And by the time I became one myself a few months later, we didn't really see each other anymore.
His places to haunt are the upper ring, and the sons and daughters of councilmembers. Mine are the marketplace, the palace and the wall. At night, it's the bars, and there we give each other nods, and move on to our respective circles.
...
Seeing the city shrink away to toy houses beneath us, we rise above, and it becomes apparent that it was carved from the cliffside, this home of ours. Like an extra-dimensional circular biscuit cutter, waterbenders from all over the north pole worked together on a full moon to create this safe haven. A bastion of ice and beauty. I'm always slightly humbled when I see it, and imagine what it must have taken to bend it.
There aren't any written accounts of that time, which is a shame. There are scrolls on waterbending, and maps. But that's about it. All historic accounts are delivered in stories told by our elders, or our teachers who show us how to read.
We're literate only to trade properly, and be able to scribble down a message. I managed to get my hands on some of Pakku's books, which were largely on tactics, and the types of animals living in the ocean. Other than that, I have not needed to read. There was little to read. All my knowledge of this world I have from Pakku and what else I could pick up on on my own.
I slow our ascent in preparation of the gust of wind that always greets us at the top of this wall bracketing the city. It usually tries to force whoever dares climb here back down, but I've learned a few tricks along the way. I bend us a bit of protection against that gale, and we walk comfortably to the watchtower. This always reminds me of walking beneath an umbrella in the wind, because it creates the same kind of hair-whipping.
Smoothly, I create an overhang as we reach the tower, and bend us an entrance. One small problem about living in a city created and ruled by waterbenders is that important structures are usually only accessible with a bender. There are no normal doors here.
I don't mind it, but Yue would probably like it if she could go to her favourite spot on her own. Not, that her father would allow it. I'm not quite sure that she's crafty enough to escape her efforts. Especially if it's a known spot she disappears to. But I might not be giving her enough credit.
Inside the tower it's warmer, but dark. We don't have torches lining the ice walls.
Yue no longer needs a guiding hand to find the stairs and so I follow her silently. Reaching the door, Yue opens it, just enough to slip through. I follow.
"Princess," Kesuk, the guard for today greets, knowing her habits well by now. We exchange a nod before he moves to the small hearth to brew her some tea. As a guard, he's not obligated to do this, but Yue's nice most days, and our princess besides. So we brew her tea.
The hearth's a clever construction of metal that doesn't immediately thaw the ice it comes into contact with. So long as a bender checks it over every once in a while, the tower stands safely. If the fire ever goes out, there is a strongbox sealed with wax to keep the steel and flint inside dry. Every person in the tribe knows how to make a fire, where to light one and where not to. It's one of the first things we learn as children.
I join Yue in viewing the landscape for a few moments. I used to think that this sight could never really feel like home. So different from the green forests and tall mountains I remember marking my homeland. But now this expanse of ice and snow and sky warms me from the inside. This place is now a picture of my very nature. On the outside, barren, but preserving life beneath the surface.
Water is my essence, and here there is nary a dry spot. Change is everywhere, as I have had to, to survive my ordeal of rebirth.
Kesuk joins us with the steaming tea, and all of us enjoy the companionable silence.
Before long, he and I leave Yue to her musings to play a game of Pai Sho. It's one of the games we benders can all conjure up. Probably Pakku's influence at work here. There used to be competitions about who could make the most flawless set in the least amount of time. Pakku won, every time he deigned to participate.
We don't hold them anymore. Most of those contests went out of fashion when I became a guard for Yue.
"The Avatar arrived today," he says, prompting me for what I know. Ah, guards, always gossiping. At this point, I probably know less than he thinks he does. There have been many rumours about the Avatar coming from traders a bit south. News like that spreads fast.
"Who do you think will be teaching him?" I ask, confirming the suspicion that he's here for waterbending training. Although that is pretty obvious. I add a nice engraving to my tiles.
"Pakku," Kesuk says, decisive, inspecting his work.
"Might. But he's already got two cute little students."
"I don't think numbers would bother that man." He looks at me then, clearly judging that I was a handful all by myself. I take pride in that it's widely considered a fact.
I shrug. "True. Don't think he'd let anyone else have a go?"
"Who're you thinking of?"
"Dunno. Arrluk, maybe."
"That old seaking? We'd have a warmonger for an Avatar. No, thank you," Kesuk grumbles as he considers the board.
What he forgets – wilfully or not – is that we're currently at war. That's the north's folly, I suppose. We're far enough removed to live comfortably, only the patrols really get a taste of what it's like for the rest of the world. And even those don't have frequent encounters with Fire Nation. We still mostly trade with Earthkingdom fishermen and merchants for our oils. The only other people who really seek us out are those who seek our healers.
"Could be entertaining," I suggest instead of voicing that thought.
"For you, maybe."
That's insulting. Well. It isn't like I haven't been calling him ignorant in my mind, so I suppose I can let it slide.
Instead of answering, I sigh. Ever since that incident with his older sister he gets prissy with me sometimes. People are sensitive about their siblings' virtues here.
"So, you've seen Pakku's new brood?" He asks, changing the subject. We've had this kind of silence too many times for it to weigh much anymore. Usually, these things die down. At this point, his hostility whenever the topic comes up is mostly out of habit.
"They're his most perfect little students. So obedient," I sigh again, with a bit of dramatic wilting of my posture.
Kesuk snorts. "Only you'd think that was a bad thing."
"Their existence must be so dull."
"We have you to counteract that, don't we?"
Sharing a grin, we place the last of our stones.
We manage to play two games before Yue comes to sit with us, and the conversation turns to the celebration tonight.
"Think your father will spurgle a bit to impress the Avatar?" I ask, as I put the kettle on. Yue looks a bit chilled. She's too prideful to ever admit any perceived weakness, but I know the signs well enough.
She thinks on her reply, before answering me in a steady tone of voice. "I couldn't say. He might for the feast, but I doubt he'll go beyond that. The Avatar already looked impressed, there won't be any more effort necessary."
Kesuk perks up at that, and at the same time shoots me a dirty look for not mentioning that little tidbit. "You've met the Avatar already?"
I gift him a smile intended to annoy.
"In passing," Yue replies, an amused curl to her lips. She's always found Kesuk's attitude towards me funny, even though hers used to be much the same, before I was put on her guard rotation.
"What's he like?"
"Young. And he really does have airbender tattoos." She sounds like she thought those were entirely fabrications of whomever passed the rumours along.
"How is that possible?" It is surprising, I suppose. All the air nomads, to our knowledge, were murdered.
...
Don't forget to throw some power stones :)
...
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