A/N: So, um, it's definitely been more than two weeks, and I'm so sorry. ;-;
There's been so much going on in my life lately that it's really affected my ability to update as regularly as I want to, and honestly to write in general. My grandmother got sick right as I started writing this chapter, I broke up with my gf, and I've been working two jobs for the past three months to the point that I work every single day (thank god not both jobs every day tho). Things are hectic, but I'm trying to stay positive, and pump myself up to do the things I really wanna do, like work on this!
Also, I meant for this chapter to be way longer than this, but I've really been struggling with writing out some scenes in it. And, since it's been so long since my last update, I've decided to split it up into smaller chapters (just two chapters). I'm sorry, I hope to go back to longer, more chapter-length chapters (lol) soon. Writing's just been a bitch to me lately ;-;
Please bare with me and my irregular updates, and thank you all so much for your patience and continued support. It really makes my day everytime I get a notification that someone's written a review or favorited/followed my story. *heart*
First Lesson
The Next Morning
Genji stood in the middle of a wide, grassy field that stretched on for as far as the eye could see. The gently swaying blades of grass reminded her of a similar patch of land many miles and years away, where the air had tasted fresher than anything else and peaceful pangolows had grazed at her side. She could almost feel their warm breath on the back of her hand as she weaved her fingers through the knee-high grass. It gave her an odd feeling of being both relaxed and impossibly on edge.
Aang stood opposite her, two feet further north into the field. Where Genji was stiff and anxious, he was relaxed and aloof. He was smiling at her, clearly excited to begin their first lesson. Genji was excited, but she was nervous as well. It was her first true lesson as an airbender, and she was learning from the avatar no less. Only a fool wouldn't feel at least a bit of performance anxiety.
"Don't worry, we're just going to start with basic forms, see how much you know. We won't even do any actual bending today." Aang reassured her, seeing how tense she was.
Genji sucked in her breath in through her teeth and nodded. She'd never purposefully airbent in front of anyone before. At least it was only her and Aang in the field, as Katara and Sokka had taken Appa to scout ahead for possible Earthbending teachers. That took off some pressure.
"It's important to be relaxed when airbending," Aang explained, loosening and shaking his limbs. "You have to be free and unrestrained, like the wind."
As if on cue, a breeze gently wafted between them, tussling Genji's hair. She shivered pleasantly. It felt good to have the wind tickle at the back of her now exposed neck.
"Here, take a breath with me." Aang said, closing his eyes as he drank in the breeze.
Inhaling deeply, Genji held perfectly still, as if collecting all of her tension in that one breath. Then, just as the wind passed them by, she slowly released into a muted sigh. She could hear Aang let go of his own breath as well, soft as a whispering field mouse. The sound of it, and the feeling of her own breath falling in sync with both Aang and the wind was nice. It didn't completely erase the tension in her body, but it did help some.
Across from her, Aang nodded approvingly.
"Good! Breathing is key to airbending. Good breath control helps us stay in touch with our element, and balances out our energy.
"It also helps keep you warm! That's why I don't need a sleeping bag at night; by steadying my breath, I can stay warm through almost the coldest conditions!"
Genji's eyes lit up.
"That makes sense!" She exclaimed. "I've never liked blankets, even when I was a baby and it was the dead of winter. I just breathed slower and my body stayed warmer. I never knew that was airbending!"
"Sure is!" Aang was now positively radiating, happy to see his pupil already making discoveries. "Airbending can be as easy as taking a deep breath-"
He dramatically gulped in air, his chest and cheeks swelling to an almost inhuman capacity. He held it for a moment while Genji, eager to impress her new master, copied him. They blew out together, both creating powerful streams of wind that swirled into a single updraft in the space between them. Aang's breath had been stronger and more controlled than Genji's, but she watched, amazed, as they effortlessly merged into one dancing draft.
"-Or as difficult as creating a tornado to lift you up."
Aang dropped low at the hips, knees bent as he held his arms straight out at his sides and began to twist in a circular motion. The air started to spin around him as he shot up straight and spun his arms up above his head. Genji watched in utter amazement as he rose into a funnel, spinning with the currents in such a free, yet perfectly controlled manner that her breath caught in her throat. He laughed and kicked his arms and legs out once he'd reached a height of about twenty feet. He lingered there, then began to drop.
Genji almost gasped, afraid, for a split second, that he was going to crash. He was making no moves to use his bending to catch him. However, the air around him dissipated into a cushion that filled the empty space in Aang's clothes, turning them into parachutes. He returned softly to the ground, his shawl billowing around his shoulders.
"I don't expect you to be able to do that for awhile-for right now we'll just focus on form and meditation." He explained, smoothing out the wrinkles on his tunic.
"Can you show me how you stand when you're practicing your bending?"
Genji bowed her head and assumed her normal position: hips low, knees apart, feet firmly planted in the ground. Her arms came in front of her, palms flat with her fingers tucked neatly together. She looked poised and ready to strike, like a Widow Mantis.
Keeping a firm stance is everything in bending. She said to herself as she shifted her weight onto the back of her heels. If my stance is off-center or my confidence even the slightest bit wavering, I'll end up with smoke, not fire.
Genji's legs were stiff and straight, like tree trunks, and she felt proud of herself for not shaking. She'd expanded on her form from watching the Earthbenders in her village, mimicking their strong, rooted stance to keep from blowing herself over when she practiced (which she'd done several times before). It did feel quite heavy and unnatural, at times, but it was a strong, firm stance, and as she understood it, that was ideal for bending. She looked to Aang for approval, but found only puzzlement.
"You're standing like an Earthbender." He observed, pointing at her rigid lower half. "The way you're holding your arms and torso is nice and loose, but your hips and legs are too stiff. Remember, airbending is about being relaxed-you have to be light on your feet, not planted in the ground."
"But..." Genji glanced down awkwardly at herself. "Aren't you supposed to keep a strong stance with any bending?"
Aang laughed at that. It wasn't a cruel, mocking laugh, but a good-natured one that simply made light of her innocent mistake. It made Genji feel like she could laugh too. She didn't, but it still felt nice to hear such an uplifting sound.
"True! But a strong stance doesn't mean you have to be stiff or grounded. A strong stance is just one that improves your bending, and flows well with your element. That's all."
He pointed again to her legs. "Your stance would be strong for Earth or Firebending, but it doesn't do much for airbending. It weighs you down. Your weight should be on your toes, not your heels-"
Aang gave a swift sweep of his arm, and Genji gasped at the odd sensation of being nudged by the wind itself. Her weight shifted gently forward to press at the front of her feet.
"-that way you're always ready to dodge attack or switch directions when needed. That's a strong Airbender stance."
Genji rocked slightly from her heels to her toes a few times, feeling the difference between the two positions. It definitely felt more...natural. It was like straightening one's back for the first time after years of slouching. She settled there, her weight resting delicately forward, and waited diligently for instruction. Aang grinned, and mirrored her stance, fingers extended up with thumbs folded into open palms.
"Your palms look great, though!" He complimented, and Genji felt something akin to pride swell within her chest.
"Do you know the Eight Mother Palms?"
As quickly as she'd puffed her chest, Genji deflated with a tiny shake of her head. No, she didn't know.
"Oh." Aang's smile faltered for just a moment, in a small twitch of a frown.
It was barely a second long, his pout, but it carried a certain amount of sadness and disappointment that, despite its briefness, Genji couldn't miss. It was exactly what had happened the night before. Her chest tightened to see it, and she wondered if she should've lied and said yes. Anything to avoid that look.
She started to stutter out an apology, not sure what else to say or do, but he only shook his head with a soft smile.
"It's okay!" He chirped chipperly. "We can start there."
He led her into the beginning stance, which Genji knew from watching various benders practice over the years. They stood straight and swept their arms up, then down in a controlled, pushing motion with a careful exhalation, directing their breath through their bodies.
"Whenever we practice the Eight Mother Palms, we walk in a circle, our bodies facing the center." Aang explained. He began walking in a tightly defined circle that wasn't too large or too small, his torso turned to Genji. She watched him for a moment, then began to do the same. They fell in sync with one another, moving so that they shared the same circle, but kept distance between them.
"Good!" Aang brought the arm furthest from Genji back closer to his body, and bent the other so that his hand was raised just above the shoulder. Genji did the same. "The Eight Mother Palms are the core of airbending. You'll use at least one almost any time you airbend.
"The first is called the Single-Changing Palm. It's super simple! Watch me!"
The Avatar proceeded to demonstrate with ease the first form, which truly was simple. He merely flipped his palm down and out so that it faced Genji. The rest of the form, it seemed, lay in the placement of his arms. She easily copied the motion, to which she was rewarded with a wide smile and an enthusiastic nod of approval. Genji nearly blushed, entirely unused to having such an encouraging, positive teacher. Or having a teacher at all.
"Perfect!" Aang beamed. "Do that same motion a few more times as we move."
They cycled through the remaining seven forms, with Aang needing to do very little demonstrating before Genji was able to pick it up. She was pleased to find the forms came naturally to her, and that she'd been doing some of them on her own without even realizing it. Instinct had been a better teacher than she'd thought. Still, it didn't replace a flesh and blood master and she knew there was more work to do after this. Harder work, that she might not pick up as easily. These were, after all, just the basics.
She was already feeling herself improve, however. It was as if her very spirit was radiating with glee as she shifted through each form, flowing from Circle-Body Palm to Rotating-Body Palm and so on. They were both new and impossibly familiar, and felt worlds better than the forms she'd been practicing on her own. Her feet had never felt so light and free before. Genji closed her eyes and took a deep breath through her nose, feeling as if she'd go giddy from the sensation. Every breath felt like a revelation. Every circled wrist was a love letter to the universe.
Maybe Keemo was right. She thought, as they continued their dance. Maybe I'll finally be able to be me...Genji...the airbender...
I can be free.
Flowing through the grass, standing across from the only other airbender in the Four Nations, it was almost surreal. More than that, though, it was euphoric. She was finally beginning to walk down her own path, and she wasn't alone on it. How could she feel anything but overwhelming joy?
The Fire Nation's going to find you. A voice interrupted, hissing from somewhere deep within her heart. They're going to find you and kill everyone you love. And it's going to be your fault.
Genji's eyes shot open and her legs crossed when they should've followed behind one another, throwing off her balance. She caught herself before she could fall flat on her face, but ultimately lost her form. Aang blinked, obviously concerned with whatever had happened, but confused as to what exactly that was.
"Are you okay?" He asked, abandoning his own stance to check on her.
Realizing how odd and uncoordinated she must've looked, Genji flushed a deep red and scrambled to apologize.
"I-I'm sorry!" She blurted in an embarrassed huff. "I...um...I just...lost my balance..."
The voice hadn't been her own, and it hadn't sounded like anyone she'd known. But, somehow, it had felt almost like a memory, one she wasn't quite sure she'd actually had. She shuddered and tugged at the hem of her gloves, trying to free herself of its lingering whisper. Aang was looking at her with increasing worry, knowing that something was clearly bothering her.
"Are you sure you're alright?" He gently probed, unconvinced by her excuse. "You looked a little...well, to be honest, you looked scared."
"It's fine." She insisted a little too quickly, her voice firmer now. The last thing she wanted to do was admit to the Avatar that she'd had some sort of hallucination. He'd think she was crazy, and he'd be disappointed to know that the only other airbender in the world was a scared little girl who was starting to hear things.
Aang's face only grew more worried, his knitted eyebrows raising a little as if to ask again, Are you sure? Unable to bear it, Genji bit her lip and turned her head away, tugging on her gloves some more.
"Was it your dream?" He asked. "You know, sometimes bad dreams can carry over into the morning. I once had a nightmare that my head had turned into a Lemur-Bat's and I was forced to eat giant Buzzard-Wasps and Caterants for the rest of my life. That one haunted me for weeks! Asleep or not, I'd blink and it was like I was back in my dream, eating bugs again!"
Aang gave an exaggerated shudder, sticking his tongue out and gagging. Genji didn't laugh, although it was funny in a cute, child-like way, but she did consider what he'd said.
Maybe it was from my dream...
She kept her eyes cast aside for a moment as she mulled this over. That had to be the most reasonable explanation. However, the figure in her dream had only ever said one thing, and it hadn't at all mentioned the Fire Nation. Genji shook her head and pulled sharply on her gloves, feeling the fabric dig into the flesh between her fingers. She refused to dwell on it any longer. It was a remnant of her Swamp-Inspired nightmare and that was that.
"Yeah, that's it. It's just my dream." She muttered.
Turning back to Aang, she resumed the position of Single-Changing Palm. "I'm okay. Let's keep practicing."
Aang was more than happy to return to his role of instructor. Genji drank in his every word like a dehydrated Camel-Spider gulping down any drop of water it could find. Which, in a way, she was. She was an airbending novice who'd been deprived of a master for nine long years, until now. She was going to drink her fill of it and learn all she could.
Before long, the voice was gone. Nothing more than a faint memory, stored in the same dusty corner of her mind that she kept all unpleasant things. Whether or not it would remain there, undisturbed, Genji couldn't know. Nastiness like that had a tendency to resurface. But she couldn't dwell on that now. She had training to do.
In a town not so far from Aang and Genji's field, Katara and Sokka were perusing a rather standard array of market goods. Although they'd just purchased supplies in Genji's tiny village, most of it had been lost when they'd been catapulted into the Foggy Swamp. They'd had no choice but to retrieve more, despite their dwindling pile of money. Their journey to find Aang an earthbending teacher wasn't likely to be a short one, and certain members of their group got particularly grumpy when they went foodless.
"Really, Sokka." Katara sighed as she watched her brother hungrily eye a string of sun-dried mystery meat that hung from the street-side rafters of a butcher's shop. "We're not just here for food, you know. We're looking for Aang's teacher."
"I know that, I know that." Sokka waved her off without so much as a glance her way, already shilling out the necessary coins for his prize. "I just need a few more things, then we can move on."
It had been weeks since he'd sunk his teeth into a good, sinewy piece of jerky. Genji's village hadn't exactly been big on meat products, with the only selections being less than appetizing (their main meat products had been, to his horror, stewed Frog-Squirrels and pickled Leeches). This was the first piece of acceptable food he'd come across and he wasn't going to pass it up.
Katara frowned and snatched the coins from his hands before they could be pressed into the butcher's. Her brother gawked at his now empty palms, and watched helplessly as the butcher merely moved on to the next customer, unaware and unempathetic to the poor boy's growling stomach.
"We can't afford to waste money right now." She scolded. "We barely have enough to pay for the things we actually need."
He glowered back at her unhappily. She ignored him and deposited the coins into their satchel, where they made a rather pathetic clink. The bag disappeared back under the folds of her split skirt, where they were not likely to reemerge for another few days. Another few insufferable days of non-meat foods. Sokka would have cried, if he was prone to such boyish displays.
"We do need meat!" He protested, his voice cracking. He quickly cleared his throat, fighting an embarrassed flush that crept up his neck, and purposefully deepened his voice. "It's an important part of your daily nutrition. Of my daily nutrition!"
"Well, we've only got a few coins left and you were about to trade them all for jerky. And two of us don't even eat meat!"
Katara wrinkled her nose. "I think, at least. I haven't really asked Genji if she does or not. I just sort of assumed that because she's an airbender..."
She trailed off, suddenly unsure. Sokka shrugged, not too concerned with the dietary habits of their newest addition. As far as either of them knew, Genji was an airbender by birth, but Earth Nation by nature . Whether or not she knew or followed any Air Nomad teachings was a relative mystery. And, to Sokka, that meant she was an omnivore until proven vegetarian.
"Yeah, well, some of us can't survive off nuts and dried fruit." He countered rather gruffly.
He sighed and gave the various cuts of meat one last, longing look before reluctantly drifting away from the stall. Katara rolled her eyes, knowing fully well that while her brother's love for meat was very much real, his theatrics were not. He would, in fact, continue to survive off of nuts and dried fruit. At least until they found some more money.
"Let's just focus on finding Aang a teacher. Then we can worry about food." Katara said.
Sokka huffed, a bit more quietly now, and muttered something under his breath. Katara placed her hands on her hips and squinted hard at her brother, thinking he was still groaning about the jerky. He could be such a child sometimes.
"Mind speaking up? I didn't quite hear you over your moping, tough guy."
"I saiiid,'' he swung around to face his sister, more than happy to continue his own personal pity party. "It doesn't even make sense for us to be looking without Aang. It's his teacher. He should be here looking with us. Instead of ditching to go play air-ball."
"He's training, not ditching." Katara replied firmly. "It's the first time he and Genji have had the chance to since she joined the group. It's really important to them.
"And-" Katara continued, leaping onto her brother's next grievance before he could even open his mouth to air it. "-we're still on schedule. We find possible teachers today, Aang meets them tomorrow, and who knows, maybe he'll have a master before the end of the week. I mean, Aang already knows what he's looking for. Sort of."
Sokka raised a dubious brow. Aang's hallucination in the swamp wasn't, in his opinion, the most reliable of sources when it came to finding a master. And King Bumi's advice wasn't without scrutiny either. Bumi was, after all, a self-proclaimed mad king. Anything he said should be taken with several grains of salt.
"Yeah, well, I still think he should've come." He retorted. "He and Genji could've blasted air at each other after we found Aang a master."
Katara rolled her eyes again and groaned.
"Ugh, you're so stubborn sometimes!" She complained. "You don't know what it's like to go years without a master or to be the only one of your kind."
Katara's expression softened and her hands fell from her hips.
"It's lonely."
Just a few short months ago, she was a novice waterbender who could just manage to push and pull a small wave. She was officially a master now, but that only happened because she met Aang. If she hadn't, she would've remained in the South Pole, trying her best to teach herself a lost art that she could barely understand. She could only imagine the pain Genji had felt. How lonesome it must've been having to teach herself while fully believing that there really was nobody who could help her-that all the possible masters in the world were long dead.
"Whoa, hey-" Sokka crossed his arms and scowled indignantly. "I'm Southern Water Tribe too! I mean, I know our tribe was small, but c'mon, the rest of us aren't extinct-"
"Oh, Sokka, you know that's not what I meant!" The vulnerability and the tender memories cleared from Katara's eyes and she threw her hands up in the air. "I meant being the only waterbender in the entire South Pole! Aang and Genji are the last airbenders, and Aang's the last airbending master. We've got to give time to train!"
Sokka held his hands up defensively, somewhat afraid that he was going to receive a splash of nasty swamp water from Katara's waterskin. He'd been on the bad end of her water whip many a time before, after all.
"Whoa, whoa, ok! I take it back! They're training, not playing, and it's super important, remnants of a lost culture, yadda yadda. Just don't go all water magic-y on me!"
Katara's eyes narrowed icily, and for a moment, she strongly considered doing just that. Her thumb even hovered over the cap of her pouch, her arm feeling the energy of the water that sloshed around inside. However, she decided against it, and instead huffed, threw her nose high in the air, and strutted past him.
"Well, me and my water magic are going to find Aang's teacher on our own!" She called back to him, as she slipped down the main road that led deeper into the town. "And when I find him before you do, I'm going to celebrate by spending the last of our coins on a nice, juicy piece of fruit!"
An animalistic rumble tore at the walls of Sokka's stomach, and he clutched a hand to it. He wasn't about to lose his chance at snagging some real food. He tore off after her.
"Hey, wait!" He shouted as he caught up to her side. "What if we make a bet? The first one to find a master gets to decide how we spend the last of our money. The loser has to go find more. Deal?"
"Ha!" Katara scoffed and sneered playfully at him. "A deal you're going to lose, smart guy. You're on."
The humdrum of the market faded behind them as they pushed further into town. Neither particularly knew what they were looking for, Aang's vision and Bumi's advice asides, so their shared best guess was to look for an Earthbending school first. From there they could start whittling down their choices and pick their crème de la crème. They decided that once they found the schools (they assumed, by the decent size of the town, that there would be at least two) they'd split off from there and interview the masters on their own. Then, when they presented their choices to Aang, a winner would be decided.
What they failed to notice, as they strode gung-ho down the street, were the suspicious eyes that followed them. Vendors that had peacefully sold to them a mere few seconds ago leaned out to watch them, and whispered to their neighbors. Double-takes were taken, and pleasant smiles twisted into unwelcoming frowns. As the siblings disappeared down the winding roads that sectioned off their town, a guard was summoned and pointed their way. He consulted a piece of parchment from his hip, narrowed his eyes at the writing, and with a stiff jaw began to march after them.