Aang the Brave

Chapter Seven

Voices pulled Aang to the surface of consciousness.

A slow, silky baritone. "Would you look at that? I've never seen one up close. Spectacular."

Another voice. "Move over, lemme see."

Shuffling movement.

"What do you think it means to him? Is it a mark of shame or of honor? A reward or a curse?"

"What're you—a poet? It means he's an Airbender."

A sigh. "I know that."

"I didn't know they did it to kids." Fingers prodding his forehead.

"Stop that. You're going to wake him up. "

Taking his cue, Aang opened his eyes. "See?" said the baritone smugly. And then, "Welcome back, my boy."

He sat up and the bed shifted underneath him. A hammock, he realized, one of six in the small room. A lantern swung on the ceiling above his head, the only real source of light. The whole room moved up and down; he'd grown accustomed to the rocking waves.

Two young men sat on either side of him, both of them dark skinned and blue eyed, their long hair twisted and beaded. Water Tribesmen. The one who had welcomed him sat on his left. He looked older than Yuka or Li, but this face was round and babyish, with bright, narrow eyes. He didn't look like that deep voice should come from his throat, and he definitely didn't look old enough to call Aang "my boy."

The other one spoke. "Hey, it's about time you woke up. How the hell are you?" This one definitely looked older. His face was thinner and he had a real beard; Li would've been so jealous. And he was eating something; Aang was jealous.

"Hungry," he answered.

The man took another bite from whatever it was he was eating and offered it to Aang. The food was reddish brown and stringy. Warily Aang asked, "What is it?"

"Seal," he answered. "Dried, cured, and smoked to perfection."

"Oh." He'd thought he was hungry enough to eat anything, but faced with the option now he wasn't so sure. "Um, I'm sorry, but I don't eat meat."

"What?" He snatched his food away, as if Aang would infect it. "Don't eat meat? So, what do you eat—seaweed?"

"Well, I have on occasion, but I'm not crazy about it." The man looked horrified.

"Don't harass him," said the baritone. "Go on and get him something else. Can you endure for a few more minutes?" he asked Aang, who nodded. "Good boy!"

The bearded guy shoved the rest of the seal meat into his mouth. He winked at Aang. "I'm telling you, you don't know what you're missing." He turned and climbed a ladder, disappearing through a hole in the ceiling.

"Please forgive Keon. He means well," the man laughed. "My name is Akama."

"I'm Aang." He stretched a little, noticing that his stomach didn't hurt so much anymore, and even his sunburn felt better. "This might sound like a strange question, but how did I get here? The last thing I remember is falling, and then...some dream," he trailed off because he doubted he was making much sense.

Akama chuckled. "How did you get here? That's still a mystery to me. You simply appeared. Born from the sea like Warra." Aang vaguely remembered the name from a lecture on stories of the Water Tribes.

"Thank you for helping me. I think you probably saved my life."

"Of course. I'm just glad we found you when we did. The sea is a dangerous puzzle—steadfast, yet ever changing." It sounded like he was reciting something. "Rest," he said.

He had a bed, he was warm and dry, he was going to get food to eat. He should have been happy, but Aang couldn't help feeling guilty. He was comfortable while the others were still miserable on Appa's back.

"I don't know where my friends are. I lost them out there," he lamented. "Can you help me find them?" Something about his statement struck Aang as odd. His friends? Where did that come from? He tested the word. Perhaps Jinju could be called a friend now, and maybe—maybe—even Li. But since when were name-calling, pushing and attempted drowning considered friendly gestures?

"No, you didn't," Akama said, his deep voice interrupting Aang's thoughts.

"I didn't what?"

"You didn't lose them. You know just where they are. When we pulled you from the water you told us." He looked at Aang curiously. "You pointed and said, 'Go this way. Exactly this way. They're waiting for me,' again and again before you finally collapsed. It was all very strange."

"I did that?" Aang asked, bewildered. "Are you sure?"

"Absolutely. You were exhausted, so I suppose you wouldn't remember. I'm sorry to say that we haven't found anything yet, but we're still searching." He studied Aang for a moment. "Thirsty?" He didn't wait for Aang's answer, but produced a long waterskin from his side. Aang took it and drank greedily, the lukewarm water soothing to his parched throat. When he had his fill, he inspected the waterskin. He'd seen one like it before, belonging to a woman at Kwita who performed tricks with the water inside. She bended the water into fantastic shapes—intricate spirals, fish, and even people—and froze them into ice figurines.

"Are you a Waterbender?" Aang asked.

"I am. And you're an Airbender," Akama replied, smiling so that his eyes were tiny sparkling slits. "Keon and I were admiring your artwork." Aang laughed; no one had ever described his tattoo as artwork before. He fingered his forehead shyly.

"I've figured out what it means," Akama announced. "It's a symbol of good fortune."

"I don't know about that. All I've had is bad luck." Nothing had gone right on this trip. And he was traveling with the only three people in the world who could make a guy wish he had hair just so he could rip it out.

"Sounds like you've got quite a story. Tell me, how does this little Airbender find himself all alone and floating on the water instead of among the clouds?"

Aang was happy to share his story, and he told Akama everything—about the sky bison polo tournament and the bison races, the blind sailor, the island, the woman with starry eyes, the daring escape, the fighting; naturally, he left out the embarrassing details. When Keon returned with a bowl of gruely, soupy something for Aang, he started his story over from the beginning. He ate as he spoke, and to his deprived tongue the bland mash was delicious.

When he finished, Aang waited for their response as he slurped up the dregs of the bowl. Keon looked at his friend, leaned back in his seat and exclaimed with a grin, "Damn!"

--

"We are here." Akama pointed with one thick finger. He'd brought the map down to Aang, and the three of them were studying it now. Like Aang's old one, it was a map of the west. He could remember approximately where the cannibal island was. They were way off course, and way off schedule. And they were separated by miles of ocean. And the sun was about to set. And, he reminded himself, I'm doing everything I can. Think happy thoughts, Aang.

He noticed the ship's course on the map, current and depth markings stretching from the South Pole to the inner harbor of the Fire Nation. "I've never been to the South Pole before. But there's an island nearby with elephant koi that you can ride on. Have you ever been there?"

Keon scratched his bearded chin thoughtfully. "Now that you mention it, I do remember seeing those giant fish from the boat. You actually ride on those?"

"Yeah, it's a lot of fun!"

"Well, I've never ridden a giant fish, but in the South Pole kids go penguin sledding. Now that's a good time. Brings back memories, doesn't it?" He looked to Akama who laughed in agreement.

"Penguin sledding, huh?" Aang tried to imagine kids careening down snowdrifts on the backs of little black and white birds. "I'll have to try that someday."

Above, on the main deck, Aang could hear more voices and movement. "What are you going to the Fire Nation for?" he asked.

Keon grinned. "Because that's where the money is!"

"What do you mean?"

"Let's show him," suggested Akama. "What do you say? Feel up to a short stroll? Walking will be good for you."

"Sure, I feel great." Aang pushed his covers off (and tried not to cringe as he noticed that they were made from some sort of animal skin) and floated himself off the mattress with Airbending. Akama and Keon laughed—people always liked that trick. Instinctively, Aang reached for his staff, and let out a little "oh!" when he realized it was missing.

"When you found me, you didn't happen to see a wooden staff around, did you?" Aang asked, hopefully.

Akama shook his head. "No, I'm sorry. Only you." Oh, well. Aang tried not to be too disappointed. If fate saw fit to take his glider in exchange for his life, then who was he to complain?

Aang was glad to go above deck. The setting sun cast a beautiful pink glow on the water, and the cool breeze was uplifting. To think that this was the same ocean that had tormented him hours before!

Besides Akama and Keon, there were only four other young men aboard, each working diligently at his task. Two Waterbenders stood at the bow, propelling the boat forward with graceful movements. They waved when they saw him, and the boat shuddered with their lapse of concentration.

His guides led him towards the stern, and Aang was surprised to see another, smaller boat pulled behind and secured by thick, masterly knotted cords. The deck was covered with stacks of tall metal drums each boasting a scratched Fire Nation symbol and strapped to the boat with netting.

He wanted to inquire about this, but Akama was already disappearing into the spacious cargo hold. Aang followed and Keon came down last, holding a lantern over his head. From the wavering light, Aang could make out the reflective shapes of dozens upon dozens of the same metal barrels. The air was heavy with a dank odor. Aang covered his nose as he followed Akama.

Akama pried the top off of one of the drums, and Aang peeked in. The smell that wafted out was disgusting. He leaped back, sputtering. Keon laughed behind him. "What is that?" Aang covered his face with both hands and took another look. The drum was full of dirty water.

"Liquid gold!" Keon announced proudly. Aang raised a confused eyebrow. "Whale oil." Aang looked again, this time noting the slippery sheen.

"You're going all the way to the Fire Nation to sell whale oil?"

"Let me explain," Akama said as he replaced the barrel's cover. "The Fire Nation is a businessman's paradise. Change is in the air. Firelord Sozin is building great cities, giving birth to new technology. Innovation needs fuel. And that's where we come in, for where does one find the finest oil?"

"From the finest whales," piped Keon. "In particular, the mighty long-horned mammoth whale."

"And where only does one find the long-horned mammoth whale?"

Aang was catching on. "The South Pole?" he guessed.

"Exactly."

"How mammoth is a mammoth whale?" Aang mused.

"Bigger than your elephant koi," Keon bragged.

"Big enough to eat a bison whole?"

"Let me put it this way," said Akama. "Your bison could swim laps in a mammoth whale's eye socket."

"Wow," Aang breathed. He could hardly imagine an animal that big. He gazed about the cargo hold. "So all of this oil came from one mammoth whale? And the barrels on the other boat, too?"

"No," Akama said. "It's impossible to capture a mammoth whale. Men have died trying. They're simply too big." He winked. "But our buyer doesn't know that."

Now Aang was really catching on. "So you lied?"

"Basically."

Aang grinned. "That is very..." he paused, searching for the right word, and settled on "sly."

Akama laughed heartily. "That, my boy, is good business."

--

As night fell, so did Aang's mood. The big lantern squeaked on its hinge, a soft yellow beacon lighting their path from the tip of the bow. Beside him, Akama and the other two Waterbenders moved gracefully against the current. Aang scoured every inch of water and tried to pierce the darkness with his eyes. He yawned and rested his forehead against the wooden rail. He thought of Jinju stranded with maniac Yuka and moody Li and sharks and whales and koi fish that could swallow a bison whole, and he lifted his head again.

--

"There!" Aang cried. "Off the starboard bow!" Six heads swiveled in the wrong direction. Flustered, he corrected himself, "I mean port!" Even from a distance, Appa's shadowy bulk was unmistakable to Aang. And was that someone waving? They were all right! They were still alive!

The deck grew lively as the Waterbenders subtly adjusted the ship's course. Aang felt lighter, as if a weight had been lifted from him. He realized suddenly just how worried he'd been. What if he'd never found them? What if they'd been hurt? More selfishly, what if he'd had to explain to the Head Monks how he'd lost one of their bison and three of their pupils?

Something rose from Appa's saddle and began to fly towards them. For the fleeting moment before he remembered that the only one left with both a glider and the ability to use it was Yuka, Aang was ecstatic. A cheer rose up as he landed on the deck and snapped his glider closed. Arms crossed, Aang refused to greet him with more than a glare, and Yuka offered little more.

"Not quite the warm reunion I anticipated," laughed Akama as he turned to Yuka. "But we welcome you, my friend."

Soon they were at Appa's side, and boat and bison drifted languidly together. Li bended himself easily up the ship's wooden side and over the railing, eliciting another round of cheers from the crew. Keon draped a friendly arm over Aang's shoulder. "You tell me, what are the chances of finding four Airbenders in one day? That's just the kind of luck we needed. And all thanks to our little lucky charm," he said, kneading Aang's head with his knuckles.

Clutching his staff, Jinju tried to imitate Li. He jumped and twirled but came up short with each try and was left scrabbling at the planks like a mouse as he fell. "Well, three and a half ain't bad," Keon said, shrugging. "Somebody throw him a rope."

Aang groaned, embarrassed for Jinju. "No, I got him." He leaped over the rail and, featherlike, fluttered to the saddle.

Aang couldn't see his face clearly in the dark, but his voice sounded defensive. "It's a lot harder than it looks."

"Yeah, you're right," Aang lied. It was simple, basic Airbending; babies could do it! "First of all, hand me your staff—it's just getting in the way," he instructed. "Now do what you did before, but don't kick your legs, and push down with your arms. Ready?" Jinju crouched. "Jump!" As he leaped, Aang used the staff to create a pillow of air and give him the extra boost he needed to reach the rail. The crew pulled him over and another joyful roar filled the night. Aang followed him up.

"Well done, my boy!" Akama congratulated, pounding Aang's back so roughly that he stumbled forward. "Your friends are safe." He turned to the crew. "A celebration! In honor of-" But he didn't get to finish, because at the word "celebration" such a loud cry went up that even Akama's explosive voice could not overpower it.

Aang peeked over the railing at Appa, and imagined his belly barnacle-encrusted and pruney from the salt water. He tugged on Akama's sleeve to get his attention. "Do you think there's room for one more?"

--

Aang was no expert, but even he would use the word "galley" loosely to describe the room to which they'd been taken. It was almost as cramped as the sleeping quarters. There was a delicately carved whale-bone table, out of place in these rugged surroundings, more stacks of oil-filled drums, and other crates and containers from which soupy gruel and stale bread was served to the three starving Airbenders.

They sat across the table from him, and Aang struggled to contain his laughter as he watched them shovel food into their mouths. Had he looked that crazed when he ate that afternoon?

From the head of the table Akama boomed, "Your attention." Instantly the room fell silent and all eyes turned to him. He lifted his cup. "A toast to the safety of our dear companions. May the spirits bless their journey. And," he motioned with the cup towards Aang, "our thanks for the fortune brought to our voyage by this brave Nomad." Another loud chorus from the men. Aang beamed.

Akama took a gulp from the cup and passed it to the man beside him, who drank and passed it on to Aang. He held it in both hands and peered inside at the bubbling amber liquid. He looked up to see Li frowning at him and shaking his head, but Keon, on his other side, clapped his back with a hearty, "Go for it, kid!" so he did. It had barely touched his tongue before a shudder ran through him and he spat the entire burning mouthful back into the cup, gagging. It was awful!

Oblivious, Keon grabbed the cup from his hands and, before Aang could stop him, took a long swing and passed it to the next man. Aang cringed with every swallow. When the cup reached Jinju he only had time to sniff it before Li seized it from him and, throwing Aang an "I told you so" look, passed it to Yuka. He drained it, backwash and all. Aang couldn't watch.

Moments later, everyone had their own cup. Aang filled his with water and gargled to get the bitter taste out of his mouth. He leaned back in his seat and listened to the conversation which shifted from the selling price of whale oil to food and then off to wilder, noisier tangents. Aang heard Akama say that he had fallen madly in love with a woman at Port Fudo who could spit through the gap in her front teeth and hit a target ten feet away.

Someone said, "Just like you were madly in love with that singer from Dai?"

Akama grinned. "Yes, exactly."

"And that merchant's daughter in Yeda?"

"I haven't forgotten her."

"And what about your girl back home?"

What about them? Aang thought. Let's talk about long-horned mammoth whales. Tell me more about penguin sledding.

"Ah," Akama sighed. "I love them all, but Pania has my heart."

Someone yelled, "Bastard's hornier than a hog monkey!"

Aang smiled. Finally something he knew about! Over the roar of laugher he shouted, "Actually, I've seen hog monkeys, and they don't have horns!" He was surprised when the room suddenly fell quiet. He couldn't imagine what he'd said to command their attention so. It was really a very common mistake; people often confused hog monkeys and goat baboons.

He jumped a little when a shrill, wavering peal of laughter broke the silence, and was shocked when he saw that it was Li, holding his stomach, eyes shut tight against the tears that threatened to fall. He lowered his head to the table and banged it with a fist. It was the first time Aang had heard Li laugh in days, and he didn't think he was even capable of laughing so hard.

His laughter was contagious and the sailors howled. From across the table, Jinju caught Aang's eye. "I don't get it." Aang shrugged.

--

Once he calmed down, Li excused himself saying he was tired, and Akama led him to the sleeping quarters. Aang and Jinju followed, leaving Yuka alone with the rest of the crew. Akama kindly offered his friends' hammocks for them to sleep in. Even after his two impromptu naps that day, Aang was tired. But as he swung in the hammock, staring at the dark ceiling, his mind was humming and he couldn't sleep. Careful not to wake either of his companions, he climbed out of the hammock and up to the main deck.

Besides Appa, enjoying a well-deserved rest, the deck was deserted, and besides the undulating sounds of revelry from the galley, all was quiet. Aang climbed onto the rail and sat with his legs hanging over the side. It was a cloudless night, and he let his mind wander as he watched the swaying reflection of the stars.

He leaned forward and tested himself to see how far he could go before vertigo made him pull back. It was a pretty long way down to the water. He swung his feet. If one of his shoes fell off, he would let it sink. Maybe it would wash up on some distant shore and someone without shoes would find it and put it on. But what good was one shoe; either for him or the shoe-finder? He decided that if he lost one shoe he would drop the other in, too. What were the chances that they wouldn't be separated?

Then he thought, what were the chances that after being separated from Jinju, Yuka, and Li he would find them again? Akama said he had told them exactly where to find his friends. But that was impossible; before he'd fallen he was utterly lost. All he remembered was that weird dream, and only vaguely. Maybe Akama was joking with him. Or, more likely, it was a fluke and he just happened to point in the right direction.

Whatever the explanation, he was glad to have found his friends. There was that word again—friends. Aang amended: I'm glad I found my friends. I also found Yuka because he was with them.

As if he sensed someone thinking about him, Yuka climbed to the deck, clutching a sloshing cup in one hand. He spotted Aang and walked over. Aang groaned; Yuka was the last person in the world he wanted to talk to.

He pretended not to notice when Yuka stood beside him. For a long time they said nothing, and Aang began to worry that Yuka was going to push him again. He held on to the rail a little tighter, but didn't move.

"They," Yuka said suddenly. He spoke very slowly and carefully. "Are. A. Riiiot." Aang ignored him. Yuka didn't seem to care. He leaned against the rail quietly.

Finally, when he could take it no more, Aang said, "Do you want to know what I did today?" He didn't wait for an answer. "I'll tell you. Today I woke up in the middle of the ocean. It was a nice day so I sat in the sun for a while. Then I took a swim. Then I sat in the sun some more. Then I realized that I forgot to eat or drink, so I went to find some food and water. I got lost on the way to the market, but I didn't give up. I just kept going and going and going until I just couldn't go anymore and I fell. I went swimming again. Then I started drowning, and I died. But I came back to life. I was at the market, so I decided to bring it all to some people without food. So I did." He took a breath and added, "The end."

"What are you trying to say?" Yuka asked.

"Nothing," Aang answered innocently. "I just thought you'd like to hear it. Pretty good story, huh? I hope you weren't worried about me while I was gone. Dying's not so bad. You just fall asleep and have a weird dream. Doesn't even hurt."

"Don't be a smartass. What are you trying to say?"

He threw his hands up in frustration. "Oh, I don't know. Maybe a 'Thanks for risking your life to save us, Aang'. A 'Sorry for trying to kill you earlier, Aang' would be nice." Yuka stared into his cup as if it held all the secrets of life. "You don't even hear me."

"I heard every word," he answered without looking up. "I'm not sorry."

"I know." Aang leaned forward again until he had butterflies in his stomach and his muscles tensed involuntarily. Yuka tilted his cup until a drop gathered on the rim, grew, and fell into the sea. He closed his eyes and tilted his head as if listening for it to plunk into the water.

Suddenly his expression twisted from serenity to anger. "I can't stand you," he hissed. "I can't stand you people!"

Something inside him snapped and Aang pulled back, sitting straight. "What! I didn't do anything. I'm just sitting here. Jinju and Li are asleep! We're not doing anything to you so what's your problem?"

"You don't get it."

"I don't get you! You really are crazy!" Am I trying to get beat up?

But Yuka didn't lash out. He stared into his cup. When he finally spoke, his voice was so quiet that Aang could barely hear him. "You remember the blind sailor from that story?"

"Yeah."

"He was smart."

Not following Yuka's thinking, Aang just said, "Okay."

"What if he hadn't gone?"

Aang tried to remember the story. "You mean if he hadn't gone into the forest?" Yuka nodded. "Then, I guess, he wouldn't have gotten hurt and his friends wouldn't have been killed. And he could still be a sailor and go all over the world like he used to. He'd have a happy life." After a moment he added, "He made the wrong choice."

"But he chose," Yuka said with such intensity that Aang's breath caught in his throat. He lifted the cup to his lips, but his words still hung in the air, fluttering like moths. Maybe it was the way the stars twinkled on the ocean, making the ship seem to float on the universe, or maybe it was the drunken lilt in his voice, but Yuka's words lived.

Aang leaned forward again, holding on to the rail, and dared himself to let go.


Note: No physical harm to Aang in this chapter, he deserves a rest. And thank you all for the kind reviews!