Whirlwind [Avatar Aang]

☁Chapter Three☁

Her legs were burning by the time she made it down the rest of the stairs to the street where her house was on. That was the only downside to her hideout, the long walk up and down the stairs. If only she could earthbend, then she would be able to get places much easier. But she wasn't blessed by the Spirits in that way; she was forced to do everything the hard way in her life.

The city was quiet around her as she walked into the marketplace that usually thrived on regular days around the corner from her home, and she heard chatter about the death of King Bumi coming from the people who were setting up their booths for the day. All of them here knew that this was not going to be a regular day, and it wouldn't be a regular day for a long time. Her heart squeezed painfully in her chest, so she hurried through the marketplace, trying to get home without being seen by these people. 

Nazadori hurried around the corner toward her home. It was the middle building between the two merchant houses -- one sold flowers while the other sold home-baked goods. Her house usually smelled like a wide range of things, and they were all good. Today, she could only smell the funeral flowers, the sad blue flowers wilting away, that Chang, the flower merchant, put out for King Bumi's funeral procession. That made her shove the front door open, taking quick steps inside while sucking in deep breaths through her mouth. 

"Where were you?" her mother asked her once she walked through the front door. Nazadori gasped in surprise when she saw her mother, Baleng, and Mava waiting for her, each of them with their arms crossed over their chests. They all wore matching frowns on their faces, and her cheeks burned in embarrassment. "What were you doing out and about this early in the morning?"

"I was taking a walk," she muttered, not telling the truth to any of them. If they knew where she was, they'd probably kill her because it was too dangerous for her to be up there without anyone else around. She didn't want to hear them lecturing her about that right now. "I couldn't sleep."

"So, you take a walk around the streets of Omashu?" Baleng asked her. He wore that confused expression that usually lived on his face permanently. Nazadori wished she could slap that look off his face. "That doesn't sound safe, Dori."

She squared her shoulders at that nickname and that tone. When would they realize that she was an adult and could make decisions for herself? It didn't seem like that was going to happen any time soon, though. Instead, she looked at her family, the ones that were supposed to love her. They had chosen her when she was young, but now it didn't seem like they were choosing who she was becoming. They wanted the old Nazadori, the one who shied away from danger and fights, the one who lived a complacent life in the city of Omashu. They wouldn't get that version of her ever again, not after the past few days of heartache, and especially not after the past few years of injustice. 

Nazadori opened her mouth to answer Baleng, but she couldn't figure out what she wanted to say. Something else was sitting on the tip of her tongue, wishing to be unleashed like a wild buzzard wasp. "You guys didn't come with me," Nazadori said softly. She stared at her family, the ones who had taken her in when she, as a baby, needed someone most. But they weren't there when she needed them, not for the funeral procession around the city of Omashu, not for the pain traveling through her chest. "Why?"

"We were running late," Mava said with a shrug like she didn't care about not showing up. She twirled a few pieces of rock around her fingertips, not even focusing her gaze on Nazadori. Her guard's uniform wrapped around her body, probably since she just got off her night shift of protecting the mail systems from thieves and robbers. Her days of fighting Nazadori's classmates for her when she was little had paid off well because she could take down even the most dangerous criminals that tried to hijack the mail system. "Baleng still had to do his hair. You know how he is."

"You can't rush perfection," Baleng stated, running a hand through his shoulder-length dark hair. As of right now, he was a stay-at-home son who would watch over their house while everyone else went to work. At least, that was what her mother would say. Nazadori would say that he was just lazy. "It takes a long time for me to look this good."

Her mother took a step forward, closer to Nazadori than she wanted at that moment. Her anger felt like a barricade between the two of them, preventing her mother from getting any closer than she already was. "We weren't sure if we could join you in the procession, Dori," her mother said gently. "I was afraid the guards were going to arrest us."

Nazadori wanted to shout at them that Mava was a guard and would be able to get them out of jail or prison or whatever. She wanted to shout at them that she was going to be the next queen of Omashu and would have cleared it with any of the guards there. She wanted to shout at them, to scream at them, but nothing came out of her mouth. She had lost her voice with them.

She turned on her heel and hurried to the door as her family all started asking her where she was going. "I have a meeting," was all she could muster. It sounded weak and shaky; her voice choked full of the unshed tears of the past few days.

Nazadori flew out of the door and into the bustling streets of Omashu. She hadn't told a lie to her family, no. She did have a meeting with all the old advisors from Bumi's reign to talk about the council that they wanted her to create as queen. But that wasn't for another couple of hours, later on in the afternoon. She just had to get away from her family before she blew up into a million pieces. 

Without paying attention, she allowed her feet to take her out the front door to her house and down the small alleyway behind the houses on this street. Looking over her shoulder, she sighed in relief when she didn't see her siblings or mother following her. She needed to be alone to process their lack of interest in her daily life. Once she was far enough away from the house, she slid down the wall that rose up, creating a higher level of the city.

Sitting back against the wall, Nazadori let out a soft sigh, brushing a hand across her creased face. Bright sunlight surrounded her as she took a few deep breaths, trying to calm her overflowing emotions. Warmth wrapped itself around her tired body, bringing more anger to her veins. She wanted to yell at her family for not showing up to something that was so important to her, but she didn't need to go volcanic on her family for not coming to the funeral procession for King Bumi. 

Or did she? It was obviously something very important to her, and she specifically invited them to come, so why didn't they show up? If there was anything Mava or Baleng had going on, their mother would find a way to be there, but it seemed like Nazadori was forgotten. It wasn't fair. She was the forgotten, the lost. Her birth mother didn't want her, and now her adoptive family was forgetting about her. When would the cycle end? 

Nazadori didn't think it would, not until she disappeared for good.