It's not long before winter yawns and curls away, leaving room for warmth to stretch its limbs. The snow departs reluctantly, vanishing in patches until the courtyard is slick with the melted remains. Shallow puddles accumulate under rafters and walls where water leaks down in eager rivulets. A damp clay smell joins the familiar, crisp scent of the mountains and Nya spends a lot of time sitting outside, listening to spring's gentle invasion.
It's been quite some time since Garmadon and the Underworld. Minus her more recent encounter with the Skulkin, the world seems unnaturally at ease. No immediate threats or perils, no more mind-bending revelations regarding elemental powers or ancient evils. If Nya didn't know any better, she'd be obliged to assume they were out of troubled waters for good.
She does know better, though; make no mistake. Change has a way of pulling the rug out from under you, just when you've found your footing.
Still, she's been breathing a bit more easily. So have the others. In fact, the guys have been breathing too easily, if you ask her. Sensei Wu is under a similar impression.
"I wonder if I've gone too soft on them," he muses on a bright afternoon, after one of Nya's rounds on the training course.
She looks up from the floor, where she's working through some cool-down stretches. "What do you mean?"
Sensei gazes past her shoulder, thoughtfully perched on the short set of stairs. One hand is tight around his staff while the other pulls absently at the silvery length of his beard.
"You are eager, Nya," he says. "But while I appreciate your seemingly limitless reserves of self-motivation, I fear that the others require..."
"Incentive?" she supplies.
"Something to that degree."
Nya reaches for her toes, feeling the satisfying pull in her hamstrings. Winter weathered away some of her flexibility, so she's been having to really focus on building it up again.
She has noticed the apparent slow decline of the guys' initiative. When the aftermath of their first tangle with Garmadon was still fresh, Sensei had them running drills every morning, sometimes before the sun was fully up. But as he began to slacken his grasp on routine, the ninja saw their opportunity and took it.
Not that they're not capable. But Nya's not too confident in their overall technique right about now.
"They're boys," she says, as if that's a suitable explanation.
Sensei raises a brow at her, his eyes glimmering amusedly. "Too true. However, I fail to see the correlation."
Nya shrugs. "Maybe they have short attention spans. They're teenagers. Someone probably just needs to keep them on track."
"Are you not a teenager also?"
Oh, yeah. "I am," says Nya, ducking her head. "But that's different."
"How so?"
The blink blink blink of memories goes off like flashbulbs. Nya is blinded by familiar images, familiar failures. Her, hiding. Him, shouting. Someone, bleeding. Late nights and gray, hopeless mornings.
Taunting schoolmate laughter. Dejected walks beside a brother who swears he'll handle it, he'll fix it, don't worry.
And that white-hot, heart-stuttering resolve, flaring behind her collarbones, pushing her to be more.
Be more. Be better. Be powerful.
"It's different," Nya starts, slowly, "when you have something to prove. I—don't get me wrong, I like the guys a lot—but I think they're over-confident. They're not masters of anything yet, but they think they've learned all there is. Magic powers, magic weapons, boom, they're set. Without something to work for, they're bored.
"Meanwhile, I still feel like the weak link. I mean, I'm not blind, you know? I'm not as big as them, I'm not as experienced, I don't have elemental powers, I can't do Spinjitzu, and I'm a girl. Might as well go ahead and write liability on my forehead. If somebody wants to get to them, I'm an easy target."
"Nya—"
"It's true, though," she says, only a little sorry for interrupting. "That's how it's always been. That's how it was at home, that's how it was at school, and that's how it is now. It's like I'm—Kai's Achilles' heel or something."
She switches legs, stretching toward her right foot and trying her best not to sound downtrodden when she says, "I'm trying to change that. That's my incentive."
There is a breathless bit of silence.
"You fear weakness," says Sensei.
Nya scowls at the ground. "I personally wouldn't phrase it like that, but. I guess."
"Fear can hold us back."
"I know."
"It can also be an excellent motivator."
"...I know."
"And in your expert opinion—" and Nya doesn't miss the shift of inflection on expert, "—what do the ninja fear?"
For an offkey beat, Nya can't tell whether he's serious or just messing with her. Sensei's not big on practical jokes, but this also seems like a dilemma worthy of more qualified consultation. She doesn't want to let him down...
"Right now," Nya starts, choosing her words prudently, "I'm not sure they fear anything. Maybe Garmadon, but you know what they say: out of sight, out of mind."
Sensei hums reflectively. "Perhaps I should reintroduce sunrise exercise."
Nya can't help but wince a little. She was never a fan of sunrise exercise, even though it didn't typically require her attendance. It did, however, entail lots of thumping and clattering as the ninja fumbled through a half-awake, resentful morning routine. She likes slow mornings. Ones that don't involve very tired, very vocal teenage boys.
"They could definitely use some structure," she admits. "Might wanna ease them into it, though. Let 'em think it's their idea."
The doors are ajar, and from inside the monastery comes a bellow of rage. At first, Nya mistakes it for a scream of danger and is almost to her feet when Kai's voice rings out loud and clear.
"You dirt-brained, back-stabbing rat!"
Cole's laughter overlaps. "Kai, re-lax. It's—"
"Do you know how long it took me to get that high-score? Yesterday I sat here for six hours—"
"And I beat it in thirty minutes."
A foreboding moment of silence.
Then Kai's "I'm gonna—" is punctuated by Cole's fearful yelp and several worrisome thuds, followed by a crash. Zane and Jay join the fray with calls of "Brothers, please behave rationally" and "Don't hit the TV!" respectively.
With admirable levels of tact, Sensei stands up and nudges the door shut with his staff.
"You may be right," he says, drooping.
He looks so weary that it's sort of comical. It's like he's finally recognizing how much work it is to corral and synchronize a group of hyperactive kids. Nya's not immune to a little amusement. But at the same time, Sensei's been awfully scatterbrained recently and she doesn't want him to hit a breaking point.
She grimaces sympathetically. "Want me to start the water for some tea?"
"Would you, Nya? Thank you."
She figures she'll brew that zen-something-or-other kind that he has. Maybe two bags, this time. He looks like he could use a strong batch.
Sensei doesn't act on his simmering qualms until three days later. The ninja are scattered all over the monastery, grouchy because Cole finally convinced them to start the imposing task of packing away the Christmas decorations.
Zane is outside, precariously scaling and descending ladders as he collects the strings of lights. Cole is wandering around, taking care of miscellaneous tasks, such as gathering the copious amounts of mistletoe Jay had plastered to the top of every single doorway.
Meanwhile, Jay himself is occupied with the Christmas tree, and Nya is helping. The ornaments, one will recall, are exclusively household items and knick-knacks, and getting them all back to their proper homes is proving to be rather tedious.
"Uh...hot sauce," says Nya, plucking it from a branch.
Jay has managed to become completely tangled in several feet of tinsel. "Kitchen," he says, unwinding a long, silver quantity from one arm.
Nya brings the bottle closer to her face, eyeing the label. "It's expired."
"Kitchen."
"It's expired."
"Never stopped Cole before."
Nya jerks her head up, appalled. "What."
Kai, who had been tasked with cleaning out the fridge, walks by just then, plucking the hot sauce from Nya's grasp. He squints at the expiration date then turns the corners of his mouth down, as if to say eh, not so bad.
Nya makes a sound of disgust, turning away. "Unbelievable."
"It only expired a few weeks ago."
"Only?"
While Nya has admittedly picked up a few troubling practices from her forced integration into this masculine habitat (i.e., falling into chairs instead of lowering slowly) (i.e., putting on whatever clothes are lying around, whether they're hers or not), she is proud to report that she's never grown lax about expiration dates. She doesn't care for acute rupturing of the stomach, thank you very much.
Kai makes off with the offending item and Nya pulls the I Heart Ninjago City keychain off the tree. She dangles it within Jay's line of sight.
"Tourist thingy?" she says.
Jay's face changes slightly with recognition and he holds out his hand. "Oh, that's mine."
Nya drops it into his eager palm. "You've been to Ninjago City?"
"Eh...once or twice."
"Neat." She beckons him closer, reaching for the stubborn coil of tinsel wrapped around Jay's other arm. "Did your parents take you?"
"No."
"You went alone?"
She doesn't mean for it to come out so emphatically, but Jay's not much older than she is. The idea of going anywhere by herself when she was younger is completely unfamiliar. Kai used to freak if she went down the street without telling him.
That seems like a long time ago.
Jay shrugs, finally shaking off the last clinging remainders of tinsel. "My folks didn't mind."
"Your 'folks' sound very cool," Nya says with a laugh. She turns back to the tree and retrieves a set of plastic measuring spoons. "Kai! More kitchen stuff!"
While she waits for her brother to materialize again, Nya tilts her head at Jay. "So, what was a kid like you doing alone in the city?"
"Kid like me? What's that supposed to mean?" His tone is challenging, a little teasing. She doesn't hate it.
"I just meant—well, you don't strike me as the urban jungle type."
Jay laughs out of the corner of his mouth and, somewhere in the labyrinth of her mind, Nya is aware that he's looking at her in a very specific sort of way. He's looking at her in the way one might regard a distant beacon of light. As though she were a coveted location. A refuge.
A lighthouse, maybe, she muses, and then immediately takes the thought by its collar and slams it to the ground. Clearly she is not to be trusted with any modicum of male attention or she starts hallucinating.
Noted.
"You would be correct," says Jay, and it takes Nya a second too long to remember what they had been talking about.
In a rare stroke of divine timing, Kai wanders into the room. Nya swivels to face him, her mouth poised to offer a subject-changing comment, and she sees what Kai is holding.
Her jaw goes slack. "You didn't."
Kai is holding a sandwich. Between the slices of bread, layers of some indistinguishable meat are slathered in a suspicious scarlet liquid.
He rolls his eyes. "Relax."
"Please tell me that's not—"
"—the perfectly good hot sauce?" Kai offers. He brandishes the sandwich defiantly and takes a bite. "Why, yes. Yes it is."
Nya gags, shoving the measuring spoons into Jay's hands and bending at the hip.
Jay pats her on the shoulder, offering, "Okay, break time. Take five."
"Actually, everyone take five," says Cole, striding through the doorway. "Sensei called a team meeting."
Nya perks up, curious, as Jay throws his head back. Very dramatic. She's worried he's going to sprain something one of these days.
"Sr's'ly?" Kai mumbles, still chewing. "Boooo."
Cole, immune to these reactions by now, gestures c'mon with one arm. They trot after him. No one invites Nya and she doesn't ask to tag along. Frankly, she's fine sitting this one out. For one thing, she is fairly certain of what Sensei's going to tell them. For another, Kai's hot sauce bit really had nauseated her. Boys.
Anyway, she gets an earful later that night. It's late and Jay is in the TV room, subjecting Cole and Zane to a Starfarer marathon. Kai had been there, too, but eventually retired early under the pretense of "prioritizing his beauty rest." Nya, of course, knows better. So she'd followed him. And he let her.
Now she's sprawled across one of the top bunks in the boys' room, vacantly observing the ceiling as Kai changes into pajamas down below. He's ranting, too.
"—because, I mean, it's not like any of us asked for this. I didn't wake up one morning like, woohoo, I've always wanted to control fire! So it just feels a little unfair to keep piling on more responsibility—"
Sensei had gathered the ninja to discuss the matter of full potential. Although, from what Nya understands, he conveniently failed to mention the prophecy. Possibly for a good reason, but more probably for a bad one.
"—emotional blockage, whatever that means. Way too ambiguous, I hate ambiguity. It's like, when we were learning Spinjitzu, he was all, 'just spin!'. And I was like, huh?—"
Kai slams a dresser drawer closed and Nya risks a peek at him, hoping he's fully clothed. Not that she hasn't seen him in a variety of odd and/or embarrassing situations before (round-the-clock proximity to a person will do that, unfortunately), but she'd like to avoid that particular one for as long as humanly possible. Ideally forever.
The odds are in her favor; Kai is clad in his pajamas (a matching set, because of course). He's digging through another drawer, muttering to himself about something.
Nya pushes up on her elbows, scooting closer to the bed's low guardrail. In a moment of impulse, she crawls on top of it and hooks her knees over, letting herself fall backwards so she can hang upside-down. The room flips, whirls, and steadies.
Absently, Kai glances over his shoulder. "Careful."
"Hanging upside-down is supposed to help you think."
"Yeah? Says who?"
"Says science. Something about the increased blood flow to your brain. Better circulation. And it can decompress the spine, too, which you might wanna look into. Since—y'know. Parkour and all."
"My spine is just fantastic, thanks."
"Science also says that high-impact gymnastics can be really hard on your vertebrae."
Kai holds a pair of plaid pajama pants in front of him, frowning. "And what does science say about cracking your head open from an upside-down plummet from the top bunk?"
Nya purses her lips, pretending to think. "Mm, not advisable."
"I'm shocked."
Unprompted, Kai chucks the pants at Nya, who nearly topples off the edge in her haste to catch them. She gives an irritated squawk.
"Sorry, do you want me to crack my head open?"
"Take those."
"Why."
"They're too short on me," Kai says. "I'm officially growing."
"Again?"
"Looks like it."
This is one of those things that raises a miniature flag deep in Nya's subconscious. Namely, the fact that a good 90% of her wardrobe belongs or has belonged to a guy. She grew out of her childhood articles quite some time ago and, since funds didn't exactly allow a shopping spree, ended up receiving whatever didn't fit Kai anymore.
Walter was always kind and offered to pick some clothes up here and there. He bought both of the only two dresses Nya owns, but she hasn't been wearing them lately. Somewhere between Underworld hostage situation and moving into a mancave situation, she's learned to appreciate a good pair of jeans. Even if they're hand-me-downs.
Still. Might be nice to call something hers every now and then.
She takes the dumb pajama pants anyway, chucking them up onto the mattress. Gravity coaxes her hair toward the floor and Nya relishes in the feeling of it being off her neck.
"Aren't you excited?" she asks.
"About what?"
"The full potential stuff. I mean—it's cool, right?"
She asks the question with more genuine curiosity than actual assurance. Sensei had only told her the bare minimum, and she never did really understand elemental powers anyway.
Kai heaves a sigh, dropping into the lower bed of the other bunk. "Yeah. I guess so."
Nya may be upside-down, but she still catches the look on her brother's face. It's the distant, vaguely worried expression that means Nya's going to have to pry something out of him.
"You guess so?" she begins, crossing both arms over her chest. It's probably comical with her hanging inverted like this.
"It's just one more thing to worry about."
"I didn't realize there were other things."
Kai gives her an unimpressed glare. "Nya. Honestly."
"What? Garmadon? Yeah, he'll come back. What else?"
"Everything else," says Kai, raking a hand through his hair. The jagged terrain of it becomes consequently more hazardous. "There are other threats out there. And we're not exactly pros."
"So? That's what practice is for."
"And Sensei makes it sound like our success is riding on these true potentials, but we don't actually know how to unlock them. Or when we will. Who knows? Jay could unlock his tomorrow and I could unlock mine—months from now."
Nya struggles to read between the lines, digging for subtext. Anxiety is certain but is she also detecting jealousy? A hint of subconscious comparison? To Jay, specifically, or to the world in general?
"Well," she says, "Sensei doesn't expect you to figure it out right away."
"But I should—would you get down please?"
Nya stills. Kai never yells at her, but that had come daringly close to the realm of raising his voice, which is just outside the yelling zone. Dutifully, she grabs the bed rail and flips down. Dizziness knocks her off-balance, but thankfully the bottom bunk breaks her fall.
She sits up, watching Kai carefully. He grinds the heels of his palms into his eyes, elbows resting on his knees.
"Sorry," he mutters.
"You're stressed."
"Mm."
"What're you stressed about?" she asks, then adds, "For real."
He doesn't reply for a while, and Nya gives him time. This is a familiar scenario. She's not comfortable, per se, but the picture before her is rather reminiscent of a time before Garmadon and ninja. Kai would get like this a lot—all moody and reserved, usually overwhelmed by their perilous financial situation. He'd spiral into the vortex. And Nya would sit across from him, like this, and talk him out of it.
Some things never change, apparently.
"I'm gonna say something stupid," Kai forewarns, with earnestness.
Nya gives a sweep of her hand. "Proceed."
He does, gnawing his lip. "If I can impress Sensei by unlocking my true potential—"
"Let me stop you right there—"
"I said it was gonna be stupid, the least you could do is let me finish—"
"You don't have to prove anything. You know that, right?"
A tumbleweed couldn't have given her a drier look if it tried. Kai tips his head. "Have you ever heard that one about the pot and the kettle—?"
"Okay, shut up. I know." She walked right into that one. "So I'm a hypocrite. Whatever. The point is, you're literally the best fighter here. There's nothing to prove."
"Not true."
Nya, tiring quickly of this fruitless battle, lowers herself to the floor. "Oh, do enlighten me."
"Nya..."
"No, really. This oughta be good."
"I just—how am I supposed to—"
And then silence. Nya looks up and witnesses the exact moment that Kai slams up an emotional wall. She is briefly hurt, then sympathetic. He's not obligated to elaborate, after all. Really, he doesn't even need to. Nya already gets it.
She attempts to say as much when their eyes meet, but Kai waves her off.
"Anyway," he says, signaling the end of that particular topic. "What's new with you?"
Nya obliges, but not without giving him a knowing glare. "Nothing. The usual."
"Sounds boring."
"It is." One of her internal light bulbs flickers on. "Hey, speaking of which, I was wondering if you'd be able to give me a ride."
Kai eyes her. "Where to?"
"Home."
She sees his expression soften, the harder lines of it flattening into the younger, open version of his face that she's more familiar with. It's like he's looking through some distant window. Remembering there was a life before this.
"Is Jay busy this time or something?" he asks, coming back. He rolls his shoulders.
Nya opens her mouth to respond when it hits her. She gapes.
"Wh—you knew?"
"Of course I did."
"How?"
"I know all."
This is obviously not the case, but Nya still leans back to sulk. Where's the fun in sneaking around if it's not even a secret?
"I get it," says Kai, tugging at a stray thread in the sheets. "If you're homesick—I mean, if you miss it, I wouldn't be—well." He sighs. "It's normal, is what I'm trying to say."
Homesick isn't how she'd put it. But if she doesn't get her hands on her mech sometime soon, her skills are going to get rusty. She already feels the whisper of temptation, the voice urging her to just leave it.
Just give up. Find a new dream.
But giving up is not an option. She's come too far to leave a perfectly good project unfinished. And—what would Walter say?
Subdued, Nya flicks a glance at her brother. "How soon could we leave?"
He twists his mouth, likely envisioning patrol schedules (being sorely neglected as of late, but that's irrelevant) and cooking rotations and high scores and dragon racing.
Kai says, "Next weekend, maybe."
"But that's—" Nya takes a quick count, "—that's, like, ten days away!"
"Take it or leave it."
She glares, holding Kai's gaze and wishing desperately to spontaneously manifest the elemental power of brother-melting laser vision.
"Fine," she says through her teeth.
"Fine. Great." Kai flops backwards. "Now get outta here. I'm tired."
She snatches the stupid pants off the top bunk and mocks him on her way out, narrowly dodging the pillow that goes tumbling through the air.
Maybe ten days isn't such a terrible amount of time. After all, she'll need to think of some way to get Kai off the premises while she tests the mech. That kind of puzzle could take at least a week.
Over the next few days, Sensei does implement some mandatory training sessions, but Nya steers clear. Ever since the "true potential" reveal, Kai's demeanor has grown progressively more withdrawn, and the others are starting to notice. Which means, of course, that Kai is noticing them noticing him, and his mood resultantly plummets with increased speed.
But Nya has seen these choppy waters before and she knows what her best option is.
Finding something else to do.
While a mountain residence is always leaning on the brisker side of things, spring's approach has mellowed out the weather to an impressive degree. As Sensei has the others running drills, Nya slips through the gates and luxuriates in the smell of the air.
She'd always loved the scent of spring. It's fresh, stirred soil and the promise of rain. And there's something softer, something sleepy. Like lilacs.
Back home, the trees are probably preparing their blooms. By mid-March, the cherry blossoms will be pink and plentiful, and in April the apple trees will be flowering across the hillsides, carpeting the grass with petals.
Nya does miss Ignacia. The rural quietness of it and the feeling of solid earth under her feet. She misses their routine, the sunrise through the window, the cluttered warmth of the forge.
She's not homesick, exactly. Maybe—something like home-deficient. Home-weak.
Whatever, she never claimed to be a wordsmith.
With an exhale, Nya lowers herself onto the stairs, drawing her knees in. A crisp breeze tosses her hair around and she tucks it behind her ears. It's past her shoulders again. She wonders if Kai will offer to cut it or if she should just go ahead and try it herself.
The towering wooden doors creak open and Nya turns to find Sensei Wu behind her, his hat askew and shadows under his eyes. Inside, training noises persist.
"That bad, huh?" asks Nya.
Sensei's eyebrow twitches but he doesn't smile. "They are...finding their footing again."
"Ah." She imagines the ninja tripping over each other's feet and fumbling with their weapons. "Are they at least trying?"
"Indeed."
"Good."
She folds her arms over her knees and rests her chin there. Sensei observes her keenly, and Nya anticipates a remark about how she should be in there, training with the others. Iron sharpens iron and all that wisdom baloney, blah blah blah.
Instead, Sensei raises his hand and points west, toward a jagged, comparatively small cluster of mountain peaks.
"You know," he says, an edge of mischief in his tone, "I don't believe you've been introduced to our neighbors."
Nya looks into the distance, seeing nothing.
"Neighbors?"
Sensei nods once. "We are not the only occupants of the mountain range. There is a modest settlement, only a short distance from here. Jamanakai Village."
"Really?"
Sensei's social arsenal, along with being generally predictable, is not of a vast nature. He's not fond of crude humor or long-winded explanations. Sarcasm isn't his strong suit, but he's been known to surprise them. And besides the occasional coy dance move, he's not particularly one for garish celebration. Cruel jokes are also missing from that arsenal.
Which is how Nya knows he must be serious.
And she also knows what he's suggesting.
"Theoretically," Nya says, pressing her knuckles to her mouth, "how would one get to this village?"
Staring serenely into the layers of clouds and mist, Sensei tilts his head. He gives a subtle lift of his shoulder.
"Well, these steps would take one down to a footpath, which, if followed, would lead one to a quite conspicuous red bridge. Then, if they chose to cross the bridge, one would find oneself on a brief, uphill amble to the charming residential gem of Jamanakai Village." His eyes twinkle merrily. "That is, if one doesn't mind the walk."
No worries there; Nya's already on her feet.
"Is this—are you giving me permission? Is that what this is?" Freedom. Nya takes an overeager step forward, then freezes. "Wait—you can't tell Kai. He'll flip."
"A movement befitting a ninja."
Funny, really, how this is one of those rare glimpses of sarcasm. You know, now that she actually needs him to comprehend her meaning.
"I'm serious. It's stupid, but he's already moody and if he hears I left without—"
"Left?" The shadow of Sensei's hat obscures most of his eyes, but Nya could swear that he winks. "Why, you haven't gone anywhere."
His mouth curves up, somewhere beneath the cascade of his beard, and he ducks back into the courtyard without another glance.
And Nya decides Sensei is cool as hell.
Hastily, she scrambles down the first few steps, powered solely by curiosity and the overwhelming thirst for a change of scenery. The mist thickens as she goes, the uneven spiral of stairs plunging lower into obscurity. Nya hadn't thought to bring anything with her—which, in hindsight, was probably a poor choice—but she's far too lively to care.
The monastery, for all its architectural marvels and homey accents, is starting to smother her. She hasn't been off the peak since the botched mission quite a few weeks back. Cabin fever has been lurking under her skin like a virus.
Fortunately, going down the stairs is hardly a laborious task. Going back up will be another story, but she'd much rather speculate on what kind of place Jamanakai Village is.
Sensei Wu called it a "modest settlement," though—him being a descendant of the First Spinjitzu Master, and all—that might not mean "small." Nya had thought the monastery was worthy of mansion status, and Sensei called it "humble." But that's beside the point.
She pushes into an expanse of fog so dense that the stairs seem to dissolve into particles. Nya slows her pace, carefully picking her way down. Each step materializes one after another, like divinely situated platforms.
The haze clears all at once in a blaze of afternoon light; she's passed under the lingering cushion of clouds that now forms a cottony ceiling into which the recently traveled stairs disappear.
Nya exhales. The air is warmer down here. Insulated. She'd almost forgotten the lucidity of lower atmospheres.
After that, the rest of the descent is a breeze. A footpath sprouts from the side of the stairs, leading off into the mountains. Sensei hadn't specifically stated where it would be, but Nya assumes the bridge is somewhere on that very path—otherwise she'll end up at the bottom of the mountain. Shrugging, she takes the detour.
Sunlight streaks through cracks in the clouds, beaming down across patches of snow and silt. Briefly, Nya stops to admire a sprouting columbine. The delicate bud is a blotch of violet in the grey.
It's something of a hike, but so worth it. When Nya spots the bridge, her first thought is, Sensei wasn't kidding. It is conspicuous.
While the walkway is cobbled stone, the rails, beams, and pillars are cherry-red wood. Moss paves the worn material in a quilt of earthen green, and below, the mountainside dips into outcroppings and slanted surfaces. Some distance away, hidden like a floating oasis, there are rooftops.
Fairytales have nothing on this.
Nya steps onto the bridge, half-expecting some sort of troll to materialize with a riddle she's meant to solve in exchange for passage. Instead, she's met with nothing but the creak of aged wood and a distinct thrill. It's a bit like the old days, when she would take off on her own, trekking down the road to Walter's. There's something almost illicit about independence, about the raw, untethered risk of it.
Jamanakai Village is compact, but vivid. Nya climbs the path with little difficulty (those training sessions are starting to pay off) and emerges at the entrance of the town.
"Whoa," she breathes out.
The village is walled in, surrounded by a circular, beige perimeter of solid stone. The residences are organized and carefully placed, all brick-colored tiles and wooden accents. There's some sort of sweet shop in a line of what appears to be local businesses. A weathered sign outside of one store boasts, LOCALLY GROWN TEA AND HERBS. Another sign, advertising an inn, claims, FREE BREAKFAST (WEEKENDS ONLY). Nya wanders through the town square, craning her neck to follow the strings of lights hung from roof to roof. Her eyes snag on a glimmer of movement and there's a soft tugging sensation behind her sternum.
The focal point of the village is a grand, stone fountain. Twinkling jets of water spout from the open mouths of three jade dragon statues, splashing regally down into tiered basins. The water flows from the bottom vessel, splitting off into carved irrigation fissures in the ground. Nya traces them visually, seeing how they crawl across the whole town like veins. A network of hydration. Accessible resources for everyone. Clever.
"Hello."
Nya shrieks, jumping halfway out of her skin. To her left, an old woman is sheepishly frozen, a wary smile on her face.
"Hi," says Nya, recovering. She breathes a laugh. "Sorry. Didn't see you."
"No apology necessary," the woman assures. Her voice is rough, like crunching gravel underfoot, and somehow an octave too high for her face. She has a wise, knowing disposition, but there's a distinctly youthful edge to her body language.
"Pardon my forwardness, but—I don't believe I've seen you here before," she continues.
Nya flounders, momentarily wondering if this is a private community and Sensei just got her in big trouble.
"I..."
The woman chuckles. "At ease, child. It's a small town, and I never forget a face."
"Oh." Nya reddens. "Well. I'm not from here, that's for sure."
"Where? If you don't mind my asking."
"Ignacia." Upon reflection, Nya thinks it's maybe not the best idea to readily declare personal information—such as hometowns—to strangers, but she doesn't live there anymore, so. That makes it okay. Probably.
"Ignacia!" The woman says it like some sort of spell. "Long way from home, no?"
"Actually—well, it was home. I live across the bridge. At the, um...monastery." And there goes more private information.
"Not Wu's monastery, surely?"
Nya blinks. "You know him?"
"Know him? Wu and I—what is it that you kids say? We, ah, go way back."
"Wow! No wonder he was so cool about me visiting. I didn't know he had friends here."
The woman inclines her head. "Friends...is a strong word. But yes, I know Wu well. His brother, too. During the—"
"You know Garmadon?!"
Nya slaps a hand over her mouth, too aware of the way her words are ricocheting off the inner walls of the village. She earns a few glances from passersby, but they only eye the old lady silently and continue on their way.
Quieter, Nya says, "Lord Garmadon? Like—Ruler of Darkness, Master of Destruction, that Garmadon?"
With a cheerful curve of her mouth, the woman lifts a shoulder indifferently. "When I knew him, he was just Garmadon. None of this ruler nonsense."
It's not a thought she'd dare express aloud, but Nya has to wonder—how old is this woman?
More importantly, what else does she know?
Nya sticks out her hand. "I'm Nya. One of Wu's—students. He sent me "
The woman shakes it warmly. "Students, you say? I see the old man hasn't run out of energy yet."
It's not a judgmental comment; Nya can feel the fondness of it, the underlying history. Again, she wonders about this woman's age. And how, pray tell, did she stumble across two sons of the First Spinjitzu Master?
"I guess not."
"How many are there?"
"How many what?"
"Students."
Nya figures she's well past the point of withholding information. This lady already knows where they live.
"Four," says Nya. "Five, I guess. If you count me."
"And why wouldn't I?" the woman asks, sounding scandalized.
"Well, I'm sort of—" Nya hesitates. She's not sure if she's supposed to talk about elemental powers. "The others are the official students. My brother's one of them, so I'm here...by default."
The woman nods, eyes narrowed in a manner that suggests she's not quite sold. "I see. So your brother is what? The Master of...?"
Nya goes still, all previous trains of thought colliding violently until there is white-hot silence where activity once lived.
"W—what?"
"Your brother. He is the Elemental Master of something, yes? Which is it, fire or water?"
Nya swallows. It goes down like glue. "Um. Fire." A beat. "How did you—"
"And you are water?"
"...No."
"No?" The woman dips her head incredulously, her brow set in utter disbelief. "You are Maya's daughter, are you not? Maya and Ray Smith?"
"How—?" Nya frowns, shaking her head quickly. "You knew my parents?"
The woman's cheek moves subtly, hinting at a smile. "I knew many people. One could say I am accustomed to moving around."
Nya nods, not really listening. She's only capable of thinking one thing right now, and it's that this woman knew her parents. She saw them alive. She—
Sharply, Nya's head snaps up and the breath of a question forms on her parted lips. The old woman raises a hand to stop her.
"I knew because you resemble her. Your mother."
Oh.
There's a string, somewhere deep within the most remote crevice of Nya's very being. It's a string that she guards with her life, her breath, her soul. That string, if accidentally found and touched by some stray comment or sensation, is known to vibrate frantically until Nya's eyes spill over with saltwater and her mind leans into forbidden, impossible territory. Connected to that string, as one might've guessed, is anything even distantly involving her parents.
Which is why Nya keeps that invisible string buried in folds of other things. Anger, confidence, determination, exhaustion, anxiety. They're all better than what she's feeling right now. They're better than this raw, biting ache.
"I do?" asks Nya, and she feels herself giving in. She's giving in to grief. And along with grief comes that inevitable, loathsome counterpart.
Desperation.
It's a sharp-toothed, ragged desire to hear everything she can. To discover someone that might know something, someone that remembers how her parents moved and spoke and behaved.
Was her mother's voice soft or coarse? Did her father take large steps when he walked? Before there was Kai, what did her parents do for fun? Were they good at chess? She's always wanted to be good at chess. Did her mother like strawberries, too? Was her father good at dancing? Nya remembers an old, slow song from her childhood. Did her parents play the record and sway together, hands interlocked, foreheads touching?
God speed your love to me, lonely rivers flow to the sea...
Nya breathes in, feeling her lungs expand greedily. The outside world fades back into jarring focus.
There's a word or a phrase or a scream on the tip of Nya's tongue but what actually comes out is a sudden question.
"Are you busy right now?"
The woman, oddly or maybe expectedly, does not seem surprised. "Not," she says, "at the moment."
"Would you want to—go somewhere? And talk?"
"Oh, darling, I thought you'd never ask. Come, come. I know just the place."
She starts off at a brisk pace, forcing Nya to launch into motion. As they march away from the fountain, Nya is struck by a realization.
"I didn't catch your name," she says.
The woman glances back, a shrewd gleam in her eyes. "You may call me Mystake."
A/N:
a few things:
- i know i said on tumblr that this chapter would be up, like, forever ago. however that did not happen, as life decided to drop me suddenly and mercilessly into the Bottomless Pit. so. it's late! sorry folks.
- i know i also intended for lloyd to enter the picture in this chapter. but the truth is, the chapter was TOO DAMN LONG. so i actually had to split it up into halves. green machine is now in part 2.
- this means the next chapter will be up fairly soon, because it's written. i just have to edit.
- on that note, if you see any typos in this chapter, no you don't.
- the outline for this chapter was so long, and i only accomplished ONE (1) item on it before i was at like 3,000 words. hence the splitting into halves. i can't help it, i like to RAMBLE.
- thank you for reading and commenting and etc! love u bye bye