Deamon – Thanks for the great compliments. I wasn't so sure about that last chapter, just because I wasn't sure what I was doing. I don't know where Jay is taking me, but as I figure things out, I'll be sure to add them in. That conversation between Aang and Jay was a little off, but I couldn't put my finger on what exactly I could have done to fix it. Patience, Grasshopper, the potion will be explained in time. It's meant to be ambiguous for now. Besides, Zuko's escape isn't the main focus of the story at this point, so I'm trying to avoid putting ideas in my readers' heads. All in good time, Youngling; all in good time. Your rattail is showing, Padowan. I really appreciate your criticism; I feel like I'm actually doing something.
sweettooth – …thanks? I kind of pride myself on my vocabulary and my wicked thesaurus skills.
aangsair – Sorry, but I will not succumb to negative reader pressure; my story is mine. Thanks, though, for the nice words.
I don't own Avatar or Lord of the Rings.
Chapter Thirteen
Aang sat cross-legged on the ground, surrounded by rocks of varying sizes and shapes, and Jay sat similarly in front of him. They had been trying for over half an hour to get Aang to be able to spin the rocks over his hands (as Haru had done) or even get them off the ground at all. The most he had accomplished so far was getting the smallest pebble to tremble a little, although he wasn't sure if this was because of his bending, or because of a sharp breeze that had rattled through them at the time.
"I don't understand," Aang said, frowning. "The other two bendings I know came pretty easily. Why does this take so much work?" He stared irately at one of the stones before him, stretching his hand over it, willing it with all his mind, body, and soul to raise itself off the ground.
"Earth is very different from Water and Air," Jay said, trying not to sound confused. It hadn't taken him very long to learn when he was a little boy and his father was teaching him. Was he doing something wrong? Why couldn't Aang get it? Jay racked his brain, forcing himself back into the past with his father's lingering memory.
"Feel the strength ebbing and flowing through you, Jay. Make it seem as though you are actually picking up the rock, when really your hand is a foot away."
"Aang," Jay said suddenly, popping himself out of a trance, "reach down and pick up the rock." Aang did. "Alright, now get a good feel for how heavy it is, what its shape is; just get to 'know' it."
Aang tossed the stone up and down in the air, then moved his thumb around it in circular motions, feeling all of the crevices and notches. It felt chalky and rough, like sandstone. He rolled it over his fingers, feeling the yin-yang balance and the complexity of the motion.
"Now Aang," Jay said, thinking that he understood what to do now, "set the stone back down where it was. Concentrate all of your thoughts on what it felt like to pick up that rock. You have to be able to feel yourself picking up the rock, even when your hand is a foot away from it."
The stone trembled a little as Aang held his hand over it. Aang closed his eyes tightly, clenching all the muscles in his fingers, and begging the rock with his mind. Just…get…in…the…air…just…lift…off…the….
But no avail.
"You can't force it, Jay. You've got to have control over the rock, and you can't have that if you're clenching your muscles. Your strength isn't going to help you here; the rock is too far away."
"You can't force it, Aang. Don't use your muscles or your thoughts, just…" Jay hesitated.
"Just believe, Jay; use your heart. Remember the feel of the rock in your hand, remember the sound of rubbing your fingers over it. You have to want that now."
"Just believe. Use your heart, not your hands."
Aang looked up at him. Use my heart? That doesn't… But he unconsciously felt the rock in his hands again, reliving those few moments. He imagined himself holding it and throwing it up and down...
All of a sudden, without warning or even realization, Aang really did feel the rock in his hand. He looked down, and saw that it had risen up.
"Jay!" Aang said brightly, his face alight with pride. "I did it!"
"And it only took you three quarters of an hour!" Jay said joyously and ironically.
"Hey!" Aang shouted, insulted. He threw the rock at the boy, who caught it and threw it back. They laughed, throwing rocks, leaves, sticks, and even Momo at each other. Aang felt very successful, and Jay felt very proud. Aang couldn't remember the last time he had played with someone his own age
"Come on, Avatar, we've got a lot more work to do."
"We'll look to the west," Sokka said in an insulting tone, rolling his eyes, which were facing down.
"What?" Zuko asked, throwing his arms up in frustration. He stopped walking and stared at the (slightly) younger boy. "Katara was going east, and I didn't think you wanted me anywhere near her, so I suggested we go the opposite direction. What's wrong with that?"
"Nothing, except that we're lost!" Sokka said, straightening up and staring down the (slightly) taller boy. "We could be anywhere on the island, we can't see the sun to find direction, we have no supplies, and I'm alone with you!"
"If I'm remembering correctly, you were all for going this way before," Zuko retorted, crossing his arms.
"I think your memory is wacked."
"I don't know, maybe it is," Zuko said, looking almost sincere. "But if it is, it's because you forgot to clean those cuts on my neck!" All sincerity gone.
"For one thing," Sokka said defensively, "I was under no obligation to clean your stupid cuts in the first place. For another thing, I did not purposely forget. I don't want to kill you; your sudden demise would just be a perk."
"Oh, I can see we're going to be great friends, Sokka," Zuko said sardonically. He had never said Sokka's name out loud before.
"That wasn't my initial plan, Zuko. You're just here because Aang and Jay didn't want you to die. I'm here helping you find this stupid plant because my sister is a nutcase with a conscience."
Zuko stopped talking, and thought for a moment. "What exactly is 'bee balm'?" he asked, inadvertently changing the subject and catching Sokka off his guard.
"It's…uh…it's a red flower that looks like a sun burst. We can squeeze the juices out of it and onto your neck. Why?"
"Have you been looking for it at all?"
"No, I find it amusing and enjoyable to take long strolls through the woods alone with Fire Benders when ever I get the chance," Sokka said scathingly.
"I haven't," Zuko said, ignoring Sokka. "We could have seen hundreds of blossoms by now and I never would have noticed; I didn't even know what they looked like." He was panicking slightly; if they didn't find this flower, he would get very sick.
"We haven't seen any," Sokka assured him insultingly.
"Have you even been paying attention? You've been complaining almost the whole afternoon about having to go with me. You spent at least fifteen minutes prophesizing about how I was going to get us lost. I doubt that you've even seen anything on this little excursion, let alone bee balm."
Sokka looked loathingly at him, resenting his doubt. "Of course I have, you little—"
"We have to find that plant, Sokka!" Zuko said, trying to avoid another argument; it would just prolong his own departure. It was getting darker under the canopy, and the colors of the brush were hardly discernable from each other. Zuko looked down and scanned the forest floor, running off away from Sokka in whatever direction he could, with no sign of his quarry, save what dead leaves could tell.
Suddenly, whether out of stress and panic or out of actual sensation, Zuko felt the back of his neck grow searing hot. He felt his blood pulsing thickly through his wounds as his heart beat faster to keep up with his running. He began to see spots before his eyes (though they were hard to make out in the impending dark) and his breath came in short gasps.
"Sokka," he tried to yell, but it came out in hardly a whisper. What was happening to him? How could an infection do that to him? Why was he so…weak?
"Zuko?"
"Sokka…I…"
But he knew no more.
/chapter thirteen