Note: Hello everyone! So sorry for the long wait--I was bad! But here's the new chapter, hope you enjoy it. And thanks, as always, for the kind reviews!
Aang the Brave
Chapter Eight
There are as many theories about how the world began as there are riverside villages with wise elders and cities with scientists. But the wandering gypsies claim they know the truth, and their's is a story that passes from the mouths of the Old Men to the minds of those who cross paths with their caravans.
It began with a woman who desired nothing more than a family, children who would love her and care for her when she grew old. Finally, she became pregnant and her belly grew round and swollen until she gave birth. She became Mother first to the sun, and then to the moon and stars. Lastly, Mother brought life to her four favorite children, the ones who loved her most. Peaceful Water, strong Earth, fierce Fire and gentle Air. She made a home for them on her swollen belly, the world.
Mother's children lived happily in the world for some time but, like all children, they soon grew bored. So together they devised a plan. They wanted to create toys to play with—people—and asked Mother for permission. She was delighted and watched her children work. Water's people rose from the ocean. Earth carved its people from a great mountain. Fire's people sprung from a raging volcano, and Air's floated down from the sky. When all of the people were made, Mother gave them life.
As the years passed, the four element children happily watched their people grow and start families. But all too soon, something terrible happened. The people began to die. Horrified, the children asked Mother why their people were dieing.
"Death," she explained, "is part of life, just as you, my children, are part of me. Death is the weight that keeps the cycle of life balanced. It is eternal. You must understand this, my darlings, and you must understand that people cannot last forever."
But it is difficult for children to understand these things. Water, Earth, Fire, and Air were furious with Mother for creating death. Their fury grew into hatred, and the hatred spread to their people. The people began to hate each other, and they began to fight and to kill each other. There was war. The people's blood stained the land, the mountains and marshes and deserts of Mother's belly. She grew very sad. Her own children hated her, the people hated her. She needed to stop the warring and restore harmony.
The blood that stained Mother's belly, the life and death of the people, slowly seeped into her womb and grew. Mother gave birth to a new child, one like the people—a man. Mother blessed him with the power to control her four rebellious children and set him in the world.
Her children were curious. Who was this new man that Mother had created? Why was he here? They drew closer to look at him, and stretched their hands out to touch him. But the moment their fingers touched him, the man grabbed hold of the children and pulled with all his strength. One by one Water, Earth, Fire, and Air fell into the man's body, and he locked them away.
With the power of the elements sealed, harmony returned to the world, and the people stopped fighting. They were grateful to the man who had saved them from their own hatred, this special child created from their own blood. The man was a part of them, but also part of Mother. Born form the cycle of life and death, this was a man who would last forever.
--
The following morning found Aang and his companions in no mood for flying, especially Appa, who had claimed half the deck as his own and wouldn't have budged even if they wanted him to, and Yuka who wouldn't budge from his hammock and complained of a terrible headache and nausea. Aang figured he was seasick. The Water Tribesmen happily invited them to stay another day and recuperate, and every so often one of them would bring something to Yuka—something to drink or eat or sniff—that was supposed to make him feel better.
Aang didn't want to be a burden, so he tried to make himself useful, but after getting caught underfoot one too many times realized that the crew had everything under control and he could best help by staying out of the way. The Water Tribesmen only requested their help with fishing; Keon asked to rub Aang and Jinju's heads for luck as they cast the net. They obliged, giggling at the absurdity of the whole ordeal. But there must have been something to it because when the men hauled the net up it jerked to the agonized dance of a fish bigger than Aang. It flopped about wildly, thumping the side of the boat, and when they pulled it over its dark skin glistened with iridescent purples and greens. That one fish would provide enough food to last for days, but although Aang was happy for his new friends, he felt uneasy watching the fish suffocate, seize and gape.
They also spent much of the day studying maps and planning a new course to the Northern Air Temple. Akama's unsuspecting buyer resided on the west coast of the Fire Nation, so that's where the boat was heading. Half a day of flying would get them to the coast without a problem, but they'd be farther west than anticipated—on the main island instead of the smaller archipelago—which would add a few days to their trip. At this point, Aang was just glad to be moving. They were so far behind schedule now that there was no chance of catching the beginning of the tournament, which wasn't such a big deal since their team was destined to lose anyway. As long as they arrived in time for Aang to enter the race, he'd be happy.
The sun was little more than an orange globule, a marble balanced between sea and hazy sky, when they left. A new day, a new beginning and, Aang felt, a new leg of their journey. They were refreshed and close to the Fire Nation now, armed once again with map, food, and water. Things would be different, he was sure of it.
The boat rocked as Appa pushed himself into the air. As they climbed higher Akama's resonating voice rose with them. "Come visit us! We'll go penguin sledding anytime!" They waved until the boat shrunk to the size of an artichoke, and to a kukui nut, and to a grain of sand, and finally disappeared.
--
Hours passed without the tension of the days before. Behind him, Aang could hear Li and Jinju conversing quietly, with occasional comments from Yuka. No threats or name calling; no sobbing or screaming. Aang never thought civility could bring such bliss.
He had learned a lot about his companions since they left the Southern Air Temple. The kind of things you only learned about someone after spending weeks confined with him on the back of a bison, even if you've spent a lifetime sharing the same roof. For instance, he learned that Jinju didn't come to the temple until he was five, which may have explained why his Airbending skills were so far behind everyone else's. Aang tried to remember his arrival, but either the memory had faded or Jinju's absence had gone just as unnoticed as his existence.
Jinju told him that he missed his family and that when he mastered Airbending and could leave the temple he would go back to them. Aang knew nothing about his family. The same was true of many of his friends, although he knew some boys who received letters from their families regularly and they sometimes let Aang visit with them. For all he knew his life had begun at the Southern Air Temple (An exaggeration, of course—he hadn't had that class yet, but didn't need to know all the details to know it was impossible). It was just as well, and it didn't bother him much. What use would it be to return after sixteen years to a family from which both his place in it and its place in him had been erased by time? The Air Temple was truly his home—the only one he knew and the only one he needed.
He learned that Li had to sneeze at least four times every morning before he could do anything. Sometimes it was more; the most Aang had counted was nine, although Li claimed he could pull twenty. He knew he'd have a bad day if it was any less than four. Then he'd be unbalanced, incomplete, anxious for that fourth sneeze until he fell asleep, assuming he was able to will himself to sleep on such a night. Three sneezes was an especially bad omen, meaning that something terrible would happen, either to Li or someone else. Aang laughed at that, but Li insisted it was true and gave examples. He had sneezed three times when he broke two fingers in an airball accident when he was eleven. He released a morbid three-sneeze dirge a year ago when Monk Safa passed away. And, he confessed, he had sneezed only three times the day they landed on the cannibal island.
"Li, why didn't you say something?" Aang asked, peeved, when he learned this detail. "You could've saved us a lot of trouble."
"No, think about it," he responded. "How long had we been flying? I doubt a 'bad feeling' would've convinced anyone not to land. It didn't even convince me. Besides," he added with a cool smile, "how was I supposed to know you'd be spooked by a story?"
Rather than attempt another futile defense, Aang said, "Well, next time let us know. At least we won't be caught off guard."
"And how, exactly, does one prepare oneself to be chased off an island by imaginary cannibals?"
Aang decided to drop it. He wouldn't get into that argument again, because it always ended the same way. He knew what he saw, and Jinju could back it up. They weren't imagining things and they weren't crazy. "Crazy," he had also learned, was Yuka's department. You had to be a little demented to do some of the things Yuka claimed he did. Like hide one of the little striped fish from the fountain in his mouth until lunchtime, when he strolled over to the new initiates' table and nonchalantly plunked the squirming animal into the cup of the young monk who dared to reprimand him.
Yes, Yuka had lost his mind a long time ago. And he had mood swings worse than Bumi's mother. One minute he was friendly and teaching you Airbending tricks, the next he was trying to beat you over the head with his staff and calling you a coward and wishing he was a blind sailor. Aang just prayed that whatever happened to Yuka wouldn't happen to him when he turned sixteen.
As he reflected on all they'd been through, Aang wondered how it was that what was meant to be a simple trip to the tournament had transformed into such a series of misadventures. It reminded Aang of the legends about the avatars, who traveled the world to learn the bending arts and keep peace, never knowing what challenges they would face or what life-and-death decisions they would have to make. Admittedly, the word meant little to Aang. All he could really remember was that the avatar was reincarnated and was supposed to keep the world balanced. It was the stuff of boring history lessons that he spent doodling bison pictures instead of taking notes. He knew the last avatar was a Firebender, and the next one was supposed to be an Airbender, and that was a big deal with everyone.
But, for now at least, life on the saddle was perfect. They flew high among wispy clouds, and the breeze held a touch of warmth. Aang knew that when they landed the air would be hot and heavy, and they would be wrapped in the deep embrace of the Fire Nation.
--
Port Fudo was immense. From the air they could see that the city stretched on for miles in all directions, yet the homes and shops were built almost on top of one another, especially the ones closest to the docks. People crammed into every available space on the docks, from sun baked sailors to screaming vendors with carts. Aang guided Appa to settle between two enormous trading ships, taking advantage of the shade they provided. He was surprised that they only received a few curious glances; a port as big as Fudo was probably used to seeing nomads.
Yuka leaped to the deck, stretching and inhaling the port's heady aroma, and Aang imitated him, breathing deeply. Spices and flowers, salt water and sweat perfumed each languorous breeze, and Aang swore he could even taste the air. This was how the Fire Nation welcomed, assaulting every sense, making heads swim.
Jinju gaped at his surroundings, overwhelmed by the towering boats and the sea of strange, colorful people crowding the pier and market. "This place is great," he said to Aang. "Have you been here before?"
"Nope," Aang admitted. "But this port's even bigger than Kwita, and Kwita's huge."
"Can we go look around? Please—real quick? Maybe we can find that lady who spits through her teeth." Aang knew from experience that there was no such thing as "real quick" when it came to a place like Port Fudo. There was so much to see and do, he was certain that they could be lost there for hours and hardly see any of it. Although he too was dying to explore the place, they didn't have time to spare. Aang suggested that they stop on their way back from the tournament as he jumped from Appa's head and gave him an affectionate pat between the eyes, receiving a slimy bison kiss in return.
"Fire flakes!" Aang turned to the source of the yell. Slowly making his way toward them, a man pushed his rickety cart. "Homemade! Best in town!"
"I'd kill for some fire flakes," Yuka moaned. Fire flakes weren't Aang's favorite, but he could empathize with Yuka. After eating only gruel and hard bread for the last two days, his tongue was begging for variety. Unfortunately, his meager savings were being enjoyed by cannibals, otherwise he might have bought a bag of the spicy snack.
"What do you think?" Yuka mused. "Bet I could get two bags for you. Hell, three for lemur head."
"Maybe if you ask nicely he'll give you some." Aang suggested, ringing saliva from his shirt. "Tell him you're starving. He might feel sorry for you and give you a bag for free." He looked up just in time to see Yuka sprinting down the dock. "I wasn't serious!" he yelled, but to his surprise the teenager slipped around the fire flake vendor and continued down the walkway. Aang searched for whatever had excited Yuka, finally spotting frantically waving arms above the crowd's bobbing heads. He jumped to Appa's head, and from that vantage point was able to see the children connected to the arms, and the three furry mountains under their feet.
He waved back while calling to Li and Jinju, "Look, there are some Nomads on the other side. I think they want us to come over."
"Perfect," Li said. "They'll feed us. We'll share what we have with them, of course," he added sarcastically, grabbing the sack that held all of their possessions—a couple of half empty waterskins and some bread crumbs. He floated to the deck and ran off. Jinju followed clumsily, leaving Aang alone to guide Appa through the water.
Li was right—Nomads were always hospitable to traveling pupils from the Air Temple. Aang couldn't recall ever running into a Nomad family that didn't try to feed him something. The only problem was that the invitation "stay for lunch" would become "stay for dinner" which would become "stay the night" and they'd lose another day. As he and Appa glided past moored trading ships and fishing boats, Aang tried to think of a way to decline their inevitable hospitality without causing offense. Finally, Appa came to a halt beside the other three bison, and they greeted each other with sniffs and low grumbles. Aang was greeted by a stampede of curious kids.
"Which Air Temple are you from?"
"Hey, do you know my sister Kuna?"
"What's your bison's name?"
"Can I play with your glider?" Aang laughed as the children surrounded him with an easy familiarity. One boy deposited a toddler in Aang's arms and darted off to examine Yuka and Jinju's abandoned staffs. The little boy kicked and squirmed, screaming, "No, no, no!" He struggled to hold onto the child as he attempted to climb Aang like a tree. Just as he nearly dropped the boy head first on the saddle one of his sisters came to the rescue, taking the toddler from Aang and balancing him on her hip. She grinned and apologized, revealing a missing front tooth.
"All of you off that bison right now, before he sinks!" a voice commanded. The crowd of kids dispersed with only a little protest.
"Come on," the girl said. "Your friends are over here with Mom," and grabbed Aang's wrist. They saddle-jumped over the backs of two bison where the girl stopped and set her howling brother down. Aang went alone to the last bison where Yuka, Li, and Jinju were already gathered along with three teenagers—two boys and a girl—and a woman holding an infant. Her delicate, pale hands contrasted with her baby's dusky skin, and the child's chubby knees cradled the full curve of the woman's stomach beneath her loose dress.
Aang bowed politely to the woman before sitting down, and she bowed as best she could around the baby and her stomach. "Good afternoon, Master," she greeted him. Beside him he saw Li rolling his eyes. Even after a year it still caught Aang off guard and made him uncomfortable when adults called him "Master" when they saw his tattoos; people like this woman who had children older than him, people to whom he was obliged to defer to while humbly accepting their respect.
"My name is Aang," he said carefully, hoping the implied "just Aang" was clear. "And that's Appa," he added, pointing.
"Okay, Aang...Li...Jinju...Yuka," she pointed to each of them respectively, her gray eyes lingering on their faces. "I'll remember. I'll call you by my every one of my children's names before I get to yours, but I'll remember it eventually!" She smiled warmly. "My name's Tatapi, and this is Lila." She bounced the baby in her arms, then cooed, "Aren't you going to say hello, Lila? Can you say hello? Say hellooo." Lila drooled while her older siblings introduced themselves.
"I was just asking your friends if they'd ever met my daughter Kuna. We gave her to the temple when she was just a baby. We usually meet her every summer at the Northern Air Temple, but we won't be going to the tournament this year. I wonder if you know her. She is...she is...oh...How old are you?" she asked her son.
"Fourteen."
"Then Kuna would be thir—put those gliders down this instant! Those are not toys and they do not belong to you!" Her features twisted into a dangerous glower and her voice exploded with more power than her petite body seemed able to hold. The four young Airbenders jumped, startled by Tatapi's scream and unexpected shift in demeanor.
"You had better listen to me!" she hollered. The gentle mother was gone, replaced in a breath by a wailing madwoman. On Appa's saddle two boys ran in circles holding Yuka and Jinju's open gliders over their heads, completely ignoring their mother.
"It's all right," Yuka began meekly, "those things are pretty stur-"
"Drop them now or unless you want your father to know how disrespectful—One! Two! So help me if you make me count to three-" Either the combined threats or a short attention span convinced the two brothers to settle down; they snapped the gliders shut, hopped to their family's bison and began rooting through the tied-down packs.
"My nephew went to find some fire flakes for me. You know, I don't even like fire flakes, but I can't get them off my mind." Appeased, Tatapi laughed easily, changing topics without warning and either ignoring or not seeing the confused and amazed faces of her four guests. "When Gul gets back we'll find a place for the bison to graze, and we'll eat our lunch there. Oh, you boys will have lunch with us, won't you?"
"Yes, of course!" They agreed with quick nods and big smiles, lest they upset her.
"Hey, which temple did you say you were from?" the oldest daughter asked. When the told her she smiled and her eyes lit up. "Isn't that where Gul studied?" She looked to her brothers and mother for confirmation.
Tatapi nodded. "Oh, he'll be so excited! My nephew's a master Airbender," she said proudly. "He passed the evaluation effortlessly. He could have stayed at the Air Temple, and I'm certain he would have been an excellent monk. He wanted to be with his family. We're very close." They nodded and made the appropriate sounds of interest, but Aang was aware of the uncomfortable atmosphere that settled upon the saddle with Tatapi's defensive tone.
A few minutes later cousin Gul returned with a bag of fire flakes for Tatapi and three for the children to share. He was lanky and swarthy-skinned, with a mustache that curled up at the ends. Blue arrows adorned his shaved head and rough hands, flamboyant in comparison to his plain clothing. They stood to greet him, bowed and introduced themselves. When they told him they were from the Southern Air Temple he gathered them all together in his long arms in a group hug exclaiming, "My brothers!" Aang, his face squashed into Gul's armpit was relieved when Tatapi ordered everyone to find a bison to ride because it was time to go.
When the children were done fighting over who got to ride on Appa with Aang and Jinju, Tatapi yelled roll call. She went too fast for Aang to connect the names with the faces, so he settled for counting. Nine children, one mother, one cousin, and four young Airbenders. The fifteen Nomads spread themselves over the four flying bison and launched into the air, showering the people below with seawater. Gradually gaining speed, the small herd made its way inland, the Fire Nation broad and inviting before them.
