Chapter Two: Out of Touch
"Come on, you maggots! Is that all you've got?"
Toph Beifong paced back and forth among the lines of her students. At just seventeen, she was younger than many of them, but she commanded the room with ease. Despite the fact that she was blind, not a toe stepped out of line, ever. It didn't matter if she couldn't see you. Her presence was enough to make any wannabe bender sweat. Case in point, the five rows of metalbending students she was beating into shape.
"Fix your stance, Mako!" she spat.
The girl in question quickly shifted her feet.
"Alright everyone, chin up, back straight! Give me basic Beifong form followed by the Flying Hammer!"
The world seemed to slow down as soon as she gave that order. Between the vibrations she felt through her feet, the sounds reverberating against her eardrums, and the smell of sweat, blood, and tears infiltrating her nostrils, Toph had a perfect mental picture of the world in that moment. Twenty feet lifted in unison, reached out in unison, and slammed down in unison. The squeak of toes against tatami mats signified the pivot. Twenty fists hit the ground, and the distinct sound of metal screeching as the straight iron rod each student had been practicing with bent towards the floor. They let out a roar together, and carried the momentum given from the previous technique into the next, bringing their far leg into the air and rocketing their heels into the top of the rods. Twenty screams of pain and twenty choruses of curses followed.
Toph rolled her faded green eyes. "Spirits, you're all incompetent! The Flying Hammer is the easiest metalbending combat technique and we've been working on it for days now! And you all still can't do it!"
"With all due respect, ma'am," piped a nervous voice, "We've only had instruction from you for two days in the past month. You keep disappearing with your friends."
The whole class buzzed with hushed whispers. Toph could hear each and every one of them, but they all seemed to be saying the same thing: you had to be really stupid to talk back to Sifu Beifong, even if you were right. The earthbender marched over to that high-pitched voice and jabbed a finger into the chest of its owner. "You say something?"
"Uh, n-no, no ma'am. I said nothing. Nothing at all," the quivering, flabby man blurted. Toph could smell the sweat on his forehead.
"Good. I think it's time for a demonstration of some metalbending techniques," she barked, jabbing her open palm skyward. The metal rods around the room shuddered and straightened out, before hovering several inches above the ground. "Metalbending requires focus. More focus than earthbending. You have to be able to feel the vibrations within the metal, and you have to reach in there and grab its soul. It's not easy." The teen turned to face the rest of her class. "But it shouldn't be hard, either."
As she finished speaking, all twenty rods flew into the air and began to dart around the room like they had minds of their own. Some clashed like sword meeting sword. Others played a makeshift round of darts, scoring bullseyes by impaling the flying boar painted on the wall in the belly. Still more chased each other in a game of tag. The class "oohed" and "aahed", watching the exposition above them, until Toph raised her hand sharply and the metal rods fell back to earth, banging many students in the head. "That's beginner's level stuff! I figured it out all on my own in under a year, and you idiots can't even dent an I-beam!" she thundered, denting her student's spirits. "Try it again!"
They tried it again. And again. And again. By the fifth go-around, a quarter of the class had managed to perform the move and squash the rods into short cylinders the diameter of a coin. The rest had terrible bruises covering their feet. Supremely annoyed, Toph stormed out of the room.
A hushed voice wondered, "Should we keep practicing, or…"
"Keep practicing!"
Toph collapsed amongst the gnarled roots of an ancient tree behind her humble metalbending school. Sometimes she hated teaching. No, scratch that—she always hated teaching. But she was the greatest earthbender of all time. It would be a disservice—nay, a crime—to deprive the world of her skill and power. If that meant teaching sweaty preteens the ways of metalbending, so be it. She grunted, retched, spat into the dirt, let out a long, loud groan of pure anguish, and flopped backward, letting her hands fall to the grass.
I need a vacation… she thought, as sleep came to claim her.
THOOM!
The world, it seemed, didn't think she needed one.
"What the fu—" she gasped in a strangled yelp, falling face-first from the root she had been perched atop. A great bellow like a Fire Nation foghorn exploded across the landscape. Toph leapt to her feet and readied herself for a battle, adrenaline pumping through her veins. Then, suddenly, she realized the vibrations she felt in her toes were familiar vibrations, and the foghorn was replaced by a fuzzy white beast in her mind. "Appa?"
"Get on!" ordered Aang. Not a hint of his usual, cheerful self was present.
"What? I'm in the middle of a lesson!" she protested.
"You'd better get on, it's serious," insisted Zuko. "We left the Yu Dao summit for this."
"What happened?" asked Toph.
Zuko grit his teeth. "We're going to the South Pole."
/ / | \ \
Aang was falling asleep. Try as he might, he just couldn't keep his eyes open. These diplomatic missions were a necessity, but they weren't what one would call fun. He had only just turned eighteen, after all. These meetings and debates and political squabbles were meant for people twice his age, not grown-up kids high on hormones. But, still, Avatar duties called, and here he was sitting in between the two most powerful men on the planet: Fire Lord Zuko of the Fire Nation, and Earth King Kuei. To Aang's left were the Fire Nation's representatives, and to his right were those of the Earth Kingdom, seated at a table that curved in a semicircle around a small podium, where a diplomat or nobleman or something droned on and on about trade deals concerning moon peaches under the skylight of the vaulted ceiling.
His vision began to fade as his eyes slid shut, until Zuko elbowed him in the side. "Stay awake."
"I'm trying," the younger boy whispered in reply. "Why is this even something they need to address the Fire Lord and Earth King about?"
"I'm not really sure, I haven't been paying close attention. I'll just skim the minutes later."
Aang's eyebrow crawled up his forehead. "Zuko, come on. I'm not one to talk, but you're the Fire Lord."
"I'm more invested than Kuei is," he hissed, jerking his head to point out the Earth King, who was trying—and failing—to hide his pet bear Bosco under the table.
"Avatar Aang! Fire Lord Zuko!"
The two young men snapped to attention. They'd been caught. The Earth Kingdom official at the podium was livid, sneering, "I know that taxes and diplomacy and trade isn't as fun as Agni Kais or saving the world, but they are a necessity."
"Agni Kais are illegal now, actually," Zuko chimed.
The diplomat rolled his eyes. "I really don't care. The issue on the table right now is piracy on the northwestern coast of the Earth Kingdom, where huge amounts of moon peaches have been going missing as of late and—"
Suddenly, a messenger barged into the room. She was frantically waving a letter, and yelling, "Avatar Aang! Avatar Aang! I have an urgent message for you!"
"Oh, what is it now?" the impatient official groaned, exasperated.
Aang took the letter and sliced the envelope open with a blade of air. His heart leapt into his throat as he read its contents. Sokka… Hakoda… Pakku… Kanna… Only the Avatar can help. Tragedy has struck… Oh spirits!
"I have to leave!" he yelled, leaping out of his chair and sprinting off.
"What are you doing young man?" screeched the man at the podium, but he received no reply.
Zuko frowned and read over the letter. "What could possibly be so impor—" Reaching the end, he stood abruptly and said, "I'm really very sorry, but we're going to have to reschedule this meeting for another time. Earth King Kuei, read the letter, I hope you'll understand why. Good day."
The Fire Lord bowed gracefully, then dashed away after the Avatar very ungracefully.
"But, but… moon peaches!" screamed the official, tearing his papers in half.
/ / | \ \
Master Pakku watched a small orb of water hover in front of his nose. He idly moved it through the air, turning it into a cylinder and making it orbit his hand. Bored, he sighed, and cast it off to the side, letting it fall into the snow.
"No sign of the ship, Sifu Pakku?" called a voice.
The waterbending master jumped and spun around. The worried face of a young girl no older than twelve stared back at him. She was one of his new students named… Kali? He couldn't keep track of everyone, especially as his classes had effectively doubled in size since girls had been allowed to join combat lessons five years ago. The Avatar and his friends had certainly made a lasting impression on Northern Water Tribe culture in the few short days they'd spent up there during the war. Whenever Katara came north, she would be flocked by ecstatic young girls who wanted to see the woman who'd put the tribe's sexist foot in its mouth. And with good reason. Katara was the best waterbender Pakku had ever encountered and was a master of the art in her own right. That was why he had called for her, and that was why he sat here, waiting, for his step-granddaughter to arrive.
"No sign of the ship," he confirmed, nodding slightly.
"Aww, I wanted to see Miss Katara!"
"Sifu Katara," Pakku corrected.
"Do you know when she's going to get here?" the little girl asked.
He frowned. He did know when she was supposed to get here: yesterday. The fact that the Water Tribe ships sent to retrieve her from the Northern Outpost hadn't returned yet worried him, but Pakku shrugged it off. Aside from the Southern Raiders, the North Pole had been hit by a few nasty storms the past couple of weeks. It was more than likely such an occurrence had delayed them. "No, I don't, I'm afraid," he lied. "Why don't you go run along and practice some basic forms? You could always use the—"
"Ship ahoy!" screamed the men at the docks.
In an instant, Pakku was on his feet. He stared out into the harbor, where a trio of Water Tribe ships were coming into port. They were badly damaged, scarred with burns and holes, and the sailors on board looked weary. Pakku scanned the crowd gathering at the docks, worry growing in the pit of his stomach. The waterbender sprinted as fast as his aged legs could carry him and leapt over the edge of the wall. As he fell, he summoned the power of the moon to raise the tides, and he was caught by a wave that carried him down the length of the canal in a flash and gently dropped him off by the frigid sea. Pakku barreled through the mass of people to get to the crew. Everyone was accounted for. Every face he had seen off a few days before was present. Except, something was missing. He ran off, in desperate need of a pen and parchment and a direct line of communication with the Avatar. As he went, one question was bouncing around in his brain:
Where was Katara?
Author's Note: Hi! As you can probably tell, I'm new to this, both fanfiction and the world of Avatar, which I just binge-watched a few weeks ago and have swiftly become addicted to. I've written before on the web, but this is my first try at honest narrative writing with an audience. I've got big plans for this story, which I know doesn't exactly seem the case with these short chapters, but I promise they'll be longer soon! Thanks for checking this story out.
(Oh, and by the way, this particular chapter has the chronological order of Pakku Aang Toph, in case you were confused by why Aang seemingly picked up Toph and then was suddenly in Yu Dao.)