The forest loomed over him.
It was no longer still, whipped instead into a tumultuous storm, vicious and biting, leaves caught by the hurricane slicing across his fingers as he shielded his face. There was a howling, like the sound of the woman with the bleeding eyes, full of agony and horror. He sat down on the ground heavily, curling in on himself and covering his ears. He was crying, and his chest hurt, and he could only try to swallow the panic over and over and over, trying not to suffocate.
His hands were covered in blood.
"You'll be okay." She was there again, the girl with the strange tattoos. She sat in front of him, perfectly still, the wind seeming to flow around her. "It hurts. But you'll be alright."
"How can you know that? You don't know what I've done!"
"You've done only what you have to."
"No, I didn't have to! I've killed people!"
She took his hand gently, running her thumb over the cuts the leaves had made. He watched in awe as the wounds healed behind them, sealing up neatly as a lock mechanism sliding into place. He looked up at her, voice shaking, "Who are you?"
"My name is Jinora. I'm an airbending master." The storm was dying down, slowly returning to the same silence as before, heavy as a set of thick curtains. She stood up slowly, her short hair falling over her cheeks as she helped him up, "Come with me. I have something to show you."
The world blurred around them, shifting and melting like ice cones in the sun. When it finally settled again it was in a dusty valley, dotted with teetering pillars of rock. There were boulders strewn everywhere, shattered and cracked. He could tell from the sharp cuts in the tops of the pillars, there'd been earthbenders here. It was a scene of rubble and debris, of a savage struggle. He knelt down, feeling the dust between his fingers. He couldn't bend, so he was still dreaming- no, not dreaming. You're in the spirit world.
"What happened here?"
"An airbender." Jinora was watching him quietly, hands clasped in front of her. "He believed that true freedom could only come with chaos, without authority or order. He tried to kill the Avatar here."
"But chaos is the worst thing that could happen!" His head hurt. "How would anyone know what to do, who to follow?"
"That was exactly the problem. He took his beliefs too far. Too much freedom comes at the price of order, just as too much order comes at the price of freedom. Neither is good in isolation." She looked up at the towering rocks, "Airbenders have an ancient belief in nonviolence. We do our best not to harm anyone, ever. We're even vegetarians. But when the future of our nation was in danger, when we were being wiped out- we'd have been idiots not to fight back. Just as order and freedom must exist in balance, so must violence and peace. There is a time for everything in the world, Jianyu. Even the ugly things."
"I've still killed people." He was feeling less hollow, now. He still felt horrible, but it was beginning to make sense.
"Did you mean to?"
"No!" He paused. "Well, I wanted to stop them. But I didn't want to kill them."
"I'm not saying that what you did is something to be proud of. But it is necessary, sometimes. You can try to avoid it wherever you can, but sometimes it's beyond your control."
The thought was terrifying. "I need to be able to control myself, though!"
"You can control yourself all you want, Jianyu, but there will always be others you cannot." She pursed her lips. "I am not condoning what you did. And while remorse is all well and good, you do need to make amends."
"How can I ever do that?"
"Start by not doing it again. Remember this day. You might have the chance to apologise, one day. But in the meantime, make it your path to never do it again. You are the Avatar, Jianyu. You must bring peace."
Everything was beginning to melt away at the edges, slowly and subtly. I must be waking up. He tried not to panic. "But how? How do I bring peace? I'll never hurt anyone again!"
He faded away, and Jinora watched him go, frowning. Easier said than done, Jianyu.
It was quiet in the hospital, the same kind of quiet that accompanied shrines. Yan was glad. It made things uncomplicated, easy. The nurses came in every half hour, feeding her a mixture of Mámù flowers and Banyan-grove bark in small spoonfuls of fragrant paste, bringing with them the gentle loss of sensation that distracted her from the itching of the bandages on her face. She liked it here, with everything so neatly folded around her, laying on the bed with nothing to do but breathe.
The sun was shining in on her when the footsteps came, warming her fingertips on the soft cloth of the blanket. They sounded metallic, like guards' boots.
"How are you feeling?"
She'd never heard her voice outside of the parade ground. It sounded… a lot gentler than expected. "I've been better, Kuvira, ma'am."
She heard her shift around to sit in the guest's chair, the chink of her uniform as it settled around her. "Are you able to tell me what happened?"
Yan resisted the urge to snort. "Your son put needles through my eyes, ma'am. I thought that was fairly obvious given the bandages all over my face. Or are you blind too?"
Kuvira scowled. The doctors had warned her that Yan would have some trouble with emotional responses, not reading a situation correctly; but it didn't stop the knee-jerk reaction at that sting. She has every right to be as bitter or derisive as she wants. She took a deep breath. "I apologise for my son's behaviour. Be rest assured I will do everything in my power to fix this."
"It's a bit beyond fixing now, Great Uniter." Her voice was flat and monotonous- Kuvira wondered if that was the brain injury or the soldier talking.
Why does every family I make fall to pieces? Where did I go wrong with him?
"Tell me if there is anything I can do."
Yan was silent for a long time. Kuvira leaned over her, trying to tell if she was asleep or not. After half an hour, it began to rain, the water painting the light through the window in broad, dappled strokes. She left.
"Thanks for taking us in. We had nowhere else to go. I'll give you some yuans for your trouble, what we can spare."
"I don't want your money." Irritated, the old healer sighed deeply, gesturing for her to sit on a stool in the corner of the room. She had introduced herself with a name and a gruff nod, shepherding them into the dimly lit studio where a small bed of hot coals glowed in the fireplace. "You can call me Nayan," she'd said, "and call yourselves poorly timed. It's past high moon."
Now, with her materials ready, the healer gathered some mud from a clay pot near the fire and began working it in steady circles on Qí's leg, frowning. "What could you have possibly done to get this stuck in your thigh, and wake me up at this hour? Not to mention the child's broken ribs."
Jiji was limp on the bed in the corner of the room, looking as if he were about to pass out from exhaustion, despite only being woken up moments ago. He wasn't going to be arguing any time soon, still shivering despite the warmth of the healer's tea room.
That fight must have taken a lot more out of him than I-
A gruff cough from the healer interrupted her mid-thought.
"Sorry, uh, we've had a long night." She scrambled for ideas. Kuvira would know what to say, she's always so good at this- Kuvira! "You see, we left his mother tonight."
The healer, to Qí's surprise, did not seem shocked at all. "You're another one of those ones then, eh? Well that does happen on occasion in these parts, but I didn't expect to see a piece of metal lodged in your thigh. The broken bones in the boy can be expected, unfortunately."
She gestured at her armour, "We're not from around these parts. Everyone at home is a metal bender."
"Metal benders? You're from Zaofu?"
"Actually, it's been called Jin Nuo for almost a decade now."
She looked at her derisively, "Child, political semantics are beyond concern when you get to my age. It doesn't matter if that city is called Zaofu or Jin Nuo, they both mean the same place."
"Well-" Why am I always getting cut off? I swear, by Oma and Shu-!
"-the same place, regardless."
Qí inhaled sharply as the metal lodged in her thigh suddenly made a dull clang noise and fell to the floor. The mud however, continued to move in a constant circular manner, healing the hole left by the metal as the sharp, stinging pain subsided to a slight throb.
"Spirits, give a lady a little warning next time."
"I was just enjoying our little chat. Not often I get such… unusual company. Besides, I can tell a shard of metal in your thigh isn't the worst injury you've had, child."
Qí muttered under her breath. "You're telling me."
"Sorry, what was that? Quit mumbling." Thank spirits old people can't hear as well.
"Oh, nothing. How about you heal my son over there and we can keep talking?"
Acknowledging Qí's response, the healer made her way over to a barely conscious Jianyu. "Don't touch the mud on your thigh, young lady; and stay in your seat while I heal the boy." Instead of mud, the healer now collected some water from a clay pot, adjacent to the mud. A slow hum reverberated throughout the room as the water started to heal some of Jianyu's broken bones.
"These wounds look quite fresh you know, how did you manage to escape and travel so far in such little time?"
"You're pretty observant for a civilian, I'll give you that. And why should I tell you? You don't even know my name."
"If you're smart, you won't tell me," was the response. Smarter than she looks. She's poking at us with a stick. Time to crush that flat.
"Well, healer lady, as I said earlier, my son and I left his mother tonight. Frankly, she's not a very nice woman and despite me trying to talk it out with her, she obviously didn't take it that well. I mean, look at us. My only regret is that I didn't leave with him sooner. We barely managed to get out, and arrived here one of her airships. Finding this village was a gift of the spirits." It doesn't hurt to bend the truth a little.
"An airship? She must be rich."
"You could say that, yes. Anyway, long story short, we landed not too far from here when we saw the village lights, and were in need of serious medical attention before stumbling across your place, clearly."
Jianyu stirred from his semi-conscious state, slowly sitting up as the humming of healing water started to fade, and focused on Qí still sitting on the stool.
"Qí? Where are we?" Damn it kid. Don't blow our cover.
"What an interesting name, Qí. And what is your name boy?"
"Ji-"
"-his name is Lee! He probably isn't thinking straight after being out of it for so long, am I right Lee?" Come on, he can't be that dense.. right?
"Uh-" He caught Qí's glare from over Nayan's shoulder, "yes. Sorry ma'am. My name is Lee."
"He was named after his grandfather, though, so we just call him Junior."
Her turn to be glared at. She smirked back at him playfully, trying to cheer him up, but he just looked away.
"What kind of idiot child forgets his own name, anyway?" Nayan was muttering.
I can hear what you're saying. I'm not old, lady. "An idiot child that's passed out twice within a couple of hours would be a pretty good guess, don't you think?"
She was about to keep going before Jiji piped up again, voice weak and frail. "No, she's right, Qí. That was stupid."
Nayan nodded sagely. "You ought to learn to keep your mouth shut around these parts, boy. The Si Wong is not kind to the unprepared."
"What makes you think we'll be travelling the Si Wong?"
Nayan rolled her eyes and straightened up, sending the water splashing back into the pot. "Look, I don't know who you think you're fooling, but I know a pair of deserters when I see them. That's the way all deserters go, across the dunes. If the airships don't pick them up, the sand swallows them, but they still try. Apparently there's some magic safe haven down south they all aim for." She brushed her hands off decisively, "You can stay here the night, since you're already my problem, whether I like it or not. But tomorrow, you should cleanse yourselves at the shrine and be on your way. I don't know what you've done to get out of Jin Nuo alive, but you'll both attract dark spirits if you don't make amends."
Well. Now we're on even ground. She pushed herself up and bowed, "Thank you for your kindness."
The curt nod she got in return was worth all the trouble. Jiji was asleep before Nayan had finished packing up, a soft, even slumber that was nothing like the limpness of unconsciousness. Qí moved to lay down on the rug by the fire, still thinking. We need a better cover story. This wasn't a pleasant experience.
Sleep was a long time coming, but a relief when it reached her.
The air was still and breathless as he moved through the narrow chasm, the dusty red rocks towering over his head towards the narrow strip of blue sky above. The sandy floor was almost perpetually in shadow, cool and soft beneath his feet. The confined walls squeezed at his chest at points, his newly healed ribs grumbling in protest. Still, he didn't bend the rock. Nayan had told him about the spirit guarding the shrine, warning that it sucked people who tried to change it into the cliff, engulfing them alive. After his dealings with the spirit world, he was in no way inclined to test the patience of a rock guardian. He wished Qí was here. But she'd declined to come, waiting back with Guanyin, her arms crossed in that stubborn way of hers. "If I cleansed after every fight, Jiji, I'd have no skin left. Spirits don't care about human battles, anyway."
I wish I could believe that. But you didn't kill anyone, Qí.
It took about ten minutes of winding passages to finally reach the clearing she'd described, almost perfectly circular and surrounded by sheer ten meter cliffs. The shrine itself was carved into the walls of the opening, ornate pillars watching over the hollowed-out rooms beyond. Statues of Oma and Shu stood in front of each pillar, while the gentle figure of the Great Spirit Guanyin looked down on him from above the entrance, sitting on the characters of the Zhōng Kuí; soul to soul, dust to dust.
He took off his shoes and knelt before the steps for the Gàn Mùyù, burying his hands in the sand and taking a deep breath before washing it over his face, over his forearms up to the elbow, and finally his feet up to the ankles. It felt good to be covered in raw earth again, not just metal. He repeated the rite, cleansing himself, trying to scrub the memory of the needles off his hands, of the blood-
-he was panicking, hyperventilating and shaking. He wanted to wrap himself in a blanket of earth, to disappear into the ground and never come back up, never have to use his aching ribs again-
I wish I had someone to talk to, he thought. I wish Mom was here.
The realisation hit him in the gut for the millionth time. We're really gone. I'm never gonna see her again.
It took about fifteen minutes to stop freaking out. Qí would be getting impatient, he knew. He took a shuddering breath and pushed himself up, moving into the shrine with shaky hands, left foot first. It was only the third time he'd been in a shrine, and the first time alone; one time when he was very young (he only remembered the gentle hands of the priest and his kindly smile), and once when he'd been on a trip with Mom- Mom- in the western territories. But that had been a big temple, staffed by people who'd told him what he needed to do when he felt lost.
Guanyin is the merciful. She helps those in need.
He stopped just inside the entrance and bowed, paying respects before moving to the middle of the room and kneeling before the statue of Guanyin sitting against the back wall. The floor was carved with a trapezoid, the base curling into itself; the ancient symbol of Earth. He prostrated himself on the floor, forehead pressed against the rock. "Gracious Guanyin. I know I've done wrong. I have drawn innocent blood. I feel so lost." He swallowed back tears again, his throat sore, "Please, show me where to go."
He looked up at the statue, trying to find some glimmer of hope in the cold stone eyes. The wind blew into the room hollowly, sprinkling sand over the smooth stone floor. He felt it brush over the backs of his hands, staring down at them quietly; but no answer came. His stomach hurt, and suddenly he was choking on sobs, shoulders shaking uncontrollably.
The shrine echoed empty around him.
A/N:
Lou: We've included some Middle-Eastern and Buddhist influences into the spirituality of our interpretation of the Avatar universe, which show up a bit in Jiji's scene. The Gàn Mùyù is a loose pinyin translation of the tradition of dry ablution in Islam and Central Asian / African influences, and the particular movements Jiji practices in the shrine are derived from proper conduct in both Islamic mosques and Buddhist temples. As for the Zhōng Kui, they'll show up again later. There's going to be a lot more of this infusion of other traditions with the Avatar version in the future.
Hope you're all enjoying so far! :)