Tanza 6 years old, 14 BG
Standing at the temple gates, Tanza looked back to see the city from this vantage point. The neighborhoods looked like spokes on a wheel, all pointing directly to the roaring fire statue in the middle of the town. Since the city was built within the caldera of a volcano, the ground beneath held enough pockets of highly flammable natural gas and hot vapor for the locals to artistically create a statue of a dragon breathing nonstop fire.
But that also caused a major problem for the town. The entire area acted like a giant, natural steam room, causing the wooden buildings below to warp from the constant moisture.
The walk up the volcanic ridge though had been entirely silent. The heavy, humid air hung thick over the three travelers, broken only by the steady scraping of their boots against the steep stone steps. Up ahead, Master Kelsang walked with her shoulders relaxed, while she stared forward. The cold, silent animosity from the naval guards at the harbor still lingered in the air.
As the silence grew too heavy to ignore, Avatar Roku slowed his pace, matching his stride to the airbender master. His expression was shadowed with a deep, quiet sadness.
"Master Kelsang, for all it's worth-" Roku began, his voice soft but carrying a heavy weight. He stopped on a wide stone landing and turned to face them fully. "-I want to apologize. For the harbor master, for the guards... for the way you were treated down there."
Kelsang stopped, her expression respectful, she showed an understanding look and nodded.
Roku let out a long, weary sigh, looking down at the smoking factories of North Chung-Ling. "The scars of the past run deep in the Fire Nation, and old grievances are not easily forgotten. But there is no excuse for turning away travelers in need, let alone monks of the Air Nomads. It pains me to see my people greet guests with suspicion instead of warmth. Please know that their hostility does not reflect the spirit of this nation."
Tanza kept her hands folded and crossed over her chest, while keeping a curious look on her childish face. But behind her 'innocent eyes', her mind was picking his words apart.
'Obviously, an Avatar from the Fire Nation is more than willing to apologize for his own people, but it's nothing he can wholly control', Tanza remarked. 'He has enough sway to make them kneel for now, but he's nearing his deathbed. He must be in his seventies or eighties. His demise is inevitable, and once he is gone, the Fire Nation will attack the nearest shore. But for what? I can only guess…'
There was only so much he can do, as per his station as the Avatar.
She looked back down toward the harbor. 'With this massive trading hub though, the constant movement of supplies to the mainland, the industrial steamboats, and who knows what else they are hiding inside their military complex, the Fire Lord is obviously just waiting for the Avatar to keel over.'
The best she could rationalize the Fire Nation's military buildup was a simple desire to conquer for more land and resources. That was, after all, the basis of all war.
Turning forward as her master thanked Roku and insisted she and Tanza were grateful for his words and help, Tanza turned her sharp eyes toward the grand entrance of the temple. The structure was a towering, five-tiered pagoda built out of dark volcanic stone that gleamed like polished coal against the mountain mist. Deep red paint coated the sweeping curves of the roofs, and heavy brass accents caught the flickering light of the volcano below.
Just then, the heavy wooden doors groaned open. A group of local Fire Sages stepped out onto the stone courtyard to greet them. As they walked toward Roku, Tanza watched as they moved towards him. The lead sage stepped forward and bowed deeply, his hands pressed together in a formal flame salute.
"Welcome, Avatar Roku," the lead sage announced, his voice smooth but echoing loudly against the courtyard walls. "The mountain spirit honors us with your presence. And we welcome your Airbender Monk Guests to our sanctuary."
Tanza kept her arms crossed inside her sleeves, her eyes sweeping over the monks' faces. While their words were perfectly polite, a stark contrast to the angry naval guards at the docks, she noted no hidden tension in their jaws or stiffness in their shoulders. There was nothing to suggest that these monks harbored any ill will toward airbenders.
Master Kelsang, meanwhile, stepped forward, her posture relaxed yet carrying the natural, grounded weight of a deeply experienced wanderer. Her features softened with a serene, knowing smile that made the heavy tension of the island melt away.
"The honor is entirely ours, Wise One." Kelsang replied, her voice smooth and steady, she offered a gentle, deliberate bow of her head. "We are grateful for your sanctuary, and for the kindness of your hearth."
Standing a step behind her, Tanza mirrored the gesture, lowering her head at the exact same depth to keep up her image as a perfectly dutiful apprentice.
The lead sage smiled warmly, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he lowered his hands from the flame salute. "I am High Sage Noju," he introduced himself, gesturing toward the open, dark-timbered archway of the temple. "Please, come inside out of the mountain humidity. We have just begun preparing the midday meal, and it would bring great joy to our order if you and the Avatar would honor us by joining our table."
As High Sage Noju led them through the heavy timbered archway, the hot, heavy humidity of the volcanic mountain ridge instantly gave way to the cool, quiet shadows of the temple interior.
From deep within the stone hallways, a low, rhythmic hum echoed off the dark walls. It was a choir of sages, their voices perfectly synchronized in a deep, rolling voice as they performed their midday meditations.
"Na mo a mi tuo fo... na mo a mi tuo fo..."
The ancient, repetitive words floated through the air like a blanket of incense. To Master Kelsang, the chant was a comforting sign of spiritual devotion, a familiar call to mindfulness and the infinite light of the cosmos that she warmly recognized from her own travels.
Walking quietly behind her master, Tanza let the rhythm of the words sink into her ears. Her mind recognized it as a foreign chant, but it was one she did not fully understand without learning and translating the specific words. If anything, the way the words repeated made it sound remarkably like a monk chant derived from Buddhism.
Soon enough, High Sage Noju led them into a spacious dining hall where low, dark wooden tables were arranged across a polished stone floor. Woven red floor cushions sat at each placement. True to the mountain's natural design, narrow floor grates allowed the deep, warm glow of the volcano to faintly illuminate the room from below, keeping the stone tiles comfortably warm.
As they took their seats, a pair of younger acolytes quietly entered, carrying heavy clay platters of the freshly prepared midday meal.
Because farming was nearly impossible on the steep, ash-covered slopes of North Chung-Ling, the food reflected the harsh volcanic environment. The platters held steaming bowls of fiery-spiced fire lilies, roasted mountain tubers, and thick slices of heavily salted, cured meat, a staple preserved to survive the sulfurous air.
Tanza sat on her cushion, her eyes immediately saw the meat on the platter. She knew the strict pacifist laws of the Air Temples. She looked up slightly, her gaze shifting to her master to see how the older woman would handle the situation. "Master?" She questioned, the word itself was waiting for what to do from here.
Master Kelsang looked down at Tanza, her expression warm and completely devoid of judgment. She reached out, placing a gentle, reassuring hand on the young girl's shoulder.
"In the safety of the temples, Tanza, our gardens are full, and we are blessed to live without taking life." Kelsang explained softly, her voice slow and vocal so only Tanza and Roku could hear. "But a true nomad is a guest of the world. When a host shares their hearth, they share their own survival. To reject their food is to reject their kindness, and our culture values compassion above rigid rules. We take what we are given with a grateful heart."
Kelsang picked up a small piece of the cured food, offering a respectful nod to High Sage Noju before eating. "Eat, my student. Keep your strength. The air is wider than the walls of our home."
Tanza stared at her bowl for a brief second before nodding obediently. "Yes, Master." she murmured, picking up her utensils to copy her teacher.
But beneath her exterior, Tanza's mind was practically buzzing with a different kind of satisfaction. 'Obviously, the airbending monk life is less strict than I thought on vegetarianism!' Tanza realized, chewing the highly seasoned food without a single look of disgust. 'It also reflects well on accepting the gifts of others and not denying food when it is offered, meat or no meat, all sustenance is a gift to the body!'
As Tanza took her first bite, the flavor hit her senses like a small explosion. Fire Nation cuisine was notorious for its heat, and this dish was no exception. The rich, salty flavor of the cured meat was immediately followed by a sharp, stinging rush of red chili spices that made her tongue tingle and her throat feel incredibly warm. It was completely different from the mild, sweet vegetarian stews of her home temple. Yet, true to her disciplined nature, Tanza didn't gasp or reach frantically for water; she merely swallowed, kept her face perfectly still, and let her body adjust to the intense, fiery energy of the meal.
It was a culinary delight to enjoy food from other nations…
Meanwhile, across the low table, High Sage Noju finished a small bite of his food and set his utensils down with practiced grace. He looked toward the female airbender master, his eyes filled with gentle curiosity.
"If I may ask, Master Kelsang," Noju began, his voice soft and respectful against the quiet background hum of the temple. "What brings a master and her young apprentice so far across the ocean to our volcanic shores?"
Kelsang took a moment to swallow her food, her expression turning slightly wistful as she looked down at her bowl. A heavy, quiet lament settled into her tone.
"While I knew the relationship between the Fire Nation and the Air Nomads has remained tenuous over the last few decades, I was deeply hoping the tension had thawed just a little," Kelsang admitted openly, her voice carrying a calm, honest tone.
She offered Noju a small, genuine smile. "We needed a midway point to rest our wings. I am taking Tanza on a journey to the Southern Air Temple next. I want to show my young apprentice how beautifully different life can be at a different temple, so she understands the full breadth of our nomadic world."
It was then that Avatar Roku took a final, slow bite of his meal, chewing thoughtfully before setting his utensils down on the polished wood. A deep look of nostalgia washed over his weathered features, softening the sharp lines of his face.
"Ah, the Southern Air Temple," Roku remarked, his voice dropping into a wistful, melodic tone. "It has been many decades since I last felt the cool winds rushing through those mountain spires. I spent years there mastering my airbending, and my time among your people remains some of the fondest memories of my life."
He smiled gently, his eyes staring off into space as if looking at a ghost from his past. "I often wonder how my old friend, Gyatso, is doing these days. We used to spend hours on the glider courts, or scheming up ways to play tricks on the senior monks. The air up there always felt so light, so utterly free of the heavy burdens of the world below."
But as the memory faded, Roku's shoulders slumping slightly. The warm nostalgia evaporated, replaced by a sudden, heavy shadow of regret that darkened his face. He looked down at his hands, his knuckles tightening slightly against his robes.
"Which is why it breaks my heart to see how things have fractured," Roku lamented, his voice cracking slightly with an old, carrying pain. "When the 'Guiding Wind' faction caused that incident forty years ago... I was already the Avatar. I should have seen the growing political resentment. I wish I could have done something better to curb it before the damage became permanent. Perhaps then, the harbor master down there wouldn't look at a child of the wind with such deep-seated bitterness."
With her best attempt, Tanza did her best to look curious that befitted her age, cause now she needed to learn more about this old group that caused this sort of resentment towards Airbenders. "Um, Master?" Tanza looked beside her to Kelsang, doing her best to widen her eyes to show her curiosity. "You taught me a little about this group, but not much else... what really happened back then?" She asked earnestly.
She needed to know the bigger context of this geopolitical issue she learned from her master.
The question hung in the air, instantly shifting the atmosphere in the dining hall. The steady, rhythmic chanting echoing from the deeper halls suddenly felt much more profound, filling the gap of silence.
The adults, on the other hand, exchanged quiet, hesitant glances. They looked completely unsure of how to best explain the situation to a six-year-old. Bright and observant as Tanza clearly was, the 'Guiding Wind' incident was not a simple fairy tale. It was a dark, heavy topic born from a massive political disaster that had permanently scarred international relations.
High Sage Noju shifted slightly on his cushion, carefully looking at his bowl, preferring to let the Avatar and the Air Nomad master handle the delicate history. Roku sighed, a deep furrow appearing between his brows, while Master Kelsang calmly adjusted her posture, her expression thoughtful as she measured the right words for an apprentice so young.
Avatar Roku broke the tense silence, offering Tanza a soft, grandfatherly thin smile that crinkled the edges of his wise old eyes. He leaned forward slightly, resting his hands flat on the wooden table, his tone dropping into the warm, patient tone of a master storyteller.
"It is a heavy story for a young mind, little one," Roku began gently, his voice carrying a soothing weight. "But since it affects the way people look at you today, you have a right to understand. You see, the Guiding Wind did not start with bad intentions. At first, they were people from all nations, including many airbenders, who simply wanted to help the poor and make the world a fairer place for everyone. They believed that no one should be trapped by poverty or royal laws, and that is a very noble thought."
He looked out the window toward the smoking harbor below, his expression turning solemn. "But something odd changed when the movement grew popular here in the Fire Nation," Roku murmured, his brow furrowing as he recalled the troubling shift. "Suddenly, reports began to spread of the Guiding Wind committing violent acts against our people, completely defying their own pacifist vows. Overnight, their noble dreams were twisted into tales of dangerous secrets and chaos against the government. The airbenders insisted they were being framed, but the fear had already taken root. It frightened my people, and they felt their safety was being threatened by outsiders."
Roku turned his gaze back to Tanza, his eyes full of gentle, protective warmth. "When people get scared, their hearts often turn to anger. The harbor guards you saw today are still holding onto that old fear from forty years ago, passing it down to their children. They see your arrows, and they remember the chaos of that time, rather than the peaceful monks we know you to be. It is a sad thing when a good dream gets muddy, because the shadows left behind darken the light for everyone else."
For Tanza, Roku's words lingered in her mind. 'Something odd changed?' She analyzed, her eyes dropping to her plate. 'A strictly pacifist group suddenly turning violent in the one nation ruled by an ambitious Fire Lord? It's a classic political setup. The Fire Lord likely staged those attacks using his own men to make the public hate the Air Nomads to get rid of the political group. Roku suspects the truth, but he's too weak to act against his own nation's throne.'
"We can only hope that time will heal the resentment," Roku added softly, breaking the somber mood with a gentle, reassuring smile. "And that our future generations will learn to see past the fear."
High Sage Noju nodded in quiet agreement, his hands resting gracefully on his lap. "A wise hope, Avatar Roku," the head monk said warmly, gesturing toward the steaming platters. "But for now, please, let us not allow the weights of the past to spoil the gifts of the present. I encourage our guests to enjoy their meal while it is hot."
The heavy air in the dining hall lifted, replaced by the comforting warmth of the volcanic grates below and the steady, rhythmic murmur of the temple's daily life. Tanza continued to eat her spicy food with quietness, while her mind filed away everything she had just learned.
After lunch concluded, a few younger acolytes quietly entered the dining hall to clear away the empty clay platters and dishes. The warm, rhythmic humming from the deeper halls had faded, leaving the temple in a peaceful, serene quiet.
Avatar Roku dusted off his crimson robes as he stood up, turning to face the older airbender master with a polite expression. "Master Kelsang, if you have the energy after our long walk, would you care to walk with me for a bit? I find myself wishing to know more about what the Western Air Temple is like these days. It has been far too long since I last visited its upside-down spires."
Kelsang rose gracefully from her cushion, her features softening with a warm smile. She was more than willing to indulge the Avatar's nostalgic whims. "It would be my absolute pleasure, Roku. The Western Temple has changed very little over the decades, but its winds are always worth speaking of."
Before following the Avatar out, Kelsang turned back to face the head monk, gesturing mildly toward her young apprentice. "High Sage Noju, would it be alright for my student to wander the halls of your sanctuary while we speak? She is naturally curious, and I assure you she will not be a hindrance."
Sage Noju smiled warmly, nodding without a single moment of hesitation. "She is more than welcome to explore our home, Master Kelsang. In fact," he added, his eyes crinkling as he looked down at the six-year-old girl, "we are just about to begin a fire sage training session in the upper courtyard. I invite her to watch how our younger students practice their forms, control their flames, and study our ancient traditions. It may help widen her worldview beyond the air temples."
Kelsang bowed her head respectfully, deeply touched by the head monk's hospitality. "You have my deepest thanks, High Sage. A wonderful opportunity for her."
Tanza, on the other hand, was deeply interested in seeing how firebenders practiced their art. She had kept perfectly silent during the adults' conversation, and she hadn't even needed to ask to witness these Fire Sages train. The perfect opportunity had simply landed right in her lap.
While Roku led the way out with her master, their casual conversation drifting off through the hallway, High Sage Noju stood on the other side of the table and smiled kindly her way.
"The courtyard isn't far of a walk, come young one," he gently gestured for her to follow.
Tanza slipped her hands back into her sleeves and offered a little smile. "Thank you, High Sage Noju," she responded in kind.
She fell into step beside the elderly monk as he led her deep into the heart of the structure, and through the hallways. As they walked, the low hum of the chanting faded entirely, replaced by a deep, rhythmic rushing sound, like a heavy winter wind passing through a narrow canyon.
High Sage Noju pushed open a pair of tall, slatted wooden screen doors, and the cool shadows vanished. They stepped out onto a wide, open-air terrace paved with flat, volcanic paving stones. The upper courtyard was built right against the jagged inner rim of the caldera, offering a stunning view of the blue sky above the volcanic mist.
In the center of the terrace, about a dozen young acolytes, ranging from teenagers to children only a few years older than Tanza, were moving in perfect, synchronized harmony. They weren't punching aggressively or launching explosive blasts. Instead, they were practicing the ancient, spiritual foundation of firebending.
They moved in slow, deliberate, circular patterns, deeply bending their knees to ground their weight against the smooth stone floor. Their movements looked remarkably like a flowing dance. Each time an acolyte extended a hand or swept a leg forward, a soft, ribbon-like stream of fire would trail gracefully from their fingertips, tracing a bright orange arc through the humid air before dissolving into thin smoke.
Tanza watched from the edge of the courtyard, her wide eyes reflecting the dancing flames. To anyone watching, she looked entirely mesmerized by the beautiful show. But internally, her mind was already locking onto the rhythm of their breathing, measuring the exact distance the heat could travel, and analyzing the precise balance required to command the element.
High Sage Noju looked down at Tanza, noticing the intense, unblinking focus in her young eyes as she watched the acolytes move. He offered a gentle, knowing smile, assuming her silence was born from pure childlike awe.
"The flame is a living thing, young one," Noju explained softly, his voice cutting through the gentle whoosh of the passing fire ribbons. "Many people outside these walls, especially down at the harbors, believe that firebending is born from force, aggression, and sharp punches. But that is a modern, rigid way of thinking. The true, ancient art of the Sages is entirely different."
He pointed toward a teenage acolyte who was gracefully spinning on one heel, a perfect circle of orange fire trailing from his sweeping hands.
"Our forms are built on circles and fluid grace, much like the path of the sun across the sky," the head monk continued warmly. "We do not fight the energy, we let it flow through us. True firebending requires deep, steady breathing and a calm center. If your spirit is chaotic, the flame will sputter and die. But if your movement is smooth and circular, the fire becomes an extension of your own lifeforce."
Noju chuckled softly, giving her a gentle, grandfatherly look. "In fact, if you look closely, our ancient forms share a great deal with the movements of your own people. The wind and the flame are cousins, after all. Both require freedom, rhythm, and a spirit that refuses to be bound."
Tanza nodded, understanding that on a basic level, the forms of any given martial art would always have their variations. The ones she saw in front of her were centered entirely on the freedom of letting the fire flow from its wielder's fingertips and feet, moving as if it were a natural extension of themselves.
But now, intensely curious about what the firebenders at the harbor and the city were like, she looked up at Noju.
"And what are the firebending forms outside like?" she asked with a wide, curious look, tilting her head innocently. "You said their forms are aggressive compared to your Sage forms."
She kept her eyes wide and eager, hoping to see if he could show her or explain the exact differences.
High Sage Noju looked down at her, a look of thoughtful surprise passing over his face before he smiled. "A very perceptive question, young one. And yes, it is important to understand the difference, if only to see how the flame can lose its true way."
Noju turned toward the edge of the courtyard and raised a hand, gesturing to one of the older monks who had been quietly supervising the training. "Brother Jin, if you would be so kind? Our young guest from the Western Temple wishes to see the contrast."
The monk named Jin stepped forward, his posture noticeably different from the others. He was built broader, with a subtle stiffness in his back that spoke of years spent under heavy military armor before he ever wore the soft crimson robes of a sage.
"Brother Jin was once a soldier in the Fire Nation military before he chose a life of spiritual contemplation," Noju explained gently to Tanza. "He knows the modern forms well."
Jin offered Tanza a respectful, silent nod before stepping onto the center of the terrace. He took a deep breath, and instantly, his entire demeanor changed. The fluid, relaxed grace of the other sages vanished. He dropped into a remarkably low, rigid stance, his feet planted wide and solid against the volcanic stone like a heavy anchor.
With a sudden, explosive shout, Jin thrust his right fist forward.
WHOOSH!
Unlike the smooth, ribbon-like trails of the other acolytes, Jin's blast was a sharp, linear burst of intense orange flame that shot straight ahead like an arrow, snapping loudly in the air before dissipating. He immediately followed it with a brutal, driving kick that launched a sharp crescent wave of heat across the stone floor. Every movement was direct, aggressive, and focused on pushing forward with maximum force.
"You see," Noju commented softly over the roaring heat, "the military style focuses entirely on linear paths and raw power. It is meant to break through an opponent's defense directly. But it forgets to breathe, and it cuts the circle short."
Tanza, meanwhile, kept perfectly silent. Those were exactly the sort of moves she expected from a military full of firebenders. The flame punched through the air like a vicious torrent, biting through the mountain mist with terrifying speed.
'It's an offensive style meant for rapid conquest', she analyzed. She was more than certain there was much more to the military's forms, but it was already blindingly obvious that their combat style was vastly different from the peaceful ways of the sages.
As Jin finished his moves, Tanza spoke aloud as he faced her and Sage Noju with a nod from him. "Thank you for showing me, Brother Jin, High Sage Noju," Tanza said respectfully, earning one more nod from Jin before he returned to his training, while Noju smiled grandfatherly down at her.
"You are most welcome, young one," Noju replied warmly.
With her thanks out of the way, she faced him with an earnest look, "-but, if I may be so bold, may I practice with you?" She was very curious if she can airbend with the sage firebending form, "I wish to see if I can airbend with your form." She asked politely.
High Sage Noju's eyes crinkled with genuine delight at her request. To an old monk devoted to spiritual unity, seeing a young Air Nomad so eager to find the common threads between their elements was a beautiful, heartwarming sight.
"An excellent idea, young one," Noju agreed warmly, gesturing toward a smaller group of children practicing near the inner wall. "In fact, you should practice alongside those your own age! Follow me."
He led Tanza over to a separate stone circle where a female sage named Homura was patiently guiding a handful of younger students through basic breathing patterns. Among them was a young boy named Jian. He moved with a quiet, careful focus that made it clear Noju viewed him as a bright prospect, a future Fire Sage in the making.
"Sister Homura," Noju called out softly, causing the female sage and her young students to pause their forms. "We have a special guest joining us for a moment. This is Tanza from the Western Air Temple. She wishes to see how her airbending flows when paired with our circular movements. Jian, would you be willing to show her the opening sequence?"
Jian stepped forward from his group of friends, his cheeks slightly flushed but his posture incredibly polite. He bowed deeply, his hands pressed together in the traditional flame salute. "It would be an honor, High Sage. Welcome, Tanza."
Tanza stepped onto the volcanic stone tiles beside him, slipping her hands out of her sleeves. She mirrored his bow flawlessly, offering him a respectful smile.
Jian straightened up from his bow and took a deep, centering breath. He didn't rush. He moved with a careful, deliberate pace, wanting to show the guest his absolute best technique. Dropping his weight into a fluid, slightly bent stance, he extended his right arm in a wide, sweeping arc. As his hand glided through the air, a soft, ribbon-like wisp of orange fire trailed from his fingertips, curling gracefully around his body before fading away.
"We start from the center," Jian explained softly, his young voice echoing slightly against the stone walls. "You have to let the warmth in your chest guide your hand. Then, you step forward and let the circle widen."
He took a smooth step diagonally, sweeping both arms in a beautiful, mirrored loop that created a gentle ring of heat around them.
Tanza watched his feet, his shoulders, and the precise tracking of his hands. 'He relies on the natural heat of his breath to summon the element', she analyzed instantly. 'But air is already everywhere. I don't need to summon it.'
Stepping into place beside him, Tanza lowered her center of gravity just a fraction more than a traditional airbender ever would, anchoring herself to the volcanic tile. She took a deep breath, mimicking Jian's slow, rhythmic inhale, and copied his opening sweep.
As her arm cut through the humid mountain air, her fingers caught the ambient breeze. Instead of a blazing ribbon of fire, a faint, visible spiral of compressed wind spun off her fingertips, perfectly tracing the exact same circular path Jian's flame had taken.
Jian's eyes went wide with fascination as he watched the air twist. "Wow," he murmured, a genuine smile breaking across his face. "You caught the rhythm perfectly!"
Sister Homura and the other young acolytes watched with quiet, impressed nods, while High Sage Noju beamed with grandfatherly pride from the edge of the courtyard. To them, it looked like a beautiful dance of elemental harmony, a young airbender gracefully playing with the ancient forms of the Fire Sages.
But as Tanza smoothly transitioned into the next diagonal step, mirroring Jian's double-arm loop, her mind was memorizing the movement. 'By trapping the air inside their circular paths instead of letting it disperse, the wind gains momentum', she realized with an internal thrill. 'If I snap my wrists at the apex of this arc instead of letting it flow gracefully, this gentle circle becomes a spinning blade of pressurized air!'
She kept her movements soft, flowing, and perfectly synced with Jian's, offering the young firebender a simple smile as they finished the sequence together.