The Rise of Kyoshi

What you do when no one is guiding you determines who you are.

The illusion that the self is separate from the rest of the world is the driving factor that limits our potential. Once you realize there's nothing special about the self, it becomes easier to manipulate.

The Avatar can be reborn. But you can't, Kyoshi. I don't want to give you up to the next generation. I couldn't bear to lose you.

The stupid, smug whims of one unworthy man had left fingerprints on history that weren’t likely to be erased.

They’re all the same, Kyoshi thought. Every single one. Whether they clothe themselves in business or brotherhood or a higher calling only they can see, it doesn't matter. They’re one and the same. They look at themselves like forces of nature, as inevitable ends, but they’re not. Their depth is as false as the shoals at low tide. They twist the meaning of justice to absolve themselves of conscience. They’re humans like us, made of skin and guts and pain. They need to be reminded of that fact.

I wish I could give you your due,” Rangi muttered after some time had passed. “The wisest teachers. Armies to defend you. A palace to live in.” Kyoshi raised an eyebrow. “The Avatar gets a palace?” “No, but you deserve one.” “I don’t need it,” Kyoshi said. She smiled into Rangi’s hair, the soft strands caressing her lips. “And I don’t need an army. I have you.” “Psh,” Rangi scoffed. “A lot of good I’ve been so far. If I were better at my job you would never feel scared. Only loved. Adored by all.” Kyoshi gently nudged Rangi’s chin upward. She could no more prevent herself from doing this than she could keep from breathing, living, fearing. “I do feel loved,” she declared. Rangi’s beautiful face shone in reflection. Kyoshi leaned in and kissed her. A warm glow mapped Kyoshi’s veins. Eternity distilled in a single brush of skin. She thought she would never be more alive than now. And then— The shock of hands pushing her away. Kyoshi snapped out of her trance, aghast. Rangi had flinched at the contact. Repelled her. Viscerally, reflexively. Oh no. Oh no. This couldn’t—not after everything they’d been through—this couldn’t be how it— Kyoshi shut her eyes until they hurt. She wanted to shrink until she vanished within the cracks of the earth. She wanted to become dust and blow away in the wind. But the sound of laughter pulled her back. Rangi was coughing, drowning herself with her own tears and mirth. She caught her breath and retook Kyoshi by the hips, turning to the side, offering up the smooth, unblemished skin of her throat. “That side of my face is busted up, stupid,” she whispered in the darkness. “Kiss me where I’m not hurt.

It’ll never get easier. If you had a strict rule, maybe, to always show mercy or always punish, you could use it as a shield to protect your spirit. But that would be distancing yourself from your duty. Determining the fates of others on a case-by-case basis, considering the infinite combinations of circumstance, will wear on you like rain on the mountain. Give it enough time, and you’ll bear the scars.” He spoke out of kindness and sorrow, perhaps not as immutable as he claimed to be. “You will never be perfectly fair, and you will never be truly correct,” Lao Ge said. “This is your burden.” To keep deciding, over and over again.

You will never be perfectly fair, and you will never be truly correct,” Lao Ge said. “This is your burden.

Both sides' was a rhetorical weapon used by hypocrites and the ignorant.

Nope! Gonna cut you off right there. The last time I listened to a Firebender talk about 'honor' my ears nearly rotted off my skull. Had to kick him out of my bed with both feet.

All this fretting about the spirits. I'm trying to teach you about the mind. An infinite world that's been neglected by far too many explorers.

Kiss me where I’m not hurt.

Where you go, I go. Besides, there's only one bison, rocks-for-brains.

They twist the meaning of justice to absolve themselves of conscience.

They look at themselves like forces of nature, as inevitable ends, but they’re not. Their depth is as false as the shoals at low tide. They twist the meaning of justice to absolve themselves of conscience.

It was said that each Avatar was born in fitting times, to an era that needed them. Judging by its start, the era of Kyoshi would be marred by uncertainty, fear, and death, the only gifts she seemed capable of producing for the world. The people would never revere her like they did Yangchen or smile at her like they did Kuruk. Then let it be so, she thought. She would fight her ill fortune, her bad stars, and protect those who might despise her to the very end of her days.

No one had warned her how empty it would feel to have a singular goal and see it achieved.

As much as Kyoshi wanted to stay with her, in a single, frozen pool of moments, the current carrying them forward was too strong.

There was a tickle against her brow. She and Rangi looked up to see a swirling dance of leaves, spinning around in a circle, the two of them caught in its eye. Kelsang used to make her laugh in the garden like this, by swirling the air, letting her touch the currents and feel the wind run between her fingers. Kyoshi let the breeze play against her skin before giving it a gentle push with her hand. The wind spun faster at her request. She could feel Kelsang smiling warmly at her, a final gift of love. “They’ll always be with us,” she said to Rangi. “Always.

Those who grow, live and die. The stagnant pool is immortal, while the clear flowing river dies an uncountable number of deaths. -Lao Ge

It’s amazing what the mind can be led to believe,” Lao Ge said.

With their eyes on each other, it was easy to be brave. Maybe that’s the only way we get through this, Kyoshi thought. Just never look away.

He knew nothing of leadership besides making demands and doling out cruelties when they weren’t met. Control by tantrum,

I've got two knives that are cast in bronze/ they pierce all the way to the soul/ they draw you in with the promise of sin/ like the moth to the flame to the coal I've got hair like the starless night / it sticks to my lips when I smile / I'll wind it with yours and we'll drift of course/ in a ship touching hearts all the while For they way I walk is a lantern lit/ that leads you into the night/ I'll hold you close and love you the most/ until our end is in sight

Her spirit was a beacon, a shimmering signal in the darkness. Steady. Reassuring. Unique. It was everything he wanted.

White symbolizes treachery, a sinister nature, suspicion of others, and the willingness to visit evil deeds upon them. But red symbolizes honor. Loyalty. Heroism. This is the face that we show our sworn brothers and sisters. The red is the trust that we have for each other, buried in the field of white but always showing through in our gaze.

This isn’t spiritualism,” he said. “You don’t have to believe. You simply have to practice.

I’ll tell Rangi you’re up and coherent.” He paused by the door. His expression turned hesitant. “Do you think . . . once things settle down, I might have a chance with her?” Kyoshi stared at him in astonishment. Lek held her gaze as long as he could. Then he burst into laughter. “Your face!” he cackled. “You should see your—Oh, that has to be the face you make in your Avatar portrait! Bug-eyed and furious!” And to think they’d shared a moment. “Go soak your head, Lek,” she snapped. “Sure thing, sister. Or else you’ll do it for me?” He waved his hands in mockery of waterbending and made a drowning noise as he left the room. Kyoshi’s cheeks heated in frustration. And then, like a glacier cracking, they slowly melted into a grin. She noticed what he’d called her for the first time.

Lek swung his legs off the chair, unable to stay in the same position lest the memory catch up to him. “The funny thing is, Date Grove doesn’t exist anymore. It was running out of water, on its last legs while I was there. It’s been swallowed by the desert. The people of the town killed my brother to uphold the law, and it meant nothing in the end. If the law was there to protect the village, and the village didn’t survive, then what did they gain?