Art drawn by me!
The sun had barely risen above the horizon, the night sky slowly transforming into the rays of dawn. Ayaan was up at this time, his sleep minimal at best. But he was used to the lack of sleep, and his vitality made it much more bearable than it would be for anyone else.
He looked over the campsite they'd made. They were by a small river near a forest. The camp fire was smoking, having gone out a bit ago. Sokka and Katara were in their sleeping bags, and Aang was laying on Appa's side, all of them peacefully dreaming. Ayaan was envious of them, being able to sleep like that. He never wanted to have dreams when he slept. The reasoning was simple.
They would always become nightmares. It was only worse because he could not say that they weren't real. Everything he saw in his dreams had happened to him. He recalled it all vividly, the joy that started the day to the pain that ended it. The moment the fire scorched across his skin... it replayed for him whenever he dreamed. It was why when he closed his eyes he hoped to see nothing at all.
His hand went to the scar visible on his face. Even though he touched it, he could feel nothing. The skin was abnormally smooth, and he took care of it as best he could with a special lotion his tribe had made for him. He'd learned to make it himself in case he ever ran out. That just left him to think.
A lot of things had changed since that day, especially for him.
The freezing cold of the South Pole, one that had never bothered him before, became unbearable afterwards. His burned skin would ache with sensitivity constantly, to the point he had to wrap it tightly, even beneath his already thick overcoat.
He remembered when he finally began training again, and because he could not sweat like he used to, he overheated and collapsed. He was sick for days. They literally had to carve out a pit in the ice and put him in it to cool down his fever. The fact that he had to be cooled down even though he was surrounded by glaciers was one of the first major changes he had to endure.
When he finally did get over his sickness, his burns were that much more sensitive to the cold from the treatment. He had to wrap it in layers of warmth and apply the lotion regularly back then. It was infuriating and difficult.
Over time, his body steadily got used to being cold again. He had to relearn how to navigate his body during training, had to learn new routines to take care of his forever disfigured form. It took everything in him not to get frustrated with his limitations and breakdown in front of his family, who did everything they could to be supportive.
Their grandmother had seen this. She sat him down and, being the stubborn woman she is, made him spill. Leave it to his grandmother to break down all of his walls to give him the comfort he needed.
He told her everything. Once the words began to fall out of his mouth he couldn't stop them. All of his doubts, his wavering sense of self, his hate of that man, his grief, how he felt like all they saw was his burn scar when they looked at him, and that looking at him would make them think of her... How he felt responsible for it all, everything.
It was the first time he had cried in front of anyone since the raid.
Just as before, it was silent. He did not hiccup or wail. It was a cry that even though it was silent, you could feel the sadness. He'd been trying to hold it in alone for years but his grandmother being his grandmother was all it took for the dam to break.
He felt pathetic, and he told her that too. He felt as if he did not deserve the tears he was shedding, but that as much as he wanted to be fine, he wasn't. And it was slowly killing him, everyday, little by little.
Gran-Gran held on to him tightly. She told him that it was okay to cry, that it was okay to not be okay. She told him that is what his family was there for, and that they would never, ever, want him to feel he did not deserve to feel. She said that time would heal, and what it didn't heal, family would.
After that, he came to her more often, and it became a habit to talk to her whenever he felt he needed to. Just thinking about his grandmother made him happier. And he was able to get better, until his body could do most of the things he could do before once again.
The power of a Gran-Gran. One must never underestimate it.
He quietly got up and went to the river. His face appeared in the reflection on the water, his fingers tracing the scar once again. His hands traveled to the edge of his coat, lifting them up. He'd removed his coat and shirt, revealing his upper body to the world. The scar was indeed large, from his cheek, down his neck, to his chest and back, and even wrapping around his arm. The dark red clashing with his paler brown skin.
He was used to it being there now.
With his shirt and coat gone one could see that he wore a necklace around his neck just like Katara and Sokka did, but it was different from theirs. A thick brown thread clipped around his neck loosely, on it were four navy blue beads, similar to his earrings and the beads in his hair. They were separated by three sharp fangs, each from a beast he had hunted.
The only thing that made them special was that he'd hunted those beast with his father, and his mother decided to make it a memory by making the necklace with the beads she'd sometimes use to decorate her own hair. This necklace was a good memory, thus just like Katara, he kept it around his neck. It wasn't as symbolic as their mother's necklace was, but it was something, and that was all that he needed.
Ayaan decided he'd reminisced enough, and began experimenting with his waterbending. He thought back on the two other types of bending he had been exposed to: Air and Fire.
When Aang bent his element, his hands almost never formed fist. The air was able to be guided through the subtle shifts in his fingers. His style of fighting seemed to be more defensive and evasive rather than for attacking.
When he fought with Zuko, the difference in style was clear. Zuko's hands were constantly in a fist as if to punch his target, and his stance was that of an attacker, not for defense or evasiveness. He seemed to rely on his strength to produce his flames, through he was also capable of fluid movement in which his flames followed.
Ayaan knew that waterbending could not be like either of these. He could not create water from his body and he could not control any water that may be in the air. He was not that skilled. But their contrast gave him clues. If a fist was too fierce, and free, open palms too loose, then he must go somewhere in-between. If fast movements did not work and strong movements were too much, he must be steady.
He stood at the edge of the river, his hands not too loose or firm and his arms relaxed. Slowly, he raised his arm. A small bubble of water rose in response, he gently, smoothly, swept his arm down. The water, still floating before him, scattered and spread in that direction. It glistened in the now risen dawn, the yellows and oranges reflecting in the droplets. His arm went around again, gathering the water until it was once again in its bubble, and with the same movement he used to bring it up, he brought it back down.
Smoothly, slowly, without a single splash in the water.
Was he doing something right? He felt he was on to something. Something in his heart and his mind linked, and his body moved on its own.
A stance he was familiar with. He relaxed his entire body and began to move. Unlike his father, who wielded many different weapons unique to their tribe, the one Ayaan connected with the most was the spear. He remembered when he first saw it, when he picked it up. It felt right, and his movements were natural.
He remembered his father being shocked at the fact he could fight with a spear without any training whatsoever, as if Ayaan had been born with a spear in his hand. Ayaan didn't think to question why he could do certain things without prior knowledge, he did them, just like now.
He got up from the bank to do what he had just done again, only with his entire body instead of just his arm. Stepping into the nice, cool waters, he took the stance he often did when he was holding his spear. This strange sense of clarity came over him, like he had done something like this a thousand times before.
He swept his arm upwards smoothly, his fingers together but not tightly. The water followed. He turned his body, the same way he did when he snapped his spear to one side, but his body became his weapon. The water followed. He swept down, up, he turned and he relaxed, his feet moved beneath the water following his wants, and the water moved to his will.
It was like a dance, push and pull in sync with each other. He let his mind blank, all of his useless thoughts flowing down the river. Ayaan closed his eyes, falling into a rhythm he'd long since engraved in his body by practicing his spear.
It was the move that Sokka loved so much. He did not get faster, nor did he want to, it was a steady, constant flow. He let the river move around him, the pushes and the pulls of the many different currents. Even his breathing synced with his movements.
...
..
.
It had been a week since they'd left the south pole. Katara woke up as the sun had just risen in the sky. Aang was up so, excited to be heading home. He went to check the knots connecting the reigns to Appa's horns, and she went to check their supplies to make sure they had everything ready to do. It was then that the two noticed that Ayaan wasn't at the camp.
"Where'd he go?" Aang asked.
"Probably training again." She answered, getting up. "Want to go find him?"
"Yeah!" Aang answered, using his airbending to land on the ground while Katara got down from Appa the natural way. "Where do you think he'll be?"
"Ayaan wouldn't have gone too far." She said, pulling Aang along. He felt ecstatic holding her hand, but said nothing. He didn't really need to, as the smile on his face was speaking volumes.
They walked along the path of the river, and it wasn't long before they heard the sounds of splashing. Katara's eye lit up. Ayaan was practicing his waterbending! This was her opportunity to finally see it, since he always trained on his own until now. "He must be over there! Come on."
"Woah!" Katara pulled Aang along with even more gusto, eager to see her brother's waterbending. Katara may not have known it, but doing all of those chores around the village made her pretty strong herself.
Aang didn't think he could like her more but here he was finding even more to like about her. Yep, he was definitely falling. Did he realize it yet? No. Did he mind it? Also no. He let himself get pulled along by the strong girl, both of them noticing the sound getting louder.
Katara stopped abruptly, causing a love-struck Aang to crash into her a bit. Her eyes were wide in shock and awe, and being the curious bean that he was, Aang searched for what she was looking at. His eyes also widened.
Small streams of water were flowing around Ayaan where he had moved. It was like a record of all of the movements he had made, flowing endlessly. His eyes were closed, he was in a trance-like state. All of his movements were instinctual, as if they were engraved in his body and mind.
It was her first time really seeing her brother bend their element. He looked so... peaceful. It was as if the only thing in the world was himself and the water. If she was to describe it, it was like the water catered to Ayaan.
Ayaan seemed... beloved by the water.
"Woah..." Aang said.
"Amazing..." Katara agreed.
"Hm?" He looked up, shocked by their presence. As soon as his concentration broke, so did the spectacle he'd unknowingly created. The water splashed into the water unceremoniously, and it was then that he noticed that it had indeed been floating just before.
"How did you do that?" Katara asked, going up to her brother with sparkling eyes.
"Hm..." He didn't say anything. He simply took her by the hand and led her into the water. Gently, he positioned her fingers how he'd had his, and demonstrated the movement for her.
"Like this?" She asked, mimicking him while looking at the water. To her surprise, the water began to rise to her will. But it was wobbly, just as her stance was before collapsing back into the water. She had been too fast, her movements too choppy from inexperience. He got behind her, fixing her stance to one similar to his when he held his spear.
"Try again. Slowly." He guided her hands, her movements. Just as before, the water moved, but this time it was much more steady. "Steadily move." He said, guiding her again. The small stream of water moved as she wanted for the very first time, and he let her do her own thing until she finally let the water sink into the river. It was not as smooth as Ayaan's but it was a start and that was enough for her.
"Did you see that?" Katara asked, her eye twinkling in delight as she'd just, almost, learned waterbending from her brother. Any other time, it ended in utter failure, her being too frustrated to continue, but this time... this time was different. He showed her differently, and she was able to learn it better. To actually understand what he was showing her, instead of him telling her what he did and trying to demonstrate it.
When he'd done it that way, it would leave her confused. Because Ayaan always felt his way through bending and learned through instinct and weaponry training, Katara, who had neither, was left in the dark. But this time was different, he didn't use any words, or even tried to, he just showed it; a guided showing of a skill.
This was something she could follow. If she practiced enough, maybe she could get to his level. She'd finally taken a step forward.
"Yes. I saw." He answered with a nod.
"I thought you said he couldn't teach well, Katara?" Aang said, confused.
Clearly, Ayaan could teach great. He'd even figured something out from that demonstration, and not counting the incident on the ship or the thing with his century on ice, he'd never bent the element before. Ayaan had made it so simple to follow, it was a wonderful change of pace.
"Uh. Well." Katara was embarrassed by Aang's honesty about her previous statement. "I mean, um, Ayaan—"
"Yes. I was not good with teaching. That is true." Ayaan said bluntly. Katara sighed and shook her head. Ayaan was way more honest about things like this than anyone. "Words are difficult for me. Action is better."
"What made you come up with this method instead?" Katara asked, curious and delighted that she could actually learn a bit through her brother.
"The invasion." He said simply. "Sokka told me this was better, so now I do this instead."
Katara would have to thank Sokka later, and she was not looking forward to his smugness afterwards. As much as she would love to stay in the water and practice that move more, it was time for them to move on from this place. "Come on, let's go wake Sokka and we'll be on our way."
Ayaan agreed, getting to the shore and getting his clothes. He'd been facing the opposite side, away from Aang, so the boy did not see his scar. But now that he was coming towards him the young airbender could see it clearly. The massive burn that stretched from his cheek, down his neck, to his chest and back, and wrapped around his arm. Aang had seen Zuko's scar, but this one was an entirely different ball game.
"...Does it hurt...?" He asked, both reluctant and worried. Katara looked toward Aang, realization on her face. This was his first time really seeing Ayaan's burn scar. Ayaan finished putting on his shirt, wrapping his arm and upper body with the bandages he kept. He shook his head in reply, and Aang let out a sigh in relief..
Ayaan paused for a moment before deciding on something. He went to Aang and took his hand. Aang was surprised by this, but he was even more surprised when he brought his hand up to his face, letting his fingers graze across the burn scar. Aang didn't expect it to be so smooth.
"It does not hurt. I can not feel it." Ayaan explained. Letting Aang's hand go down. Aang had a sad expression on his face when he said that. At least 25% of Ayaan's body was covered in that burn, which mean that on at least 25% of his body, he had lost the feeling of superficial touch. Ayaan could tell that it made him sad, as his family made that same expression when they found out all of the damage his scar left him with.
"It is okay, Aang. I am okay." Ayaan smiled, pushing him along to get back to Appa and Sokka. "Let's go wake Sokka. You are showing us your home today."
"Yeah!" Aang was back to his happy self, and started to gush to Ayaan about all of the places he wanted to show him once they reached their destination. Ayaan quietly listened, Aang having long since gotten used to Ayaan's silent demeanor.
Katara lagged a bit behind, in her thoughts.
Ayaan had often done that with the children in their village. Letting them touch the scar, at least once. They would become curious of his scar and would get sad like Aang did, asking the same type of question. And he always let them touch it, to let them know that he was okay. They'd often go on about how smooth the skin there was, and call it cool. Their sad expressions would fly away.
Ayaan wanted nothing more than for them to have peace of mind knowing that he was fine. If there was one thing he hated seeing, it was the other's sad faces when they saw his scar. The ones who were there on the day he got it, he hated seeing them so sad. So, he started doing that more often, to ease their worries, if only a small bit.
Ayaan had always been honest. If he did not say it in words, he said so in action. And if he said he was fine, then the village knew that he was.
It was why during his years of hardship, he did not say it. It was because he knew he'd be lying to both himself and the people he cared for, and that wasn't something he'd let himself do just to avoid pain. He was one for blunt, unfiltered honesty. For both the people around him and himself.