After returning to my room, I think intensively about escaping. I know the land, albeit the land of a hundred years ago. I can hide among the foliage, jumping from tree to tree even without airbending. However, I do not know the people that own the land. Whether Earth Kingdom or Fire Nation, as there are new colonies all along the coast of the Earth Kingdom, popping up as Fire Nation. Iroh shared this with me among our brief conversations.
I do not trust these people. I trust them as much as I trust their apparent leader, Prince Zuko. We make stops without patterns, and I am unable to tell where or why we stop. Is it because of Aang? Or because we are dogging Zhao? Is Zuko actively being hunted as he is doing the hunting?
Something akin to anxiety seeds itself in my stomach, and I find my leash as taut as the skin around my newly healed neck. I do not share this seed of anxiety with Iroh, though he has shown kindness toward me, especially in the way of food and information. Iroh has given me some ill-fitting clothes, red and black, less military like than anyone on the ship. Probably from Iroh's own storage of clothes, though he frequently wears the same outfits.
The bigness of the new trousers and tunics gives me some flow, as if the wind has helped add space for me here, in these clothes. I wrap them tightly with a belt - a strip of orange fabric from my robes, clothes that Zuko takes away from me rather aggressively.
My room is apparently very close to Zuko's and Iroh's, as I can hear Zuko's rage whenever it overflows. I can hear him leave for his practices on deck, and it never takes him long to stop by my room whenever he wants for information.
Never begging. Always tense. As if he thinks I can fight him. Well, with effort I can fight him, though I keep that hidden along with any other information he asks.
However, some information flows freely. There are still gaps in my memory, of about a week or so prior to my fleeing the Southern Air Temple. I share this with him, and he seems apologetic, almost. I tell him things that I assume are common knowledge. Where Aang is from. His age. His knowledge of airbending. Things that Zuko already knows but just wants confirmation for.
Other things, like, his destination, why he stops so erratically, I can only guess at.
"Well, we are nomads. We travel. People see us as good fortune. Maybe he hopes to bring back that good fortune."
Iroh, who was attending this interrogation, nods. He looks as if he wants to ask more about this, though he does not speak up. Zuko's mood is rather harsh, though I do not know why. His mood is likely linked to his failure at our last stop, which I could only glimpse at through my window, the crew mates returning rather drenched.
After a long silence, Zuko speaks, "Why don't you have any of the arrow tattoos?"
His words are a slap to my face. I flinch. Iroh steps forward. "Prince Zuko!" Zuko cuts a glare at his uncle, silencing him.
The temperature in the room heats up, as I keep silent for a long time. "Well? Where are they?"
"Would you rather look for yourself? Seeing if they are hidden somewhere along my body with my bending? Hmm? I don't have them."
"Why?"
"They are a sign of mastery of airbending. Obviously, I am no master. Can't you tell?"
"That explains why you're still here."
"That's your real question?"
"I didn't actually think of you for a decoy sent by the Avatar. He's a child. He's too naive to use someone like that. You've only one ill-planned escape attempt under your belt. Are you a spy?"
"I am never allowed to leave this room. How can I try to escape again when the port-hole is as big as my head? When I don't know where we are because all I see are glimpses of some great fight outside my window?" I stand, ready to fight this teenager, ready to let myself fall victim to my rage. "What do you want from me? I am not the Avatar, and you cannot turn me in for whatever reward you seek. They would ask for a demonstration of at least airbending and then we would both be fools."
Zuko flinches. I have slapped him in the face now. Iroh speaks again, but his voice is far off. There is fire beneath Zuko's eyes, and I smile, satisfied. I have never been truly rendictive. Revenge is a two-headed rat-viper. We will both fall. But, I want to fall. And, if I fall, I will gladly bring this child down with me.
After a long stare down, Zuko cuts his gaze away from me. I have won this small showdown. "Uncle, she is yours. I no longer have use for her."
Truly, Zuko does not speak directly to me again. My satisfaction grows, overwhelming the seed of anxiety within my stomach. I watch the coast with envy and anticipation. I prepare myself for a run that will one day occur. The majority of the time, my door is not locked. I am guarded, sure, day and night, but I am not kept below deck.
With Iroh, I listen to the wind and allow it to dance me across the deck, sea wind pushing and pulling me toward some sign of freedom. Freedom. I feel that I am close to leaving, though the anticipation is the one that is building and not my actual escape. I have not seen a glimpse of my staff since I was taken, but I am less worried about it. I know how to make one, and I cannot use it to glide if I cannot bend.
Iroh allows me silence at times, when Zuko has finished his own practices and I am allowed to mediate. Chakras deal with the flow of energy and go hand-in-hand with bending. Or, at least, that's what the monks taught. Blocking one is like blocking the flow of the stream. Everything gets stopped up, and bending ebbs with the flow.
I imagine this is the main problem with my bending, though mediating and looking at my state of mind is unhelpful. Each and everyone is blocked, and no amount of rethinking will help it. The place I am in physically stops me from moving forward spiritually.
Leaning forward onto my legs, I exhale loudly. I am exhausted by this hope that is here, even when everything is blocked up like rocks in the stream. I do not share these thoughts with anyone else, but I do keep my meditation to my room, infrequently. A part of me gives up, at least until I escape.
I am allowed supervised deck visits, in which Iroh or a guard will watch over me as I either stare longingly into the ocean or practice some airbending moves without the actual bending part. Sometimes, if he is free, Zuko will watch. But those times are few and far between, and I would much rather have no deck visit than be watched under his fiery gaze.
Today, Iroh and I share a cup of tea, and I am quiet. Whenever Iroh supervises me, he makes a pot of tea and we chat or sit and mingle in our own minds. Afterwards, I step off to practice, keeping my body in motion to steady my mind, while he reads a romance story or plays his elemental tile game. Today, however, he is rather chatty.
"The Air Nomads were a people that believed in balance and spirituality. When we move through the world, we do so with each element around us. Even if we can only bend one element or none, they are all still connected to us. To each other."
"Everyone born into the Air Nomads was taught to airbend," I say, not looking at him, my back straight, my eyes watching the afternoon clouds brush past the sun. It is chilly. "I used to have the belief that bending, all of it, is spiritual. That if you put yourself to a specific spiritual thinking, you could bend any element, though not at once."
"Do you still believe that?"
I look down at my hands, at my inability to spiritually connect with my inner self. My true self. "I don't really know anymore. It would be easier to say no, wouldn't it?"
"It would."
After a while of silence, I stand and take a moment to stretch. The cold air and the bumpy sea makes my body ache, though in ways I am eerily familiar with. I move over to the side of the ship, to where the air feels the freshest, the hardest, to where I feel more in control of something I do not have control over. Behind me, I hear Iroh pulling out his tiles while he waits for me to finish practicing.
Clearing my mind, letting my breath become one with the wind, I stretch my arms out in front of me, bare feet sliding easily against the smooth metal below. Eyes closed, I move with the wind, embracing it in a fluid dance, allowing it to push and pull me across the deck. It is in these moments, these times in which the air and I are one again, that I forget what I have lost and what I have blocked away, hidden in a chakra that will not allow me to unlock.
However, as always on this ship, the moments never last long. Iroh clears his throat, loud enough to break my revere. I slow, opening my eyes, but do not stop. It is with the wind holding me in a waltz that I see curiosity in Zuko's eyes, even from a distance. He is soaking up every placement of my feet, of my hands, of the way the air moves against my hair.
"Yes?" I ask, twisting, turning, bending. He wants me to stop, to give him respect for his princely designation. However, there is a bitter seed buried within me that will not allow him the courtesy.
"Will you teach me?" he yells. Grating against the brilliance of the wind. Of the flow and the calm.
"What would I teach you? Airbending?" I scuff, voice even. How can one that cannot airbend any longer teach airbending to a firebender.
"Earlier, Zia, you said that you believed all bending was spiritual. I believe that each nation, each element, cannot exist without the other. Without air, fire would not exist. Without water, there would be no plentiful earth. Wouldn't this be a good opportunity to demonstrate that balance between air and fire?" Iroh asks, taking his eyes off his tile game to look at me, eyes piercing me in much the same way that Zuko's curiosity had.
I stop my dancing in front of Zuko, gazing at him, preparing him for my blunt question. "Would you rather learn the embarrassing way, or the way that will not stick with you?"
"I don't get embarrassed." He crosses his arms. I shrug.
"That wasn't an answer. So you won't get a choice. Come, away from Iroh so you don't fall on him." I wave him over, closer to the middle of the ship. He mumbles something about not falling. I stand about five paces away from him, and I can smell his crispness, his soap, with the air. "I don't care if you use firebending or not. I just don't want you to burn me, do you understand?"
He nods but doesn't say one way or another if he will bend, but his eyes flicker to the burn on my neck. I don't actually plan on teaching him, more hoping to embarrass him than anything else. However, I do not share this. Iroh sits at his table, eyes on us, arms crossed. I hold my hands out, one closer to my body than the other.
"You can start, if you want. Just act like we're fighting." That I am the Avatar you prize so much, I think.
He steps forward, stride long to match his physique. I let him get close, arm coming out to punch me. I step to the side, feeling the wind around me though I no longer control it. His eyes follow me, my steps gentle, most of my balance on my toes. He stands solidly, both feet firm on the ground.
I watched him fight General Zhao once, from a distance. Iroh coached him on breaking Zhao's root, his stance, which seems important to the basics of firebending. When fighting others, it is ultimately his downfall, especially fighting Aang. A lot of the techniques I know are all about turning someone's strength against them, their own movements bringing them down.
This is exactly what I use with Zuko. He lunges, I step back, overextending himself. He goes for a punch, I slide under him; he presses forward, I step right in between his reach, using his own momentum to throw him over my shoulder.
He slams hard onto the ship. I smile down at him, holding a hand out to help him up. Zuko scowls, slapping my hand away, standing up himself.
"Zuko. Zia," Iroh says from afar. He can feel the tension from there.
"You're supposed to be teaching," Zuko sneers at me.
"You rely too heavily on staying rooted to the ground," I sneer back, clenching my hands. "Airbending is all about being fluid, about dancing with the wind. That's what you were interested in, isn't it? How I moved earlier?" He nods. "Well, feel the wind. It is just like feeling the sun beating on your back. It is an essence, just as important as the sun. Without the air flowing, we would not breathe. Try with me."
Zuko is shoeless, and he is dressed in an attire normally for his firebending practices. "Come." I wave him over to the side of the ship. "Close your eyes." He glares at me. "Trust me." More glaring, but he complies. "Do you feel how the air is stronger over here than where we just were? How it is buffering against the ship? It cannot simply go through the metal, so it must find a way around it. Air and water are very similar in that they are both adapting to change. They shape themselves to fit the space they are given."
I watch him, his eyes still closed. He holds a lot of stress in his face, and you can see it bunching up around his scar. "Relax. Put your hand forward. Move closer to the edge. I won't throw you overboard." I bring his hand over the side, where the noise of the waves is louder. "Make a fist. Feel the wind. Now make your hand flat." He does as I ask, and his reluctance feels less.
"Do you feel the difference?" Again, Zuko nods. "Now, explain the difference to me." I let go of his hand, and he looks at me, leaning against the railing. "Go on."
"This isn't helping."
"Isn't it? Didn't you just feel the air change around your hand, adapt to the obstacle that is you? Didn't you want me to teach you how to move like that? If you can't understand why it is important for you to know how air changes around us, you can't float."
I push myself forward, waving him off. I sit with Iroh, who has returned to his tiles. Zuko sulks off somewhere, and I join Iroh in his tile game, taking turns drawing different elements and setting them down. I can feel Iroh's comment brewing just like my bitter seed, but I do not speak.