Violent Delights, ATLA

chapter twenty, past, present, future

20
PAST, PRESENT, FUTURE

PAST WAS AN ELDERLY MAN who knew history as an old friend, the mistakes of humanity recorded and plastered on his crumbling cheeks. Often he would spill stories like tea pouring from kettle, weaving tales as old as time to all. Most would catch him gazing at particularly nothing, nostalgia swirled in his eyes with a gleam of wisdom, as everything from the now circulated into the before.

Present was a cunning, sly woman who had a hundred eyes and always put Past at checkmate. Wrapped in silk drapes as transparent as the moon's reflection, blushing from behind a golden-lined fan in the light, the corners of her ruby red lips always curving upwards into a dangerous smile.

Future was a little girl who knew everything and nothing all at once. Head empty, heart golden and full, smile pure. Nothing mattered so everything mattered. Often she'd balter ahead of Past and Present and was home to an extraordinary mind who knew the endless journey of time and thereafter.

The swamp Aang found himself in was a gathering of all three. Vines hugged the land and would occasionally reach out for his legs, frightening him. Sunlight scarcely filtered through the leaves from above but he swore they would move to hide him from the sun's watchful gaze. He had to regroup with his friends as soon as possible. Despite the mud sticking to his toes and the dirtiness of the swamp, something about it was majestic. It was what called him to it in the first place but he couldn't place his finger on why or what made it so enchanting in its own way?

Sweet laughter like bells rung through the swamp, catching his attention.

Aang leaped from one moss-covered branch to another in an attempt to find the source. A girl no older than him dressed in royal white robes boldly stating she was of high status, someone who didn't look like fit in the swamp. The laugh belonged to her.

"Hey, wait up!"

Aang's voice only triggered her to turn around and run off, the girl vanishing within the emergents and lianas. By the time he stood in the exact same spot she did, everything fell quiet and she was nowhere to be seen. He scratched his head.

Mirthful laughter echoed again but this one was different from the previous one, this one had an edge of sunlight to it and was dipped in apricus tones.

Whipping his head around again, Aang found himself staring at a familiar face in the distance. It was San. Except she wasn't wearing the armour she usually wore whenever he saw her by Zuko's side and her eyes were brown instead of gold. She donned a beautiful deep red saree and her sun mark was tinted with a faint glow, a gorgeous smile adorning her lips.

"San! Is that you?" He asked curiously. She threw her head back and giggled sweetly before dashing off again just like the previous stranger.

At the end of the day, he couldn't find either the stranger nor San and discovered they were only illusions brought forth by the heart of the swamp itself. The protector of the swamp approached the banyan-grove tree in the centre, the largest tree in the swamp, and answered Katara's question about why they saw the visions they did.

"In the swamp, we see visions of people we've lost, people we loved, folks we think are gone. But the swamp tells us they're not. We're still connected to them. Time is an illusion and so is death."

Aang heard Katara saw her mother while Sokka saw Yue. Both were people of their pasts but—

"What about my visions?"

"Visions? Plural?" The protector of the swamp asked, intrigued.

"Yeah. The first person I saw was a girl who I've never met before."