The ship is bustling with noise and people desperately preparing the small ship to send off after dinner. My anxiety bustles with them, and each noise on the deck sends me reeling. Zuko does not join me for training after we eat separately, which eases my mind. They plan to set out come nightfall, and Iroh will not let me join them.
Even though Zuko disapproves of me leaving the ship unattended, Iroh presses a small pouch of coins into my palm before he heads out for more shopping and searching for his White Lotus tile. He does not tell me why he gives me money, and my anxiety is too thick for me to see the opportunity he has given me.
Today, Iroh spent the majority of the day shopping around. Zuko joined him after our training, but before he gave me the xun. As the sun sets, I move through my own set movements, feeling the dock's air against my face. I can feel someone's eyes on me during my exercise, but try hard to keep from glancing over to who it is.
There is tension in the air, as if the Avatar is near. However, neither Zuko, Jee or Iroh tell me why the air is thick. Before boarding the small ship, Zuko pulls me aside. His eyes are dark, and there I find the source of the tension.
It is Aang.
"Can I -" I start, but Zuko's gaze cuts me short. His hand is on my upper arm, but not too hard.
"You cannot. Do not leave the ship. If I hear word of your departure, our compromise is over."
I nod. Swallow. Open my mouth to say something. Think about it. Instead, "Thank you for the xun. I'm sure Iroh will teach me how to use it."
"You don't kno-"
"I do not."
His hand drops from my arm. There is curiosity in his eyes, but I do not comment on his stereotype of being an airbender means I can play any wind instrument. Sadness lingers, once again, in my throat. Of the monks. Of my friends, of their own music nights and habits.
"I assumed."
"Maybe you shouldn't assume things anymore," I joke. Zuko grimaces at me, and I beam at him, returning to my exercises until he departs on the small boat.
After Zuko and Iroh leave, all the soldiers go up to the galley to drink and laugh. I feel for the pouch of coins that Iroh gave me earlier and leave the boat, walking off the gang plank with no worries. From Zuko's conversation, I assume they will be gone for some time. And the market has reopened for the night crowd.
The smells of cooking meat and vegetables wash over me as I move toward the crowd. The red sailed boat of the pirates is gone. The tension held within my body washes away, overcome by the smells and sounds of the market.
Lanterns hang high above me, adding to the warmth of the smells and creating an orange glow of the area. I have no idea what I want to buy, so I wander aimlessly. I spend a few coins on a vegetable stick from a vendor. My eyes gaze over the different stalls. For a moment, I return to an earlier time traveling with the other monks. I am selling pies and paintings and sketches, smiling at people and offering them my blessings. I am younger, but happier. I am different.
I am different now, anyway.
I shake the image away, stopping at a shop that sells books and scrolls with stories inside them. I browse a few stacks of worn books, which the wearer tells me is from his recently deceased wife. "I have no use for them. She was the reader. I'll sell anything you are interested in."
Nodding, a tight feeling rises from my chest. My hand stops just above Love amongst the Dragons, a play from the Fire Nation. I saw it once, preferred by a group of travelers while I was in the Fire Nation, well over a hundred years ago. Sadness overwhelmed the whole production, but the story itself was beautiful.
After paying for the written version of the play, the man wishes me a good night. Finishing my skewer, I begin my way back to the ship. I pause, briefly, at a stand selling bo staffs. It takes a lot of my willpower to push past the stalls. Hiding a book from Zuko is easy. Hiding an entire bo staff is hard. Part of me hopes that he would return my airbending staff to me, though I know that is as unlikely as a group of Air Nomads found hiding in the mountains.
Nobody bothers me on the walk back, and nobody bothers me when I sneak back aboard the ship. The main deck is silent, and I imagine them all to be still in the galley, getting drunk and playing with cards.
After lighting a few of the lanterns around my room, I notice someone dropped off a plate for my dinner while I was gone. There is no note, and I sit. While eating, I begin reading over the play, remembering, vividly, the details of the troupe of actors and their masks. I am awash with the beauty of the writing, as well as the beauty of my long ago memory, that I finish the story sometime just before sunrise.
Not yet tired, I make my way out of the bowels of the ship, watching the sun rise and enjoying the nice winter breeze. I only have a vague idea of our location - some Earth Kingdom town, likely - but the air is clear. I debate leaving the ship again to go to the market, but it's too early for any stalls to be open and Zuko could arrive back in the skiff at any moment.
Instead of leaving, I sit down on the deck, close to where the gangplank gets pulled back into the ship. Zuko and Iroh won't board the ship this way, since they'll just drive the skiff back into the little dock somewhere below deck. The conversation with the pirates still sits heavily in my stomach, muddling into anxiety.
Deep breath in, hold, and out, all the worries flow out of me.
At least, that's how it's supposed to work.
Everything is too jumbled for me to actually let my worries flow out of me like air.
I lean forward, arms on legs. I am exhausted with myself.
The spiritual aspects of airbending always seemed to elude me. Now even so, with no one really left to guide me. I feel the blockage in my stomach and in my heart, chi tight and clogging up everything. It was a stream badly affected by algae and debris. And at the end of the stream was a pool too empty to draw water from.
The chatter of Zuko, loud and boisterous, and Iroh, calm against his nephew's storm, pulled me out of my thoughts. "I can't believe you wasted all our time looking for your dumb tile and it was on your person the whole time!"
"If someone hadn't thrown it down a waterfall, I wouldn't have had to bargain for a new one."
"What were you doing all day yesterday? You found one instantly!"
"Nephew, I have my own connections. Like I've said before, the White Lotus tile is very important in my Pai Sho strategy. Sometimes, it takes a carver a good period of time to craft the right one. You should ask Zia about crafting, right, Zia?"
"Good morning to you two," I say, not standing up. Back leaning against the deck, I check over all of them. Zuko looks exhausted. "Out all night? Where's the skiff?"
Zuko groans, walking away from me and toward his rooms.
"I assume that means there is no longer a skiff, Iroh?" I ask, looking up at the elderly man. He does not seem as tired as Zuko. Or he's better at hiding it than him.
He nods, holding out a hand to help me stand. "There is no longer a skiff. Some pirates drove it down a waterfall. Come, I think I smell some breakfast."
"I hope it's congee."
"Me too. Jee makes an excellent porridge."
Iroh spends a brief hour with me in my room, showing me how to play my xun properly. He is patient where his nephew is quick to anger. I question myself how these two are from the same family, though I do not voice this to Iroh. There is obviously a missing connection between the two of them. One that made Iroh to the person he is today.
From the folds of his robe, he pulls out a piece of sheet music for this week's music night. He shows me how to read the different notes and what they mean on the xun. It takes me a few tries outside of Iroh's guidance to actually get everything to sound right. A few times, I hear footsteps pause outside of my open door. Later, I catch Zuko crossing my door, trying hard not to look in.
I hope he attends music night.
For a week or two, life falls into a routine. Zuko and I train, me watching him circle different opponents. Him watching me, but only in secret, as I dance with the wind. I do not question his gaze, and I keep my despair deep within my own chest.
Sometimes, some of the soldiers will join our training sessions. We have included firebending now, since Zuko wants to. "I won't hold back on the Avatar. So not bending is useless for me," he says.
"Zuko, I never said you couldn't not bend. That was your own inclination. I can handle myself without bending just as well with it. There are different techniques, but the strategy of airbending is the same."
After the first lesson with firebending, Iroh sits me down with tea. He seems happy. Content with the practices. I do not know what he wants out of all this. Does he think capturing Aang will solve all of Zuko's problems?
"Oh, no. It won't at all. But this gives Zuko something to do. He used to spend too much time holed up in his room, planning for the Avatar. Now that you are here, he has a way to test out those plans."
"He knows that we're two different people, right? That my movements are my own, and that Aang may do something completely different? Especially since he's learning different elements."
"Before you came along, Zuko was rigid. Stale. He isn't completely embracing your techniques." I glance over at Zuko, watch him fight the urge to root down in one spot, against the soldiers. "It is a process. He is learning. This is not about copying the Avatar's movements. It is about learning that from another element or nation, you can gain knowledge."
"Even if there is only a handful of that nation left?"
"Even more so. Your wisdom here is invaluable. From watching the waterbenders, I created a new move. It is possible."
"Did you know that, if you created a new move, you were given mastery level at the temples?" I lean forward to grab my cup of tea. The smell overwhelms me briefly, and I smile. "Aang's the youngest master of airbending ever. He got his tattoos early. He is the pinnacle of understanding airbending. Not that the other option is better."
"Other option?"
"Me. I only know the movements, Iroh. All Air Nomads are airbenders. But there are always those that can fall into the cracks. I feel like I have fallen into a crack."
"You can always be pulled out. There is always a chance to recover, no matter how far you've fallen."
I glance at him, an understanding sparking between us. "You think your bending is lost." He waves over at Zuko, circling Jee. "You are merely repurposing yourself until you find it again. We are here to pull you out, whenever you are ready, Zia."