Tanza
The quiet sanctuary of the scroll archives was a welcome reprieve. Tanza sat cross-legged at a low wooden table, the soft scratch of aging parchment satisfying her need for absolute order.
Looking back on her stay at the Southern Air Temple so far, things had gone incredibly well. While the local boys, Jamyang, Gyahn, and the twins, Gio and Gyi, had initially been a loud, exhausting handful, the frantic excitement had thankfully died down. Over the past few weeks, their days together had settled into a much more relaxed, reasonable pace. She had successfully found her place in their routine, turning their wild energy into something familiar and predictable.
Tanza turned her attention back to the scroll unrolled before her. It detailed the lives of past monk masters, tracking exactly what they had discovered about unique ways to use the wind. As she read through their stories, her mind drifted back to the airball court the boys had eagerly taken her to shortly after her arrival.
They had insisted she join in, and Tanza, knowing it would help her fit in, had agreed to play.
The game itself was a wonderful way for airbenders to test their quick movements, sharpness, and pure bending skills under pressure. Naturally, once she figured out how the ball bounced and moved, she understood the game easily. By the end of the match, she had completely beaten the boys at their own game.
The twins had loudly complained about the sudden loss, and Gyahn had thrown his hands up in disbelief, but Jamyang had handled it with true kindness. The eldest boy had been humble enough to smile, genuinely impressed.
"Wow, Tanza, you're a really fast learner," Jamyang had remarked, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. "You're an awesome player, seriously. Since you're going to be staying here for a while, do you think... we could play more some other time?"
Tanza smiled softly at the memory, her eyes returning to the ancient writing. Jamyang was proving to be a reliable, level-headed friend, and keeping him close would only make exploring the grand Southern Temple that much easier.
Back to reality though, she studied the next scroll she had pulled from a shelf titled "Northern Temple Grain Expenditures and Third-Tier Weather Monologues." An odd thing to have cataloged in the archives, but she took it upon herself to read for a quick bit. But as she read further through it, a few old parchment papers slipped out. Her eyes darted instantly to the first page.
'Someone hid these?' Tanza thought, her curiosity fully piqued.
Picking up the loose pages, she began to read the ink strokes. The text was a collection of raw, emotional journal entries written by an anonymous hand from generations ago:
"—for the third time, I have come into conflict with Avatar Yangchen, and her use of our temples to house criminals… I even told her, that If we act as jailers for too long, the others will develop a taste for domination over human beings and we will no longer be true Air Nomads! But what does she do? She ignores my warning!"
Tanza allowed herself to raise a brow as she read the brief passage. This put a spotlight on the last Airbender Avatar, which put Yangchen in a different light in contrast to popular opinion. To the rest of the world, Yangchen was an unquestioned figure of absolute wisdom. But to the anonymous author of this note, she was a stubborn leader making a dangerous political blunder.
Reading further to another note:
"— I am starting to consider that I must decide whether to speak with the other Masters to exile Yangchen and her Avatar duties from our Temples, or speak with her again myself! This is going too far! Just last night, I found Yangchen speaking with our airbender and non-bender acolytes. She was addressing them of what information they were able to gather back to her."
"She's using our people as secret informants! This is beyond heretical, this is beyond what we monks should allow! No, I will confront her myself, and deal with this mess, for all I know, the other Masters are in on it too!"
Tanza leaned back with a surprised look. This passage revealed far more than she thought it would, and confirmed that it was indeed some old journal notes by the way it read. This put Yangchen in a very controversial light. But considering this all happened generations ago, such information was long forgotten about, with Yangchen's more gentle manners and public achievements being left to be remembered.
If anything, this meant something significant had happened in the past between this nameless master and Yangchen, and in the days that followed.
"Fascinating," Tanza thought, her eyes lingering on the word informants. It was a harsh reminder that even the most spiritual figures in this world played the game of global politics when survival or control was on the line. Yangchen had weaponized the natural, unquestioned access of the Air Nomads to build an international intelligence network. It was an incredibly practical, ruthless move disguised behind a smile.
Back to the scroll though, she found a second last passage in the parchment papers:
"The temple is in ruins, the mountain has bled, and my monks are critically injured because the Avatar made jailers out of us. Tonight, I banished Yangchen from the Northern Air Temple forever. She accepted her exile, knowing the blood on our floors is the cost of her global games. I am closing this journal. From this day forward, my only duty is to the refugees and the sick in the village hospital below. Let the wind wash away her secrets."
But it was the very last entry on the loose parchment that made Tanza pause. The flowing, neat brushstrokes of the nameless monk abruptly stopped. Beyond his final words, several extra lines had been added, written in a completely different, sharper handwriting. It was possibly Yangchen herself who had written into it, leaving her own final thoughts on the stolen page:
"For all who read his passages, know I did everything with the best of intentions, but in the end, the best of intentions are not always met with happy endings. The Air Nomads may think they can be free of the world, but I know in my mind and heart, there will come a time when they will face the worst, and by then, I fear the worst for my people. I only sought to fulfill my duties as the Avatar, but in the end, the blood is on my hands, and I accept this. But know this, there is no such thing as a free world without bloody hands. For one to be a pacifist, another must be willing to bloody their hands for that pacifist."
Tanza stared at the text, the sheer gravity of the Avatar's confession echoing deeply within her own mind. The irony was absolute. The dead monk had closed his diary probably hoping his words would be burned after his death, but Yangchen's shadow network had intercepted it, and the Avatar had used his private grief as a canvas to write her own dark truth.
More than that, Tanza felt a slight bit of respect. Yangchen wasn't a naive spiritualist; she was a clear-eyed woman who understood the exact cost of peace. The world was a dangerous place, and hiding on a mountaintop wouldn't protect anyone when the gears of war started turning.
"You were entirely right, Lady Yangchen," Tanza thought, her eyes narrowing as she absorbed the lesson. "A world of pacifists only survives if someone else is willing to do the dirty work. And I have no intention of letting my hands stay clean if it means my own survival."
Wordlessly, Tanza carefully gathered the hidden papers and pocketed them for safekeeping, before she rolled the rest of the scroll tightly, slid the parchment neatly into its hollow wooden case and secured the cap with a firm, practiced click. Standing up from the low table, she walked down the narrow, sunlit aisle of the archive room and returned it to its shelf, completely blending the weirdly titled record back into the rows of boring paperwork.
Just as her hand left the shelf though, the heavy wooden doors finished swinging open, and Monk Gyatso's familiar, cheerful voice filled the high-ceilinged room.
"I tell you, Pathik, these archives haven't changed a single bit since your last visit," Gyatso said with a warm chuckle, gesturing around the vast stone library.
"The physical world rarely changes as fast as the mind, my old friend," another monk replied, his voice bright, clear, and steady.
Tanza stood still by the shelves, her posture relaxed but her eyes locked onto the stranger walking beside Gyatso.
The man looked to be in his late thirties or early forties, with a healthy, vibrant face, and thick black hair. He wore simple, earthy clothing that did not belong to any specific nation. There was even a deeply settled, calm weight to his posture as he walked in beside Gyatso.
Tanzo on the other hand walked out of the narrow aisle, as there was no point in needing to hide, but her movement did catch their attention as she walked. "Ah, Tanza!" Gyatso remarked in surprise, and mild amusement, while also catching the unknown monk's as well. "Burying your nose in the old scrolls again, I see." He chuffed in amusement, before he gestured for her to come out of the aisle, "Come, I want you to meet a very dear friend of our people!"
While Tanza nodded while she stepped out of the aisle, her head angled a bit up to peer at the men's faces.
Gysato on the other hand gestured to his friend, "This is Pathik! He is a spiritual brother to the Air Nomads-" He chuckled a bit, "-His own journey even takes him all across the world like ours." He remarked.
Pathik smiled warmly, offering a polite, respectful bow to the young girl. "It is a pleasure to meet you, young Tanza." He greeted, while Tanza returned the bow.
Pathik raised a hand gently, "But please, little one, do not let us disrupt you. I must apologize for our loud intrusion into your quiet studies."
In response, she calmly shook her head, before speaking curtly. "You harmed nothing, Guru Pathik," Tanza responded easily and politely. "I had actually just finished reading my scroll and was returning it to the shelf when you arrived. It is a true pleasure to meet a friend of Master Gyatso." she reasoned back.
Gyatso chuffed softly, a fond, crinkling smile spreading across his face, though he shook his head in gentle disapproval. "A pleasure it may be, Tanza, but I must say, you've been burying yourself in these dusty old shelves far too much lately." He shook his finger at her, "You're a child, you know! The archives will still be here when you're an old monk like me."
He stepped closer, playfully shooing her away from the shelves with a wave of his sleeve. "The sun is high, the wind is perfect, and I happen to know Jamyang and the twins are out on the courtyards right now. Go on outside and get some fresh air. Enjoy some fun with the boys before your stay here comes to an end!"
Tanza did in fact check the daylight, as it looked near noon judging by the sunlight, and looked back at the two with a calm smile, "Yes, Master Gyatso." Tanza bowed once, "It was very nice to meet you, Guru Pathik, may you have a pleasant chat!" She finished, as she had studied one scroll that was worth enough to remember and study about all on her own.
Inside the quiet room, the heavy doors clicked shut behind her. The lighthearted smile slowly dissolved from Gyatso's face, his playful energy completely draining away as he turned back to his friend.
Once the silence passed after a few moments, Gyatso was the first to speak.
"The world outside our mountains is growing very loud, Pathik," Gyatso murmured, his tone turning heavy and serious. "Even Kelsang speaks of a cold, aggressive shift when she passed through the Fire Nation islands."
In turn, Pathik walked over to a nearby window, looking out over the misty valleys below. The calm weight of his posture seemed to grow even heavier, his brow furrowing as he let out a slow, measured breath.
"The currents of the world are twisting, old friend," Pathik said softly, his voice incredibly sober. "The Fire Nation is becoming far more aggressive these days. Their ships are moving through waters they have no right to cross, and their leaders are pushing boundaries that have stood for centuries."
He turned back to Gyatso, his expression tight with concern. "Have you heard what happened at the Water Tribe Sacred Island?"
Gyatso frowned, stepping closer. "The sacred ground between the poles? Severe disputes have been brought to that island for thousands of years, and the chiefs make a voyage there at least once in their careers to pay respect to the land. What has happened?"
Pathik shrugged in dismay, "I do not know the full story, as the news from the great oceans travels slowly to the valleys," Pathik admitted, shaking his head slightly. "But during my recent travels along the Earth Kingdom coast, I met a traveler who had just arrived from a trading port near the Southern Tribe. He mentioned overhearing a group of sailors speaking in low, frightened voices about a great insult on the sacred island."
Pathik turned his gaze back to the window, his voice dropping. "From what little he could gather, a Southern chieftain sailed to the sacred ground to pay his respects, only to find Fire Nation warships already docked there. The rumor is that the Fire Nation has claimed the island as their own territory. They also say the Northern Chief wanted to send his entire fleet to take it back by force, but the Southern chiefs are completely divided and unwilling to start an open war over a distant rock."
Gyatso went entirely still, his hand tightening slightly inside his long sleeve. "To claim a sacred neutral ground... even as a mere rumor, the thought is deeply troubling. If the Fire Nation is truly pushing their borders into the open sea, it is an act of open defiance against the traditions of the tribes."
"Exactly," Pathik agreed softly, turning back to face his friend. "We are monks, Gyatso. We try our best not to be concerned with the political squabbles of kings and chieftains. Our duty is to the spirit and the wind. But when you travel the roads as I do, it is hard not to hear what happens. The fear in the trading ports is real. The Fire Nation Navy is testing the waters, seeing exactly how much they can seize before the world snaps back. I fear a great storm is brewing, and it is moving faster than any of us realize."
Gyatso stared at the floor, "If the Fire Nation is pushing this hard while Roku is still alive," Gyatso whispered, before he looked up with a cold dread settling in his chest, "I fear what will happen to the world when his time finally runs out."
On the other side of the wooden door, Tanza had been on the other side of the doorway the entire time. Her sharp instinct had whispered that there was more than one reason the two adults needed the room—specifically, to speak in hushed tones far away from children's ears.
She had quietly held her ear to the thick wooden door, filtering out the ambient echoes of the temple corridors, and she had heard it all.
"So the Fire Nation has claimed an island already!" Tanza calculated, her eyes narrowing in the dim hallway light. "No... this isn't just a minor territorial insult to the Water Tribes. This is a mere precursor to their eventual invasion of the Earth Kingdom!"
Hearing the subtle rustle of robes inside signaling the end of the conversation, Tanza stepped away immediately. She made her way down the corridor with practiced, silent steps, ensuring that if anyone opened the doors, she would simply appear to be a child walking casually down the hall, entirely innocent of eavesdropping.
As she reached a quiet terrace, she began to bite lightly on her thumb, a nervous habit forming as she aggressively dug into her memories of her first life's favorite hobby: military history.
She began to dissect the geography of this world. A highly militarized, industrialized island country like the Fire Nation couldn't just launch a massive army across the sea without preparation. To stage a successful, full-scale offensive along the massive, sprawling coast of the Earth Kingdom, their navy would need as many strategic 'in-between' islands as possible.
Those outposts would serve as vital naval staging grounds, supply depots, and coaling stations for their heavy metal ships. By securing a sacred, neutral island right between the poles, the Fire Nation wasn't just insulting the Water Tribes—they were systematically locking down the ocean lanes and building a perfect logistical launchpad to strike the Earth Kingdom continent from multiple angles the exact moment Avatar Roku died.
So many pieces were moving into motion, and the only thing she could do was what… train? Study? She was only six, and no sane adult would listen to a mere child her age…
She scowled and stormed off, surely she was worrying too much, there was no way the Fire Nation could invade the entire world, that would be ridiculous! She was worrying over nothing, and the only logical reason for the Fire Nation to attack any of the Airbender Temples, was to kill the next Avatar once they are known about years after Roku's death.
But the thing is, from the looks of it, they are already primed and ready to attack, they only needed to wait for Roku to die, and then attack…
The sheer weight of the calculation forced her to stop by a stone railing overlooking the sunlit courtyard below. Her denial was entirely useless against the cold, hard facts. The Fire Nation wasn't waiting around for the next Avatar to grow up before mobilizing. They were building the global infrastructure for war now, moving resources now, and testing the world's boundaries now. They were completely ready; they were simply waiting for the old clock on Roku's life to stop ticking.
But as Tanza rounded the corner of the stone hallway a bit too quickly, her mind still furiously parsing out naval positions and invasion logistics. Lost in her scowl, she failed to notice the tall, rigid figure stepping out from the adjoining corridor until she nearly collided directly with his thick, pristine robes.
She caught her balance instantly, stepping back as a cold, disapproving aura seemed to drop over the entire hallway.
Standing before her was Elder Tashi. He was a deeply severe man, his face permanently lined with a dour, humorless expression that made him look like a carved piece of mountain granite. His arms were folded tightly inside his dark orange sleeves, and his eyes drilled down into her with absolute, unflinching judgment.
"Watch your step, child," Tashi scolded, his voice a flat, echoing rasp that carried zero warmth. "Acolytes of the wind are taught to glide through these corridors with weightless grace, yet you are stomping through these sacred halls with the heavy, reckless focus of a blind earthbender. What is disrupting your inner peace so thoroughly that you forget your basic forms?"
He stepped closer, his shadow completely engulfing her small six-year-old frame. "An undisciplined body reflects a cluttered, chaotic mind. Speak. Why are you rushing through the sanctuary with such a dark countenance?"
'Crap!' Tanza proceeded to curse more of her absent mindness, but she cut that quick as she stood ramrod straight, and gave a respectful bow to the elder; she has dealt with his sort, the 'no-nonsense' type, and the sort to mete out punishments if it pleased them. "Apologies, honorable elder, my mind was just… just hazy from studying in the archives!" she snapped herself straight back to stand and stare respectfully up at him, while folding her hands behind her back.
After all, it was all truthful, and she can even ask Master Gyatso for the alibi! She gave the elder an honest, tired look, "I'm afraid I took the effort to study there all morning, and I believe some food might help remedy that for lunch time!" she added as an excuse for him to dismiss her, hopefully.
Tanza kept her gaze fixed upward, matching his silent stare while maintaining her rigid posture. She noticed his sharp eyes flick down, tracking the straight line of her spine, her squared shoulders, and the locked position of her hands behind her back. The elder didn't say a word, letting an agonizing silence stretch between them in the cold corridor. Tanza didn't flinch under the scrutiny; she knew this type of silence was an old authoritarian trick designed to break a subordinate's nerve, and she simply waited for him to make the next move.
He pulled at his chin beard a bit, his severe expression shifting only slightly as he continued to study her unusual discipline.
"Tell me, child," Tashi finally spoke, his voice dropping into a cold tone. "Have you ever played Pai Sho?"
Tanza blinked, her slipped into a puzzled expression. A strategy board game was entirely unexpected.
Before she could answer, Tashi continued, "Your hasty and absent-minded collision has reminded me why I was heading down this corridor in the first place. I was on my way to spot a game with one of the other elders. However, seeing as how you are lacking in basic awareness today, you will be my opponent as recompense. Consider it a lesson in sharpening your focus." He chided her with a mild glare.
Tanza kept her hands folded behind her back, her mind instantly trying to calculate the true motive behind the request. Was he testing her? Or was he simply a lonely old man looking to pass the time?
Noticing her puzzled silence, Tashi huffed softly, crossing his arms deeper into his sleeves. "I am well aware of what the young ones whisper about me in the courtyards, Tanza. You likely view me as a rigid stick in the mud." He grouched with a snarl, before huffing a small bit, and shook his finger out, "But the game of Pai Sho itself works well on the mind to flex how to solve real problems."
He then snidely shook his head, "I only wish the acolytes would stop playing it all day for idle sport, there are far more important duties to attend to in this life, after all!" He grouched deeply.
He turned on his heel, his heavy robes swirling around his ankles as he began to walk back down the corridor. "Come. The tiles are already set, and a hungry belly should provide a sharp motivation to finish the match quickly."
'Eh?' Were Tanza's inner thoughts, but she quickly rid them and chased after the old man. The last thing she wanted was to get on the bad side of one elder; who knows, she might get something out of this in the end if she plays well…