Save Me
Author: YolandaFriella
Hello there! I know I updated this early, but I've been anxious to get this story started onto the plot. This chapter will be the starting of, hopefully any of you notice, the beginning of the plot taking place. I listened to Lady Gaga while writing this, well at times because I had to stop writing at times to take a break because if I continue...I lose steam. Make sense? Well anyway, this chapter may seem a little...dull? But if you really pay attention and use your um guessing skills, you'll see what happens. This is probably a very important chapter so just to warn you; pay attention! Oh and if you notice ANY error in my writing, PLEASE let me know. I always want to fix everything.
Many thanks to my lovely reviewers: EdwardBella4ever17, MavisBeacon, AnnaAza, Marnie Wolffe, Allison, lin, and spockjasperzukowriting. Thank you so much people! When I read your reviews, all of them were very uplifting! They made me want to update quickly, so I decided to oblige ;P
Special thanks to spockjasperzukowriting for being my first reviewer for this story AND for being a helper in getting me back into Avatar. Thanks girl! Oh and check out her Avatar stories, they're amazing. :)
Chapter One: A Silent Deal
The first rumble of thunder proclaimed the commencement of the storm.
The thunder appeared more deafening each time it quavered the metal walls behind me, as if it was an irritated giant marching closer to the prisoner room I was situated. It continued to sound tremendously perilous and ominous; shipping along an eerie stillness after each time it bellowed, then summarily came along the earth-shattering growl of the one element so wild and prevailing that I didn't think even the fire lord could ever grip. People in my tribe—probably everywhere—knew that thunder was nothing when compared to lightning. The component known as lightning was so sudden and accurate that I had a feeling to be able to even manage it would be unattainable, since it only came along with storms analogous to this one. I've always thought fire looked pretty untamed—just hearing thunder made me question what kind of irrational being would dare to even try to stand up to the devastating energy following the noise. No doubt, I knew they would expire the exact moment lightning laid its eyes on them. I could picture the tiny blaze, yet prolonging exhilaration glimmering in their faith as they face death head on.
I huddled in the corner of the little cell, across from the tiny window overlooking the exterior of the prison room, and I could feel the airstream pierce through the tiny opening. The wind was so brutal that my hair was liberated from the thin strap the royals gave us, to hold our hair from our faces, and was left fluttering riotously around my head, getting in my terrified eyes a few times. In an attempt to be protective, I pulled my knees to my chest and firmly wrapped my arms around them, burying my face in my legs to shield my eyes. Since there was so much air neighboring me, it was getting harder and harder to breath. If I hadn't hid my eyes, I would only have to keep them shut to keep the wind out of the sensitive nerves flourishing there.
Being starved wasn't helping the circumstances either. My body grew so bony and weedy in time that I felt too light. If these walls deteriorated and exposed me to this atrocious storm, the wind would be able to pick me up instantaneously. Plus, if I had to save my life and run, I would fail. I could barely even stand up right now from the lack of food; nonetheless bother picking up my body to run. Oh how I could feel how that would hurt my legs…
I waited, trembling in terror, for the rain to descend. I knew that even though the rain was here to be just as horrific as this storm was, I would feel stronger—if only for a short period of time. Having my element around me always brought my spirits up, regardless of the dismal conditions. Even when I accidentally fell into the deathly freezing waters of the South Pole, and had cobalt, numb lips from the stabbing cold, I still had enough strength when my father gave me a cup of water. He, too, knew what I was: a waterbender, and waterbender's needed water when they were weakest. It was a life fact, one I've grown to learn.
I couldn't think. This was a matter of life and death, and there was absolutely no room to consider futile things. Time itself bunged right there, freezing me in this site of limitation and exposure. I was ensnared—just like when I was in the throne room—and I knew it. I could feel it in my bones because they were even quaking, their actions causing my skin to tremor as well. To me, in my small-minded little world, the place outside this wall was coming to an end. That's what it sounded like, anyhow.
So I sat there, scared to death and waiting for the rain to arrive, only to finally hear the thunder sound more remote. And after a few minutes, the thunder was gone entirely, leaving the peculiar stillness to lapse over the fire nation. The only sound noticeable in my cell was the thud of my breathless, disbelieved panting. Could the storm truly just leave? Like that? So abruptly?
I stayed where I was for awhile, struggling to stop my body from shuddering and to get under control once more. It wasn't simple. My ears still heard that shuddering hostility havocked upon this place not from a bender, but from a whole other dimension. My hair lay inertly on my head like a deceased corpse, not able to budge without the vast force that was formerly involved. The thick, insanitary tresses flowed heavily past my shoulders, adding an extra, not-needed mass to my victimized body. At the South Pole, a girl's hair was a sign of their private beauty. So my entire life, my mother refused to ever let me shorten it, which the men used their own knives to cut theirs. That's why the traditional hairstyle was the modest pull back of the hair, but I added a little touch of putting loops in it for something unique. The only person that was ever permissible to see a girl with her hair down was her siblings, father, or spouse.
Once I realized that not only was the storm gone, but I was alive, I finally brought my head out from my personally-made shield. The cell looked like it had before: the chilly, metal flooring giving a monotonous mood as I looked around, the bars blocking half my image from the hallway slithering past the cells bordering mine, or the unadorned, vacant gap in front of me where nothing sat—nothing.
Silently gratified that the storm didn't have a slaughter planned, I spread my legs out, stretching for a moment. It felt great, extending my depleted limbs that haven't been functional in the past few days. The two things that I desperately needed were:
Water and food.
My stomach was always in extreme pain, the acids inside searching hysterically for food to break down, only to come up blank. My mind was frantic to merely lay my eyes on any kind of food; even the sickening food they once fed me sounded like a banquet right now. I knew that right now, I would give almost anything just to eat anything.
I let out an aching breath of air when the throbbing returned, stronger than before. My stomach was twisting, thieving nutrients from my muscle tissue by now. Unsteadily, I sat up even more, leaning my head back against the metal behind me, closing my eyes forcefully. I wanted to get out of here…..to escape.
And if that meant death, then so be it.
"It is easier to find men who will volunteer to die, than to find those who are willing to endure pain with patience."
~Julius Caesar
(I'm not claiming this is a good and righteous man, but this is an excellent quote so I used it. I definitely don't agree on everything he did so just be aware of that)
I slept for awhile, until an unusual, different noise awakened me.
Bringing my head up to gaze perplexedly through the bars in front of me, I listened strongly as the sound of yielding footsteps penetrated my ear drums. My heart sped up as a response, hoping that maybe they finally decided to feed me. I waited eagerly to see who it was, hearing the footsteps inch closer.
A silhouette entered my outlining vision, and then in stepped a figure concealed behind the cosmic shadows. They were silent as they stepped before me, moving closer.
Startled, my breathing picked up, fearing it was an assassin of some sort, and I was ready to speak. Instead, they decided to speak up first.
"Don't be alarmed," The person told me, and it was a woman judging from the softness within her voice. "I'm not here to hurt you. Actually, it's quite the opposite."
I said nothing, my eyes running across the woman as she stepped forward, a flash of light landing on her form. She was slim, but taller than I was. Her hands were secreted in the long sleeves of the dark, crimson cloak she decided to wear, an eerie hood also hiding her features. I could see the lower half of her face, in spite of her attempts in covering herself completely to me. I also noticed that her cloak was damp; and understood that she walked through that rain just to be here. Her movements were erratic and nippy, as if she didn't have much time here. Who exactly was she?
"Are you the healer? The healer everyone's been talking about?" She asked, breaking through my deep thoughts. I jerked up, as if noticing she was not a hallucination—but she was real. My second thought was extreme revelation. People were talking about me?
"Yes." I responded croakily, my mouth too dried out to be the least bit well. It hurt to even utter a noise at this point.
"Here. Take this." I watched in wonder as she leaned towards me, a faint smile on her pastel face, and her hand fell from her sleeve to reveal a mouth-watering roll just waiting for me. I eyed it in wonder, wondering if that, too, was nothing more than a fantasy. "It's fresh. I just baked it before I came here. Go on—I brought it only for you. I thought that maybe you were here that you'd be hungry. I was right." She paused as I didn't take it, probably wondering if I was rejecting her kind offer. "I know you're tired, and probably close to dying, but you must eat this or you probably will die. You poor girl, you look so…..skinny."
I stared over at the roll, seeing the fresh steam rise from its divine surface. My stomach clenched again as if it knew that food was only a few feet from it, and my mouth was lively with saliva; aching to just have a small taste….
With a great endeavor, I picked my body up and forced myself to move closer to this rapidly nice woman. I moved like I was climbing up a rock mountain, shuffling my feet and grasping the floor with my hands to shift closer to the bars. All the while, my eyes were trained on that roll: the roll symbolizing my purpose behind this movement.
"Here you go," She told me softly, dropping the roll into my trembling palm. I felt the heat of the object multiply throughout my entire arm, warming my blood directly. Not bothering to even look at her, I devoured the roll in one single bite.
Oh the taste was like paradise—heaven perhaps. Never in my life have I tasted a roll so appetizing before, not even the ones my mother excelled at were able to give me the satisfied lurch of completeness this one had. As I chewed slower, savoring the idyllic taste of food, I felt the now broken down particles travel down my throat, filling me up inside now.
"Feel better?" She asked, examining me with her eyes buried behind that cloak.
"Thank you," My voice sounded stronger now.
"Oh. Don't think I've forgotten." She brought out her other hand, which was holding a mug holding a substance. "Here's some water. I can trust that you won't attack me with it, right?"
"Right." I took it gratefully, this time giving her an indebted smile, and drank the water. It flowed down my throat straightforwardly, as if I have touched the element in days, and we've only parted for a short time. To many people, a few days were nothing. To me, without food or water, a few days were ceaselessly. After I was finished with the water, I handed the woman the mug, my body feeling healthier, even though I could still feel weak.
"I came here," She explained briefly, "to make a deal."
"A deal?" I was puzzled.
"Yes." She finally sat down, cross-legged and looked at me with that cloak still clouding her face. "A deal."
"What kind of deal?"
She stopped speaking for a moment, her smile faltering. A thin line replaced her smile, and I instantly regretted asking her. It seemed that what I said not only unnerved her—it troubled her to an extent. Regret filled my chest and I opened my mouth to speak.
"I'm didn't mean to offend you or anything." I said quickly, praying I didn't destroy my one opening of optimism left.
"I'm sorry," She apologized; the smile alit on her face once more. "It's just….my son used to ask me that when I made deals with him. Especially when I had to get him to bed….I'd always tell him we'll make a deal, and he'd always ask what kind…."
"What happened to him?"
"He's not dead." She said quickly, shaking away that question. "Anyway, let's get back to the deal, shall we?" I gave her an encouraging smile, even though I still felt shaken up from eating too quickly. It was beginning to make my stomach ache once more, since it probably shrank from no eating.
"It's about my son." She sighed. "He's been deeply injured. And I've heard that you're healing abilities are phenomenal. So I was thinking that maybe I could—"
"Well….."
"—ask you to treat him." She finished, giving me a timid look.
"I can't treat fire nation." I told her, looking down. I wondered who her son was. If he was anything like her, then he deserved anything but death. This woman did nothing but gentleness to me, even though she had no idea who I was. In fact, she saved me—rescued me from death. I do feel grateful, but I didn't know about healing the people I loathe….
"Please," She pleaded, "I….I can't lose him. I don't see him much anymore….but I saw what happened. In fact, I don't live here. I live in the earth nation; I just came to see what happened to him. He continues to live here but I know my son's a good boy—I know he is. He has the strongest heart I've ever seen."
"Who is he?" I asked, watching her feedback.
She gave nothing away but a simple, "He's my son. What does it matter who he is?"
"Because if I have to heal him, I want to know, at least, who he is."
"He doesn't deserve what happened to him." She gushed, suddenly hysterical. "He doesn't! He did it because he stood up for something good. I just—"
We were both distraught when the doors opened, and heavy, hurried footsteps were coming our way. As my eyes left the woman, I didn't see her shift position and leave the other way out, and I definitely didn't notice another roll rolling towards me, its destination right underneath me; hidden from view. As I looked back to where she once was, seeing nothing but a shadow, I felt surprise come over my face.
She left without another word, as if she trusted me enough to heal her son.
I thought about the roll, thinking of its prosperous, healthy taste. I thought about the aching in my stomach I once felt, how close I was to death. Seeing my too bony arms, or my frail legs, I could feel myself grow stronger now with water and food inside of me. My mind wondered if I should oblige to her deal, or break it.
Would I be able to forgive myself? Denying her simple request after I ate so greedily?
I knew I could hold a grudge for awhile, Sokka knew that from experience, so I had a feeling I would never forgive myself if I let the woman, who saved my own life, down. If I turned down her desperate, life-threatening attempt of walking all the way through this treacherous storm, only to come up with me betraying her, only I could imagine the look on her face. I had to help her, and to do that, I had to help her son.
"Waterbender," A guard appeared in my vision, not bothering to even see to my needs, "you have another request of healing."
"From whom?" I asked, staring up at him in a crack to hide my fear. I couldn't help but feel intimidated by every soldier or guard who walked by—they could kill me with one flick of the wrist, signaling a giant blast of fiery doom.
"From a former general," He told me fatally through the unemotional mask covering his face. "It's urgent. He's heard of your healing powers—"
"Ability," I corrected.
"—and he wanted to see if you'd agree on tending to his nephew."
A general's nephew? Was that the woman's son?
As I looked over the guard, who stood tolerantly to await my answer, I felt my head looking for an answer. There was a tense feeling in my gut that told me that this had to be her son, since she came at the right time. Plus she told me she saw what happened; so it had to be him since it was current. I shot the guard a withdrawn look and said:
"Would I be freed if I healed him?"
"No. But you could become a healer if you accepted the request." He shuffled his feet. "And I'd hurry if I were you, his message was very urgent."
"Yes. We've established that already." I snapped, shocked at the sudden courage raging inside of me. Where'd it come from? Was it because I had a power that none of them had, and that made me feel mightier? Or was it because they came for my help when they needed it?
"What's the injury?" I asked.
"A burn. He was burned a few minutes ago, in the midst of a fight. He needs someone to tend to him immediately. He's also in intense pain."
"I've never tried a burn before…" I breathed, knowing what I said was true. Never have I tried that….
"So is that a no?"
I looked up, knowing what I was about to say would get me out of this dreadful cell. Giving him a victorious smile, I said:
"Yes. I'll heal him."
Thus, began my venture to the unknown.
TO BE CONTINUED