Capítulo 2: Chapter 2: Guards pretending to be Teachers 1/4
Note: This chapter has been rewritten. Please inform me of any discrepancies that you might note in your reading experience, since I'm going through all of this effort to make the story into the best I believe it can be. Thanks and enjoy!
[The following story is from a heteronormative perspective. Sorry about that, I know how important representation is, it's just the way I created the character.]
Guard duty for the princess is always just a few hours of relaxation for me. She does her thing, ignoring me, mostly, and I get to people- or cloud watch. On particularly slow days, I practise a bit of surreptitious bending.
It's astonishing with how much I can get away, so long as there's someone to take the blame.
On this day, she's elected to visit the watchtower to the east. It's one of her favourite spots to go and be silent. It overlooks the ocean, the city itself, and the surrounding tundra. A view that can inspire awe, and fear. It reminds me of the strength of these people of ours, living here. The strength of those without bending to help them along. I imagine Yue feels similarly.
I can't remember her ever having set foot beyond that tower. Not, while I was her guard, in any case. It's safe to say that if she had gone, I would have gone with her.
I'm not sure if she's never asked, or if her father says it's too dangerous. I only ever leave the city once a month. Usually, if anyone does, it's for patrolling, or the odd trip to gather herbs for Yugoda. The latter tends to end up being me, because an experienced bender with a bit of knowledge in which herbs to bring back tends to be far more efficient than sending someone who has no clue, or for the old woman to go herself. She's not the youngest any more, but I have no idea if she's got anyone in line to be her successor.
If one doesn't know how to read the landscape, one could quite easily drown in an icy lake when the ice breaks. Some unfortunate souls have died that way, before it was made mandatory to always have a bender with you outside the city walls. Annoying for some, but safer overall. I don't mind a bit of danger, but if things go… north up there, I'd be very glad for a knowledgeable companion.
In the end it might have to be me who shows Yugoda's successor the ropes outside the city walls. I won't mind, if she turns out to be good company.
Pakku used to take me out into the wastes to learn to understand bending better. To see what it means to wield that power. What nature does with it, and what we do with it. How our best results are achieved in tandem. He showed me how waterbenders survived before banding together and erecting this city with its palace and its waterways. I was fascinated, and it was one of those rare occurrences where I could not keep my questions to myself and the most opportune times to get answers.
There were times when settlements bent themselves some shallow canals to keep up trade and exchange. Sometimes sealions would wander in there, and disturb the small canoes on their way down.
The princess and I take her small gondola along the city canals. They were made largely because of defensive structures and pathways for the ice of the city's buildings to melt into in the summer until a bender can renew the coating. Not many have the privilege making use of the canals. It would be chaos if everyone did, and really only supply transports have permanent permission to use the waterways. If everyone took their own private boat everywhere, no one would get anywhere. Secondly, you need a bender to take you where you want to go.
The Northern Watertribe holds a bit of disdain for those who use rudders inside the city. Or at all, really.
We may currently be governed by a non-bender, but most of the power lies with the benders. And so, their views – our views, I suppose – are the ones that guide the law and constitute the rules of society.
Yue's and my journey is marked by the odd wave from the sidewalk that I return, and her stoic indifference. There are more people around than usual.
As I propel the little gondola forward, I once again feel nostalgic as we pass the spot where I dumped her in the canal seven years ago.
"Stop laughing," she demands, never turning her head.
"Yes, princess." I don't bother denying it, even though I haven't made a sound. She, in turn, doesn't comment on my drawn-out tone, like she used to.
We've trained each other well over the years.
Moving around a bend in the canal, we spot the reason for the increase of people along the pavements on either side of the canal. A humongous white-furred animal with people on it is making its way along the canal, sending out ripples with each movement of limbs the size of two of me, hugging.
I've never seen a flying bison before, except for in paintings or a cartoon series a lifetime ago. Appa is large. If he weren't wading in water that must be freezing his huge toes off, he'd stand at twice my height.
The Avatar, sitting cross-legged on his head looks… young. A child with an arrow tattooed on his forehead, mouth stretched wide in a grin that spans his entire face. His eyes flit about, trying to take everything in at once.
Our gazes meet, for a moment, and I send him a wink as we pass. It visibly delights him, and I go about my task with a bit more cheer. Too much, if Yue's irritated huff is any indication. Well, she wouldn't be Yue if she didn't find me irritating, and it wouldn't be a day of guard-duty if my mood didn't change.
As we pass Appa's tail, needing three lengths of the boat to move past him and a bit of concentration to keep the small boat steady in the waves his large body sends out, I hear a girl's voice say: "This place is beautiful," and a boy's: "Yeah, she is," as he stares after an unmoving, stoic Yue.
I decide not to tease her too badly. She heard him as well and a bit of flattery can only be good for her. Not, that she's not getting compliments left and right. But by now they're mostly social courtesy, just like people tend to tell me about my own achievements.
"Want to turn around and greet the Avatar?" I drawl, even as we continue to move downstream.
"No," she decides, "I will only stand around looking pretty at the palace. I can do the same where I have chosen to go."
Okay, then. She always sounds a bit stuck-up, when she says something like that. After all, this is her personal chance to meet the Avatar, speak to him and make an impression.
But it's actually that she takes her freedom where she can.
As our princess, she has many rules and traditions to follow. It could be worse. It could also be better.
We leave the city behind, and enter the stretch of water between the wall and the buildings that serves as a second line of defence. A small burst of speed lifts the front of the boat slightly, and one of the princess' hands grips the edge lightly. I know it both annoys and excites her, whenever I do this.
Living her sheltered life, getting into a boat with me is the most danger she subjects herself to. I enjoy the short moment of fun with a smile.
It's these small things, in addition to her father's friendship with me that have her tolerate my placement on her guard rotation.
Must be hard, when your status as princess prevents the people you spend most of your time with from treating you like a person. She is to an extent, even in my eyes, the princess and not simply Yue. After all, I'm literally her guard. It's a bit hard to forget why we spend time in each other's vicinity when she'd much rather enjoy strangling me for the fun of it.
Arriving at the stretch of wall that we typically tie our boats to, because this is where it's been smoothed down to what could double as a mirror from frequent a- and descents, we exit the gondola and, as always, she ignores my helping hand. I fasten the boat next to the other one already there to a hook in the wall that some friendly bender left behind. Then I form the platform that will serve as our elevator with a gesture.
She steps onto it as closely to the wall as she dares. She's got a bit of a fear of heights, our dear Yue, and instead of doing the kind thing and forming a banister, I let her sweat. It's mostly teasing, but I do take a bit of joy in causing her discomfort. The pinched look of her face is always delightful.
Besides, she and I both know that if anyone can catch her falling down alongside this wall, it's me. Katsuo, one of Pakku's other students and I used to challenge each other to wall-surfing. I was the winner more often than not, which prompted him to improve, and challenge me over and over. Stubborn bugger, that one.
Yue used to be a frequent spectator, along with the rest of the city. It was a big event each time. We stopped when Katsuo became a master. Too undignified for him to challenge someone who was still a student. 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.
Yue elects not to answer. If she feels she could only speculate, she leaves the conversation to others.
"I imagine he either escaped the air temples before the siege – genocide," I grimace at the last word, and look out at the ice, "And somehow lived until now. Or a small group of airbenders evaded the Fire Nation entirely and survived for long enough that the cycle of rebirth went through all the elements until it arrived back at air… With the war going on for a hundred years, it's possible."
"But… wouldn't the tribe have known? There aren't really any other settlements where waterbenders live in numbers like ours," Yue says quietly, eyeing my crossed arms. I didn't realise I moved them.
"You never know," I say, "And with the raids on the South Pole over the last decades I wouldn't be surprised if the new Avatar was killed before he could save anyone."
We're all silent for a moment, then Kesuk shifts in his seat. "That'd be… then we should've-"
He cuts himself off with a glance at Yue. Chances are she'll be our leader in a few years. Criticising the decisions of her ancestors could end badly for him, if Yue was the type.
She catches the look, of course, and immediately loses all openness to her expression and posture. Before she can tell him something oddly clinical, as she is wont to do, when her position on a matter is precluded, I sigh loudly.
"We might not be here to discuss ifs and whens if the tribe had involved itself in the war. Now that the Avatar is here, we're able to teach him what he needs to know about waterbending. Chances are, we'll have no choice about our involvement in any case."
Yue's expression is unreadable, and Kesuk looks confused. "Why? I thought the Fire Nation would concentrate on the Earthkingdom first."
"That won't matter when the Comet returns," I say and add the tea leaves to the boiled water.
"The Comet?" Kesuk seems to not have listened to Pakku's explanation that I'm sure he was there for.
"You know, Sozin's Comet. The one that returns every hundred years," I prompt, and there is no recognition on either of their faces. "It's proximity grants firebenders unimaginable power – ah, that's not quite right, is it? They murdered every airbender they could find that day with that power. It's due to return in… a bit less than a year. That's why the Avatar needs to master all four elements and the Avatar State before then, so that we won't all die when the Comet arrives. It's why we're training more and more benders so young."
To Kesuk, this is clearly all news to him. His mouth is open, his eyes wide and his fists are clenched.
Yue has gone bone-white, which looks decidedly unhealthy on her skin-tone.
What do they teach kids these days? How to professionally ignore everything your teachers try to relay to you? Then again, their teacher for everything might not have been Pakku. And there is a certain amount of responsibility connected to this knowledge. And much of this I only know because I questioned the way our society is structured. Pakku and I argue a lot.
"Why don't I know this? No one told me!" Yue busts out, openly angry for the first time in a long while.
"What?" I can barely believe that. Arnook and I have spoken about this a few times. One of the reasons for my early promotion – alongside my capabilities – was to encourage young benders to try their hardest. To learn what they could for when we would hall have to go to war to fight for our continued existence. Classicistic as we may be, we don't deserve to be annihilated for it. In any case, the Fire Nation's policies and teachings are far worse than ours – even if it's no excuse.
"No one. Ever. Told me this! Not my teachers, not my father, not you-" She stands, agitated, pointing her finger at my chest.
"I, ah… I'm telling you now? I thought you knew. It's common knowledge among benders and council members," I say, and with a glance at Kesuk I add, "Usually. It's just that no one talks about it openly so the children will be spared their childhoods and the civilians don't go mad."
"You-" She turns away abruptly, breathing hard, trying to get herself under control. "I will have to speak to my father about this. Take me to the palace, now!"
I nod, and with a pat to Kesuk's shoulder, I lead Yue outside, and lower us down the wall faster than ever before with her as my passenger. She stumbles upon our halt, and I catch her wrist before she falls into the water. While I'm usually all for letting people embarrass themselves, even I can tell that this isn't the time.
I can feel the tremors in her arm and don't let her go until she's safely seated in the boat with a white-knuckled grip on the sides. Even as I speed us along the canals I am careful not to spray the pedestrians with ice cold water. All it takes is a bit of a flourish of my wrist at the end of my bending motion, and I do like flourishes. That's Pakku's influence. This time, our passage is marked by confused shouts that I ignore.
The palace is teeming with activity, full of people preparing the celebration. Arnook is in the Great Hall, directing workers and their tasks.
He greets us with a smile that fades into confusion the moment he comprehends Yue's mood. His eyes seek out mine for clarification, and I jerk my head to indicate that they should speak privately. He leads the way to his chambers.
I'm about to close the doors behind them, when Yue calls me inside. "Kaito, come."
I don't enjoy being part of this… discussion. This is a family matter, really, and it's not my place, nor do I want it to be. I'm both their friend, I suppose, and I have no desire to pick sides. So I won't.
"What's going on?" Arnook asks.
My view as I enter the room is Yue having crossed her arms, a stormy look on her face, and Arnook standing before her, apprehensive.
"Why haven't you told me about the Comet?" She bites out.
Arnook's shoulders drop. "I had… hoped that I wouldn't have to burden you with the knowledge."
"Burden! And what, leave me to be ignorant like a child, knowing less than my- my babysitter!"
Her father looks to me for help. "That's not-"
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