Chapitre 22: Island of Air Spirits
The wooden raft moored to the shore and Michael let out a breath that he didn't know he was holding. To be honest, this voyage was not long, but if he had to swim for a few more days, he risked being left without food. Fortunately, Sylphy helped him by directing the wind into the sails - Michael still couldn't use Airbending for whatever reason - and together with his Waterbending, they got to the island quickly enough.
The Island of Air Spirits looked… gloomy. To be honest, almost the entire Spirit World was not the happiest place, it was stuffed with dark and dangerous areas to the brim. Most of the Spirit World was no different from the Human World, sometimes you could forget that you ever left it. But when you meet a talking plant that wants to be… erm… far too friendly with you, such thoughts quickly disappear.
Stepping onto the rough sand, Michael sighed heavily, during his days on the raft he had forgotten how still the earth was. He definitely didn't want to go on another long voyage after that.
"Well, my caramel friend, let's go meet the Elder?" Sylphy flew in front of his face and waved towards the forest. "We don't have houses in the human sense, but this forest is as much a home for the Spirits of the air as a wooden cubes is for you people!"
She shot him a proud grin and crossed her arms over her chest, pleased with herself that she knew how people lived. But Michael focused on a different problem than the Spirit's ignorance of people's homes.
"Caramel?" He raised an eyebrow and looked at his hands.
To his little surprise, his skin became much darker after a week of hard work under the sun. He was tired every day, feeling sore in places where he didn't even know he could, but pushed forward. So by the end of his little trip, Michael was tanned and battered by the sea - and this is not taking into account other changes in his body.
'Whatever Jasmine does to my body, it gives a good result. I feel like I'm getting stronger every day. Is it the lack of a limit or just something else that has changed after my death? Questions, questions…'
Quickly throwing on a black T-shirt and a green tunic, Michael tied the raft to a tree on the shore and followed Sylphy.
"Well, now I look very tanned… You know, I can't even imagine what corner of the world I might be. I don't think I look like a person from the Elemental Nations."
The spirit tilted her head, considering his words, but in the end just shrugged.
"For me, all people look very similar, I can only distinguish between women and men. I think it's because I don't see your kind often. Not that I could do anything about it." She muttered discontentedly and flown spine-first into a tree.
To Michael's surprise, Sylphy didn't stop, but simply broke apart her body around the tree and flew around the trunk. It seemed to him that the Spirit girl didn't even notice what she did, because she just continued to fly into the center of the forest backwards.
Shaking his head to get rid of the crazy image, Michael continued walking, keeping an eye on his surroundings. He didn't know how much the world wanted to get rid of him right now, but he hoped that this hatred wasn't enough to make the Spirits hate him so much that they would attack the second they saw him.
'How did he say it? The world is screaming for me to get rid of you?'
He spent quite a long time thinking about why some Spirits wanted to rip out his heart and devour it in front of his eyes, some just looked after him, and some were friendly. Michael suspected that everything depended on the willpower of the Spirit, but he doubted it very much since Sylphy didn't look mighty in this department.
Entering a huge clearing, Sylphy finally stopped. Michael almost crashed into her body, but was able to stop in time too. There were no buildings in the clearing, or even fallen trees to sit on, and that was logical. Most of the Spirits didn't need to sit, much less the Air Spirits.
At this thought Michael stopped abruptly. Why do the Air Spirits live on a random island in the middle of the sea, and not in mountains or temples? Why do they even have a place like this if air is the element of freedom?
РMichael's hands tightened around the cold metal of his staff, but nothing else showed his nervosness. He looked the same as he did seconds before, when he didn't even think it could be a trap.
'Stupid, gullible bastard! Just because you weren't killed right away doesn't mean they won't try to do it later!' He mentally hit himself on the head.
"Oh my, what aggressive thoughts you have. Why did you choose the element of freedom if your thoughts are in such a tight cage?"
Every cell of Michael was screaming for him to send a few ice needles towards the new voice and run back to the raft, but instead he only tilted his head and turned to the speaker. In the corner of the clearing, there was not quite a person, but rather a hurricane of winds in the shape of an old woman's face with ever-changing features.
The spirit looked at the man with interest, as if he were one of the wonders of the world, but at the same time a piece of dirt underfoot. Michael didn't even know that someone could look like they were looking at gold and shit at the same time.
"Well, if my thoughts are too aggressive, maybe you shouldn't read them."
The old woman's face frowned and Michael grinned. As soon as he realized that this Spirit was reading his mind, he began to think about the most random things: increacing primary numbers, the exact skin colors of all the girls with whom he spent nights, injuries of people who fell into his hands, and much more horrible stuff.
"Not a caged mind then. Organized. It's good for a warrior and a thief, but such organization limits your freedom, creature."
Now it was Michael's turn to frown. Was it just the arrogance of the Spirit, or was he no longer considered human?
"Again, rude. Are you the Elder I needed to meet?" Michael added a memory of how he stuck his client's hand into a mechanical meat grinder and started slowly turning the handle.
The old woman's face didn't even twitch, but she nodded. The spirits cared little about the pain of humans, so even such a cruel picture didn't tick the Elder.
"Wow, I knew you were special, but I didn't even suspect that the Elder would want to read your thoughts! I don't even know whether to tremble with fear or excitement!" Sylphy shuddered.
"Yes, I've already heard from Sylphy what's interesting about you. Tell me, why were you able to get rid of Gotl's grip on your connection with water, but not with wind? I see your nature through the waves of hatred, you carve freedom, but lived in a golden cage. Is that the reason?"
Michael was silent. He knew that working for the Mafia tied him to his family even more than it was in ordinary families. The problem was that the Russian Mafia was much less honorable than its Italian counterpart - if you can even call it that. So with his relative freedom and monetary stability came the danger of a stab in the back and responsibilities that only a few are ready for.
His hands were already up to the elbows in blood, but at least he hadn't killed anyone… directly… Each time, someone else ended the life of his goals. So his conscience was as clear as possible for a torturer.
"I see… You can't even concentrate on the main problem, so I'll explain. When Gotl touched you, he blocked your Bending abilities. Most likely, he considered you too much of a danger."
Finally, Michael's brain caught up with this thought and realized that all this time he had not asked the right questions, leaving the problems to be solved by themselves.
'If I regained my Waterbending ability without even noticing it, then it can't be that hard… right? How did I even do that?'
"Ah, the creature is finally starting to think, I agree, Sylphy, it's so exciting!" Another voice sounded and Michael froze.
He knew this voice, he had heard it in his nightmares when he did not dream of his meeting with the nameless Goddess. The sound similar to the grinding of nails on metal did not even begin to describe how this voice sounded. Cold as the wind from the mountains and ruthless as a natural disaster. It was the voice of the Spirit that had reached him on Kyoshi Island.
Michael turned and looked at the source of the voice only to freeze as soon as he saw who the voice belonged to.
"What the fuck?"
L’AVIS DES CRÉATEURS 
Simple_Russian_Boi
Simple_Russian_Boi So there you have it, Mick met the one fucker who scared the shit out of him.
État de l’alimentation hebdomadaire
-- Classement
Power Stone 
-- Power
stone