Fire.
Air.
Water.
Earth.
When Avatar Roku was a boy he lived a life of peace inseparable from his best friend, the crown fire-prince Sozin. The two were inseparable, sharing a deep bond which seemed strong enough to weather through any storm.
Then everything changed during the pairs sixteenth birthday.
Upon learning of his destiny, Roku left behind all his worldly possessions to train the Avatar cycle like countless generations before him. Never to look back at the friend he left behind. Sozin waited for his friend to respond back.
But when the weeks turned to months, turned to years, resentment set in. The fire prince turned to fire lord all the while growing more and more resentful at the other three nations who dared take his friend away from him.
When Roku returned Sozin rejoiced, thinking all could go back to the way it was. Unfortunately, things were not meant to be.
The two fought over differences gained in the dozen years apart, and in a moment of past love, Roku spared him.
Decades passed until one night the volcanic island Avatar Roku lived on erupted violently without warning. He fought with all the combined might of the elements he spent a dozen years learning, and a dozen lifetimes mastering. But still it was not enough.
Fire lord Sozin showed up after 40 years of distance and the two wrestled control of the volcano away from the critical. But when the pair was running from pyroclastic flows Sozin betrayed him, leaving Roku choking on poisonous gas, sputtering at the betrayal to his death.
A half dozen years have passed since then, and a new Avatar has been reborn into the Air nomad nation. The search goes on for whoever it is, with urgent pressure.
Whispers of the Fire nation planning something have been spreading for years. Some say the avatar cycle has been broken. That the world hangs on the precipice of a great demise. But I believe otherwise.
Despite the rising tensions from the Fire kingdom, the other three nations keep each other in balance. I believe the avatar will be found in time, and balance will be restored to the world.
"Alright children, settle down." The middle aged monk said.
Blasts of air and excited shrieks echoed around the small chamber. Toddlers dressed in orange robes ran around the room with all the barely contained energy of an excited boar-swan taking a mud bath.
The monk signed tiredly and tried again.
"Tommorow is a big day after all," he attempted, futilely, getting their attention.
As if appealing the elderly air-bender philosophy of patience to a bunch of six year olds about to begin their journey eastwards would have any effect.
If anything, it made it worse.
The small six year olds were bouncing off the walls. Excited overlapping chatter filled the room as small clusters of boys were excitedly acting out what meeting their skybison would be like — complete with over-the-top exaggerated gestures. Some of the more skilled ones were airbending gusts of air in rapid bursts others floated on, pretending to be flying bison, before falling face first onto the stone floor.
They were, after all, six year olds.
Some had stamina, even nuance for the more skilled ones. But it would be a few years until they had any real endurance, and years still after that until any achieved the level of basic mastery needed to earn their blue.
Monk Charu saw a pair of trainee's sync their breathing together, combine their breeze into a sustained push, and keep another excitedly shrieking boy aloft for several seconds before destabilising and causing him to careen shooting at a wall.
He signed.
...was that someone shooting across the ceiling upside down on a spinning wind ball?
Actually, you know what?
Nevermind.
He didn't even want to know.
How could Master Gyatso convince him babysitting was a good idea when there was research to do?
The monk tiredly rubbed at his face.
He was really getting too old for this...
"Have you children ever heard the story of why the Eastern Air temple is the most spiritual?" He suddenly said with an idea came to mind. The true tale would be too dangerous to tell, but surely a story might keep them occupied?
Evidently, this was so far from the chiding the air acolytes expected, that a handful actually stopped their relentless running to think of an answer.
"It just.. is?" One boy hesitantly said.
He was a bit taller than the clustered few around him, but not by much. Smoothly shaven bald head, like each of them, shone in the dimming light of the open chambered room, reflecting the last flecks of fading sunlight. Insects could be heard chirping outside and a blanket of stars already hung heavy over the moonless sky.
A sea of curious grey eyes looked expectedly at him. Then at the monk. Then back at the boy.
"Ah," Monk Charu began, brows furrowed with interest towards the vividly jade eyes looking back.
Curious.
They were earth-bender green.
Damn the bastard.
Gyatso really knew how to cash in on a bet. Years of waiting, quite honestly expecting to have Gyatso have forgotten that naive boasting bet back when he was his student...
Damn him.
"That doesn't answer the question." Charu smiled, glad to have finally found something to engage the kids attentions. And hopefully, settle them to sleep.
"Remember, what is the first rule of dealing with trickster spirits?"
"Always look out for logical inconsistencies," the group droned out in a monotonous cadence. The answer beaten into their head. Much like him when he was a boy. With a literal drum beat at that.
They blinked together as one as if shaking the daze from their skulls. Charu almost chuckled — briefly — for a moment. He certainly remembered what a pain logic and literature lessons were like when he was their age!
"So why is the Eastern Temple the most spiritual one then?" Another boy asked.
"Shut up Aang!" The first boy hissed at his friend, face flushing with embarrassment.
"What!" He playfully shoved the first boys side. "I'm just curious Lee, don't act like you're not too!"
The room devolved into chatter once more, each acolyte loudly voicing their theories to their closest friends.
Spirits above, why are you testing me? Charu though, gazing vaguely at the heavens.
Seeing no one was many any attempts of settling down the monk cleared his throat while flaring his chi. The overly loud stage-whisper-thats-definitely-a-shout like polite cough reverberating around the room snapped the trainees out of their chatter, forcing all eyes on him. A sea of blushing faces, some scratching the back of their heads, others picking a hole in the smooth floor fidgeted around him.
The monk signed.
At least they had the decorum to look embarrassed.
The sun had set beyond the horizon at this point. A slight chill had set in as the wind lulled with the passing of the light. No clouds were in the sky tonight and a sea of stars twinkled and shined on the mountain temple over the clouds.
Despite not having even a candle for light or warmth, it was bright enough where all could see. The boys had settled down on the floor, some putting their feet into their sleeping bags, excitedly sitting down as they could smell what's coming.
A story.
"The tale I have to tell has taken me years of painstaking personal research." Monk Charu began, face unusually serious. "It is not something I can tell lightly, or without consequence."
As if sensing the gravity of the tale yet to come, the boys clustered closer together, jutting chins and chests outs bravely.
There is a certain energy in seriousness, depending on the range. A teacher wanting a class to behave during a literature lecture with a holier-than-thou snobbishness has a serious facade, but it is ultimately false. Useless.
Then there is another level entirely.
Complete and sincere truthfulness.
Without subtleness.
Only with sincere regard.
The kind battlefield vows are made from.
Choking bloody breaths at your deathbed.
Not of being treated as a Master and a student, but as fellow Airbender to Airbender.
"Your teachers will likely not want me to tell it to you." He continued. "Many of them do not believe it themselves, despite the evidence I have found to the following."
"It is a dark tale," the monk continued, "one which does not end well."
Complete silence hung on his every word.
The ragtag group took small ragged breaths, like the wind beneath the silent beating wings of a bat swooping overhead.
"Only if you all agree to share the risks with complete sincerity will I tell it to you."
"What risks?" The grey eyed boy asked. Aang was his name?
"Should you ever encounter a Dark spirit who knows you posses this knowledge," the monk began, "they will most likely try their best to harm you."
Stunned silence followed.
Sputtered guffaws broke it.
"Pfffftttt." The boys robes were overtly loose and deliberately styled.
Ah. . .
. . . a rule breaker.
And deliberately rude at that.
"As if!" He continued. "He's just trying to make something sound amazing! I bet you've got no proof at all!"
The rude ones chest stuck out proudly, as if he had triumphed by proving something wrong and thus winning over the visiting master. The group around him spent less than a moment pondered over his words before deciding that yeah, he was right. A story so dangerous knowing it could bring you harm?
As if.
Monk Charu's impassive face shattered their celebratory mood as sharply as fine china shattering after falling from a cliff.
Without a word, and keeping eye contact, he slowly pulled up the bottom half of his robe, showing his bare left leg from the knee down.
The shocked gasp alone was worth it.
From the knee down Monk Charu's leg was not human.
Thick fox fur densely spread down the leg ending in a soft paw. Any thoughts the sight in front of them was somehow not real were vividly dismissed as the monk stretched his toes, cracking the joints with a relaxing grumble.
"W-what is..." the rude one sputtered, finger pointing.
"—that?" Monk Charu finished."You heard the thunk and likely though it was a peg, huh?" Charu asked the boy, who could only mutely nod in agreement. Mouth gaping wide with disbelief at the sight his eyes were telling him was real.
"Spiritual possession of a physical form can fuse aspects if both spirit and body are not asynchronous."
A crowd of bulging eyes bigger than crow-toads stared at him.
"It is my suspicion that process is what lead to all the animal hybrids myself," Monk Charu pondered, "clearly it is the only reason considering natural hybrids haven't been seen anywhere. You'd think there'd be some tale from a breeder or pet store after all. Why, when I'd travelled to the far north in search of a sparrow-chicken of all things—"
"— Why would you tell us then?" The green eyed airbender asked, practically muttered, hugging his knees to hide his face. Somehow suddenly seeming much older than his years. "If the knowledge is so dangerous."
Green eyes were a sign of earth-bending.
Or more specifically of conflicting Yin & Yang chi.
The eyes were the window to the soul, and chi, above all, determined the shape of those windows. And through, that raw unpolished potential.
Everything in the realm was chi.
Spirit and matter were both sides of the same. One reflecting the other reflecting the other. Metaphysical ideas brought to life through living.
From the yang of fire burning hot, to the cool detachment of yin water.
Earth bending was both yin and yang, pushing each other together.
Air was the reverse. Yin and yang running away from each other. Cold air filling the gaps left by rising heat. For an airbender to have green eyes their very essence must be in turmoil. Facing intense internal conflict, yet above all in their heart of hearts yearning to be free.
Charu had never heard of a single case of this happening.
Ever.
Not even once.
In all the scrolls in any of the lost libraries of old.
"The potential benefits outweigh the risks." The monk murmured, face as serious as stone. Cracking a grin to break the tension seeping into the room, the monk chuckled.
"Honestly odds are you'll spend lifetimes before ever catching glimpse of a Dark spirit." The crowd chuckled with tension bleeding out of them."Who knows," Monk Charu began pursing his lips, "you might even be able to do things like this."
He whistled low. The sound, instead of originating from his lips, sounded somewhere overhead.
And then behind them.
And then outside.
Ventriloquism??
"Pure manipulation—" Dual overlapping voices walked away from each other speaking in synchronicity.
"—of chi during bending—" Elder Monk Roozo's snobbish voice lectured.
"—lets you have—" A voice in 5 part harmony hummed.
"—complete control—" Dozens of different voices each spoke a syllable each.
"—of your element." Monk Gyatso's voice finished the thought. Monk Charu stroked his lacklustre moustache in a perfect Gyatso impression bringing everyone to a rolling snicker.
"Mmm... yes... " Monk Gyatso's voice continued speaking from Charu's completely shut mouth. His control was so great, the air itself lended the monk a voice. "Sometimes I stroke my moustache looking wise when really I'm trying to remember where I left my fruit pie."
The snickers escalated into full blown laughter.
"That's amazing!" The rude boy exclaimed. "Ill be able to learn that too?"
"Well, at least the potential." Charu shrugged. Very few had the capabilities or capacity for fine tune motionless chi manipulation. Theoretically everyone had the capability, but so few — so painfully few — actually had the talent and drive needed.
Complete voice manipulation via motionless airbending was a skill which took Charu over two decades to learn. That little display itself was almost the very limits of his abilities. But for the rare few...
Quickly everyone agreed.
Shouting they too would love to learn the nuances of airbending their element like that.
Monk Charu waited for the crowd to silently die down.
Clearing his throat authoritatively he began to speak.
"A long time ago, in the era before time, lived the Lion Turtles..."