Aang the Brave
Chapter Two
When news of Avatar Roku's death spread, the reactions were varied. While the rest of the world mourned, the Air Nomads struggled to keep their excitement respectfully subdued.
The Nomads were known for their large families. In fact, it was common for a single family to engage two or three bison when the urge to move came over it. The explanation for the Nomads' natality: every mother's hope was to bear an Airbender. It was an honor and privilege (not to mention status-booster) for the family of a bender to present the child to the Air Temple where it would be trained and raised. Imagine their excitement when these mothers learned of their chance to pay a service not only to the temple, but to the world - even to the very balance of the universe.
After Roku died, hundreds of mothers began to see their newborn babies with fresh clarity. Of course, they were still precious little darlings but...Have you ever noticed that curious look in his eyes? It's almost as if he knows something that no one else does...She hardly ever cries, isn't that strange? All my other children wailed like demons...When he was born, I just knew that there was something different...
Probably the only one who had not seen any blinding flashes of light, or had any prophetic dreams, or heard any voices from the spirit world was a woman to whom having babies was nothing new and who considered the timing of the child's birth as simple coincidence. She already had six children, and not a single bender. She expected nothing special from the seventh except that, hopefully, it would be the last. Her family was temporarily settled near a small town in the southern Earth Kingdom when the child was born – a healthy boy, two arms, two legs, hands and feet attached properly. He was nothing exceptional until three days after he was born, when two of his brothers decided to have a contest – who could make the baby cry first?
Imagine their surprise when the infant's agitated cries not only knocked the boys onto their backsides, but nearly blew the family's little tent right out of the ground. "There's one for the temple," his mother said. And later she would brag, "The boy was practically born bending."
But, that's another story.
They left at sunrise the next morning. For about an hour they flew North over the Petola mountains, and Aang watched Appa's shadow twist and mutate on the jagged ridges. Low clouds hugged the mountain range below them and the sky above danced with bold yellows and pinks and shy blues. Gradually the tall peaks sank into plateaus and foothills and then to beach, and soon the sea flooded endlessly before them, dazzling orange and too bright to look at.
Aang sat comfortably on Appa's head with the reins looped loosely around his hands. He was sure that Appa knew the way and Aang really wasn't doing much steering, but there was nothing else to do. As soon as they were in the air, Yuka had put his claim on the back of the saddle, sprawled out, and gone back to sleep, all the while muttering about waking up so early. Jinju was quick to follow, much to Aang's pleasure. And, just behind him, Li was busy with his morning meditation. Reluctant to disturb any of his companions, Aang busied himself by daydreaming about the races.
"Who was that kid who came in first last year, Appa? What was his name?"
Appa grunted.
"Yeah, I forget too. Think he'll be back?"
Appa snorted.
"I hope so. We'll be ready for him this time, won't we?"
Appa huffed.
The kid who won last year's race wasn't from the temple. In fact, two out of the top three winners had been non-benders. They probably had more time to train during the year, Aang guessed, since they didn't have to focus on learning Airbending. He didn't mind living at the temple; he couldn't imagine not living there. But sometimes he wished he could spend more time doing things he liked, instead of always being busy with practice or math lessons or kitchen duty. He was always glad when vacation times came around, especially the long break during the summer.
"Hey, Aang." Li's voice drifted down from the saddle, pulling Aang from his thoughts. He twisted around to face the older boy.
"What's up?"
"Let me take the reins for a while, so you can meditate."
"That's okay. I'm so excited I probably couldn't concentrate anyway. I can't wait to get to the Northern Temple. It's gonna be a close game." He grinned, happy that someone was finally awake to talk to. Appa made great company, but he just didn't compare to actual people. "Do you know Juma, from the Eastern Temple? I saw his team practicing earlier this year, and they're really good. I wouldn't be surprised if they made to the championships."
"I wouldn't know," Li said. "I haven't really been keeping track." He sounded bored.
"Well, keep an eye on Juma. I think the Eastern Temple's gonna make a comeback this summer." He sighed. "Neither of our teams stand a chance, though."
Aang groaned, imagining the embarrassing defeat the Southern Air Temple was sure to experience at the tournament. They only had two teams and both of them stunk. Aang had pleaded and begged, but no one would let him play on their team – they said the was too young. It eased his mind to know that soon they'd be regretting that decision. He wasn't being boastful, but Aang knew the game inside and out.
"Well, they didn't have a lot of time to spend practicing. Some commitments are more important than sky bison polo."
Aang glanced at him incredulously. "Like what?"
"Like evaluations. I know for a fact that a lot of those guys are going to be evaluated soon. It takes a lot of effort to prepare. You should know," he added, tapping his forehead, referring to Aang's tattoo.
"I guess you have a point." Yes, Aang remembered the pressure of demonstrating endless Airbending forms and techniques with the eyes of every monk at the temple trained on him. Aang was just grateful that he had passed on the first try. "Still, if they knew they wouldn't have time to practice, they shouldn't have bothered with a team."
"There I agree with you," said Li. For a while, they flew in silence, and Aang settled back into Appa's fur. Actually, he was almost glad that the older boys wouldn't let him play; even his expertise wouldn't be enough to save them from humiliation.
Suddenly, a thought occurred to him, and Aang turned around again. "Aren't you getting ready for evaluations, Li?"
Leaning over the saddle, Li nodded. "Yes, I am."
"You nervous?"
"No, I'm not nervous! Why would I be?" he snapped. He offered no more. Aang held back another sigh. So much for conversation.
Mornings are always boring, he reassured himself. Once Yuka wakes up it'll be more fun. Aang was sure that besides having some incredible stories to tell, Yuka would be able to hold an intelligent discussion on the intricacies of sky bison polo.
As it turned out, Yuka was interested in the squash and nothing else.
It was a little after noon, and Aang had decided to let Appa rest in the water while the four boys ate lunch. The combination of rolling waves and Appa's heaving breaths made the saddle an unsteady table. As he stuffed golden slices of summer squash between the bread that Monk Gyatso had baked especially for the trip, Yuka kicked away wayward star apples and marbles.
"Iths ah ina wiff, Ank," Jinju instructed around a mouthful of sandwich. Politely, Aang tried not to grimace as wet flecks of chewed squash sprinkled the saddle.
"What did you say?"
Jinju swallowed. "I said, it's all in the wrist. Watch." He plucked another marble from his pouch and inspected it for a moment in the sunlight. Red flakes littered the inside of the glass sphere. Aang recognized it immediately; it was one of the marbles he had lost to Jinju. That one came all the way from the Fire Nation – he'd won it from his friend Kuzon.
Jinju tucked the marble expertly above his thumb. His elbow jutted out, and Aang watched his wrist carefully. He gave it a few test flicks – in, out; in, out – before letting the marble fly. It coasted the saddle, swift and straight, and bounced off of Yuka's knee. Yuka glared, but Jinju didn't notice.
Jinju turned to Aang. "You try."
Aang mimicked Jinju's demonstration with the only marble he had left: his trusty black shooter. Elbow up, loosen the wrist – in, out; in, out – and let it fly! It flew – off course, and too high, and would've plummeted into the ocean had Yuka not raised his hand and caught it out of the air. "Practice is over," he said, frowning.
"Good plan," said Li, tossing an apple core over the side of the saddle. "We should start cleaning up. It's time for afternoon meditation."
Jinju let out a loud groan. "Do we have to?"
"Do we have to?" Li echoed. He knotted his brow. "Of course we have to. It's time!" He pointed up, and the three boys gazed skyward. Aang shielded his eyes. The noon sun boasted its brilliance, and the heat would have been intolerable were it not for the steady ocean breeze. It was time for afternoon meditation, but...
"Who cares?" Yuka finished Aang's thought.
"It's not a big deal," Aang added, shrugging.
This time, Li directed his disapproving ogle at Aang. "I'd expect that from him-" he pointed at Yuka, who scowled, "-but you should know better. You're supposed to be setting an example."
"I am?"
"Yes!" He took a long breath. "Being a master Airbender means more than...mastering Airbending. It means more than passing a test. It takes dedication. Constant dedication. And I know meditating may seem like a small thing, but it's very important. Otherwise the monks wouldn't stress-"
"We're not at the temple now. Your rules don't apply. So, enough lecturing, lemur head."
Li rolled his bug-eyes at Yuka. "You would say that. At the rate your going, you'll be retaking evaluations until you're eighty."
"Not a problem. Watch this." Yuka held his hand out. Aang's shooter was balanced on his open palm. He placed his other hand on top, so that the marble was sandwiched between them. Then he pulled his hands apart quickly, leaving the marble suspended in the air and zipping around in tight loops.
"Wow!"
"Awesome!"
"Aren't you brilliant?" muttered Li.
Yuka said, "I can do this, and I can use this." He let the marble fall into his palm and motioned toward the staff by his feet. "That's all the Airbending I need." He tossed the marble back to Aang.
"It's just a dumb trick," Li said, unimpressed.
Aang copied Yuka's movements. Palm flat, sandwich, and lift! The marble made a single loop, then shot wildly forward. Yuka caught it again, just before if fell overboard. He smirked at Li. "Even the prodigy can't do my dumb trick." Aang didn't know whether to take it as a compliment or an insult.
Li shook his head, casting a pitying look at his three companions. "Do what you want," he said, "just don't bother me." With that he crossed his legs, and bowed his head, fists locked together – meditating stance. He wouldn't be budging for at least half an hour.
Yuka turned to Aang. "You want to see that trick again?"
Aang nodded enthusiastically. "Sure!"
"Get this monster of yours in the sky, and I'll show you how it's done."
Aang didn't waste a moment. He hurried to the reins, and with a quick "yip yip!" they were off.
