The Shadow of Kyoshi

People shouldn't have everything they want. No one is entitled to their every desire. To live in balance, we must willingly decide not to take all that we can from the world, and from others.

You either accept the risk of winning, or the guarantee of losing.

You must give up your desire for someone to tell you your choices were correct in the end.

You can have your past, or you can have your future. Not both.

No fire is ever the same fire. No Avatar is ever the same person. You and the flame change with every moment, every generation. You are one flame, and you are many.

My friend is not a diplomat. She is the failure of diplomacy. She is the breakdown of negotiations. There is no escalation of hostilities beyond her.

Enemies are enemies, but no one can shame you like your own family.

Weakness is practiced and learned as much as strength is!

Certain people... they turn you into what you were before.

Honor cannot be coveted too dearly, young lady. Sometimes it must be laid down for the good of others.

I believe I have to make peace with my own choices, just like everyone else.

She had the obligation to be more than the sum of her grievances with the world.

This is what you must forgo, Kyoshi, the easy answers. You must give up your desire for someone to tell you your choices were correct in the end.

Water was calmness and tranquility, but it was the rage of a storm as well.

She wouldn’t allow herself to become a human scar, a compendium of personal loss. She had the obligation to be more than the sum of her grievances with the world.

Human beings could drape themselves in titles and etiquette, but at their hearts they were all the same animal.

Some of my friends in the other nations would argue that, on occasion, truth and beauty must be defended with ugliness. They would claim a gardener who nurtures a flower so others can enjoy it bloom for a few moments must spend much time with their hands buried in dirt.” Kyoshi would have chosen a less pleasant word than dirt. “What do you believe then?” Jinpa smiled sadly. “I believe I have to make peace with my own choices, just like everyone else.” The tint of pain in his expression reminded her too much of Kelsang for her to believe Jinpa was at complete peace with himself. Outsiders enviously and condescendingly assumed Airbenders lived in a state of innocent bliss, but that didn’t give the monks and nuns enough credit for their inner strength. From what Kyoshi knew, belonging to the wandering nation meant a constant struggle with your own morals against the world’s.

I’m sorry for saying you had to live with your pain.” Kyoshi put her palm to his chest in a gesture of comfort. “Because you won’t.” The cold she sent through his body formed a tunnel of ice between his ribs. It happened so fast, and with so much force, the moisture in the air behind him turned to frost. His back sprouted vaporous wings of crystal that disappeared just as quickly. With his heart and lungs frozen solid, Yun fell to the side. Kyoshi took the hand with which she’d killed one of the two people she’d loved and placed it against the wound of the other. Water. She needed more water. Her tears of light weren’t enough.

It wasn’t the reaction Rangi was looking for, but Kyoshi swelled with a sudden happiness. She couldn’t help it. Rangi acting so completely, utterly normal tugged on a rope connected directly to her heart. It always would.

If one path of a fork promised you oblivion, it didn't really matter what the other path held in store.

Only home could make you feel this bad.

Rebuilding always took longer than destruction, cleaning a mess more time than making it.

Some people in my country like to believe Avatar Yangchen watches over them. But you, Fire Lord. I can assure you that Avatar Kyoshi watches over you.

I’ve heard the stories about you, Kyoshi, and I know the things you’ve seen. What do you care if a single peasant lives or dies?” She crossed the distance between them and thrust a closed fan under his chin, stopping short of his throat. “I care more for his life than I do for yours right now,” she said, examining the growing whites of Zoryu’s eyes. “Let me make myself perfectly clear. You live on top of what I control. Your islands are surrounded by my waves. You fill your very lungs at my discretion. So if I hear any news about ‘Yun’ being executed, you will truly learn what it’s like when the spirits forsake you in the face of the elements.

Outside, the floorboards creaked from the weight of a person walking, as if complete silence were a cloak the enemy could wear and discard at will. The treading of heavy boots came closer and closer. The doorway filled, blacking out the faint light from the hall, and a tall, incredibly tall, figure stepped inside. A thin line of blood trickled from its throat, as if it had been beheaded and glued back together. A dress of green silk billowed underneath the wound. Its face was a white mask, and its eyes were monstrous streaks of red. Trembling, Kuji raised his blade. He moved so slowly it felt like he was swimming through mud. The creature watched him swing his sword, its eyes on the metal, and somehow, he knew it was fully capable of putting a stop to the action. If it cared to. The edge of the dao bit into his opponent’s shoulder. There was a snapping noise, and a sudden pain lashed his cheek. The sword had broken, the top half bouncing back in Kuji’s face. It was a spirit. It had to be. It was a spirit that could pass through walls, a ghost that could float over floors, a beast impervious to blades. Kuji dropped the handle of the useless sword. His mother had told him once that invoking the Avatar could safeguard him from evil. He’d known as a child she was making up stories. But that didn’t mean he couldn’t decide to believe them right now. Right now, he believed harder than he believed anything in his life. “The Avatar protect me,” he whispered while he could still speak. He fell on his behind and scrambled to the corner of the room, blanketed completely by the spirit’s long shadow. “Yangchen protect me!” The spirit woman followed him and lowered her red-and-white face to his. A human would have passed some kind of judgment on Kuji as he cowered like this. The cold disregard in her eyes was worse than any pity or sadistic amusement. “Yangchen isn’t here right now,” she said in a rich, commanding voice that would have been beautiful had she not held such clear indifference for his life. “I am.

...at the cost of sufficient effort, sometimes heroic, inhuman effort, things could get better over time.

Fortune was an invisible, unconquerable creature that ruled commonfolk and noble alike.

Certain people . . . they turn you into who you were before.

All right then. In that case, I only have one question.” Kyoshi cast her gaze around the room. “Are you sure this is all of you?” The Triad members glanced at each other. Mok’s face swelled with rage, reddening like a berry in the sun. It wasn’t insolence so much as pragmatism, her instinct for tidiness and efficiency rising to the surface. “If not, I can wait until everyone arrives,” Kyoshi said. “I don’t want to have to go back and check each floor.” “Tear her apart!” Mok screamed. The hatchet men charged from all directions. Kyoshi drew one of her fans. Two would have been a bit much.