what it is." Al replied.

Raiku looked at him. "You always say that. The phrase means nothing." Al shrugged.

"You can't change things." Al said. They turned onto the street holding the Air Nation pagoda, where Al was staying. Despite a change to thicker garments, Al still looked like an Air Acolyte. Raiku was dressed in the thick parka of the southern tribe, and looked especially comfortable amidst the gently falling snow. "There's wisdom in it – my family always said it. Car broken? Mean boss at work? Terrible things in far away lands? It is what it is. You can't unbreak your car, you need to have it fixed. You can't fire your boss. You can't uproot your entire life to fix things in far away lands. We're all part of a system."

Raiku frowned. "It sounds like apathy." He said. "Who accomplishes anything if everyone's too busy saying they can't do things?"

"It's probably life's biggest lesson that you learn – that the only way things get done is if you make them happen." Al replied, stopping in front of the Air Nation doorway. He heard the shrieks of Ikki and the chortling laughter of Meelo. "You choose your path. Nobody else – but everyone else chooses theirs. You have only so much leeway. The rest is what it is. You play the hand you're dealt."

"Especially when that hand is losing everything that mattered?" Raiku asked. That one struck deep, and Al's eyes seemed to shrink into his head.

He nodded his head slowly. "You know what I'm going to say." Raiku nodded back.

"It is what it is." They said in unison.

"I'll see you tomorrow?" Al asked. Raiku nodded. The goaltender whirled on his heel, entering the Air Nation pagoda. The south was a cold place. A dreary place. A place Al longed for home in. At least his home was somewhere, though – Raiku's died with the Red Lotus' efforts. Which was the greater tragedy? Al was hardly sure. He had something to hope for, even as he accepted the reality. He had his small window into the real world – a small connection that he browsed through in the night. Raiku had lost it all – and had only headstones and caretakers to show for it.

Loss was something that cut deep.

Straight to the heart.

Al let out a small chuckle as he stood in the doorway. "Beware the frozen heart." He said. His head turned to see Jinora standing there.

"What's that mean?" She asked.

"Just an old folk song from home." Al replied with a laugh. That was only a semi-accurate description.

"Can you teach me?" Jinora asked.

"Born of cold and winter air-" Al began.