To recreate the techniques of Airbenders, to be as agile and indistinguishable from the legendary Air Nomads, required far more effort than I initially expected.
For several days, I studied only the basics.
My food supplies ran out multiple times, forcing me to constantly interrupt my studies to travel to the nearest settlement for provisions.
The biggest problem was the element I was controlling.
Sand was much heavier.
Many techniques from the scrolls were meant to be performed at speeds that made my natural “heaviness” a major hindrance.
Yes, I could dash and jump.
But I always stopped before striking to push the heavy sand.
I had to find a compromise.
I controlled less sand but at astonishing speeds.
After a few attempts, I adapted to completely different velocities.
The sand helped me race through the library’s multi-kilometer corridors.
I even started racing Afka my little fox companion.
Her body wasn’t bound by simple physics, and whenever she needed to show me a section quickly, she’d dart through wind and walls to get there.
But what I enjoyed most was the Air Nomad philosophy.
When I wanted to relax, I read the works of various Gurus.
Their measured reflections on life, on every living being, resonated with me.
Mostly because they weren’t blind to the conditions a person might face.
If you had to kill to survive, or to maintain balance in the universe, they all concluded that sometimes there was no other option.
“The works of Guru Pathik are especially profound,” I mused, bringing a cup of banana-onion soup to my lips.
I’d made it from ingredients bought in the nearest settlement.
I glanced at Afka.
“A person can become exponentially better by mastering themselves.
He could calm others’ anger with a single touch.
And he writes that if a bender achieves the same, it would make them the master of their own destiny.
Want some?”
“Rrr…”
“You know, this is way better than dried scorpion meat.
It’s refreshing.
Energizing.”
Thump.
Afka batted my hand, spilling the soup all over my face.
Hissing viciously, the little menace hid among the bookshelves, poking out just her muzzle and sticking out her tongue.
If it weren’t for the Guru’s teachings, I probably would’ve thrown the cup back at her.
Instead, I just dried the moisture from my clothes and realized that without deeper guidance, I’d never truly grasp the harmony Pathik wrote about.
So I pulled out a more practical text.
In the Airbending section, there was one book by an unknown Master.
I probably wouldn’t have paid attention to an unknown author’s technique if it hadn’t been the legendary Air Scooter.
The technique invented by Avatar Aang himself.
With it, you could move across horizontal and vertical surfaces while maintaining high mobility.
Since even children could master it in the cartoon, it didn’t take me long to replicate a sand version.
The first few attempts were wobbly.
But soon, a dense, sandy vortex was spinning beneath my feet, capable of accelerating to incredible speeds.
“Rrr!” Afka growled as I chased her, trying to grab her tail.
She usually escaped by running up walls where my speed dropped.
But now I closed the distance quickly, grabbed her fluffy tail, and landed on the bridge.
“Af-af!
Rya!”
“Harassing my poor assistant?” Wan Shi Tong’s voice rumbled behind me.
I loosened my grip, letting the fox slip away and bolt, then turned to face the towering owl.
“Um…” I forced a smile, quickly recalling the Guru’s teachings.
“I was trying to enlighten this lively creature.
Spilling soup on me could damage the books!”
The owl’s head twisted and stretched unnervingly.
His eyes focused on my sand scooter, which I quickly deactivated.
“I see you’re mastering the wisdom of a dead people while continuing to improve yourself.
Air Nomad techniques were mostly designed to preserve life.
That’s why I prefer them over others.”
“Me too.
But honestly, I’m about to start studying other cultures.
They also heavily influenced my ancestors.”
“Human, if you follow the peaceful philosophy you’ve been so diligently reading, I might make certain concessions.” The owl’s neck encircled me.
“I can let the spirit of knowledge accompany you, since you’ve grown so close.
But not for free.
She’ll collect the knowledge you discover or create.”
“Oh…”
“Choose:”
1: Accept the offer (You can only minimally deviate from the Guru’s philosophy.
A spirit of knowledge will accompany you).
2: Deceive (You’re used to choosing less honorable options and won’t bind yourself with oaths.
You can twist the vow.
A spirit of knowledge will accompany you.
The consequences of deception are unknown).
3: Make a more serious agreement (You vow to never kill and never eat meat.
The spirit of knowledge will actively help you develop your abilities).
4: Refuse (You won’t take spiritual oaths, but you won’t betray anyone either.
Wan Shi Tong will respect your honesty and won’t ban you from the library as long as you follow its rules).
The phrase “spiritual vow” made it clear this wasn’t a simple agreement.
If even Anubis couldn’t predict the consequences, I needed to be careful.
But the true Air Nomad philosophy would always be limiting.
Thinking I’d never break a vow even for loved ones, whom I hoped to have someday was naive.
Staying peaceful, never seeking revenge.
I wasn’t insane enough to completely renounce killing.
Some people simply didn’t deserve mercy.
But minimizing it?
That was a worthy goal.
“You know,” I met the owl’s gaze with my own, not quite sincere but respectful.
“I’m glad someone judges me by more than my appearance.”
Even the owl, and Afka too, didn’t care about my looks.
It felt wrong to lie directly to his face.
“So I’ll happily accept your faithful companion as a friend.”
“Hoot-hoo-hoo.” The creature laughed in a strange way.
“Humans can twist words in ways spirits can’t.
I’m watching you, human.
Very closely.
But I’m entrusting you with the spirit of knowledge.”
“Thank you.
But…
do I really have to give up meat?”
“No.
I enjoy a mouse or two myself sometimes.”
Blinking innocently and making me smile, the free-flying bird vanished from sight.
So now I had to care for the lively creature sitting among the bookshelves, sticking her tongue out at me.
Guru Pathik, how I wish I could calm creatures with a single touch like you, great master.
My stay continued in another section the Water Tribe culture.
It was divided into North and South, but the principle of their magic was the same.
Smooth, graceful movements reflecting fluidity and change.
The Water techniques came easily.
Water had roughly the same weight as sand.
It required stable footing and constant circular motions, just like my father taught me.
Almost every combat move I knew could be replicated with water.
I read techniques until late into the night, even after the hourglass turned and marked a new day.
It was just that interesting.
There was only one significant difference between Water and Sand schools.
Healing.
Water could restore the flow of Chi in a person’s body, accelerating regeneration using the body’s own energy.
I noticed that when I tried to replicate the technique exactly with sand, I ended up with my drying ability.
“I have a feeling my father learned that technique from Waterbenders.” Understanding the nuances, I remembered how I’d drained that bandit when I grabbed his arm.
I’d probably sucked out all his Chi.
Destroyed every last drop.
That’s why he lost control of his bending so quickly.
The more I learned about Earth bending and its sub-branches, the more powerful it seemed in my eyes.
What if I studied Chi not through silent scrolls, but from actual Water Tribe teachers?
How much deeper could I understand Earth bending?
How much better would it become compared to the other so-called schools?
My checklist was growing. This story is hosted at g.com.
Before I left, I had to study Earth culture too.
If Water bending felt easy, stone came to me without any trouble.
I’d honed the basics in the caves, knowing they’d be useful eventually.
Combined with my physical strength and the superb control all sandbenders possessed, basic techniques weren’t a problem.
But even Earth bending, which seemed so monolithic, could surprise me.
“Avatar Kyoshi used weapons to enhance her bending!” Studying a scroll on one of the Avatars, my eyebrows shot up.
“Her fans allowed finer control over Earth and Air.
She invented a principle of energy accumulation where sweeping weapons could amplify a burst of power!”
The style she created was considered the best for Earthbenders.
But as far as I knew, you could only learn it on Kyoshi Island.
“Afka, no one ever went there to copy such a useful technique?” I gave my fox a disapproving look, only to receive a dry stare in return.
She was telling me to get lost.
“Lazybones.
Then we’ll go ourselves!”
That actually perked her up.
After thoroughly studying the stone and mineral section, I was finally ready to leave.
Yes, I hadn’t learned everything.
To do that, I’d have to stay here forever.
I couldn’t be that greedy, especially with a spirit of knowledge at my side.
Its presence gave me one incredible advantage.
It could retrieve any scroll from the library and bring it to me wherever I was.
One thing bothered me though.
I didn’t want the library to suddenly disappear, the spirits returning to their own world.
That meant I had to change the canon.
“Afka, show me the planetarium.”
Smiling at my assistant, I quickly followed her through the endless dark corridors.
We ventured deep into the library’s bowels until we reached a hidden section.
I wasn’t even surprised by the giant hall that made me look like an ant.
I calmly walked to the calendar in the center of the room and remembered what I needed.
“So…
I need the date of a solar eclipse.” Placing my hands on the stone calendar, which reminded me of the Maya, I began to turn it slowly.
The mechanism in the center moved the “sun” and “moon” across the dome.
Finally, I saw the moon eclipse the sun.
I stopped and recorded the exact date.
“What are you doing here?” A voice spoke behind me.
I wasn’t surprised anymore.
I could feel her movements through the earth’s vibrations.
After all these days, I just smiled and turned to face the owl.
“Oh, Wan Shi Tong.
Have you ever seen a solar eclipse?
Not in the planetarium.
For real.” I walked over and hugged her.
“…No.
I think leaving the library is pointless and foolish.
That’s what my assistants are for.”
“You know, you can’t understand the world just through books and projections.
Seeing things with your own eyes, not just in pictures, gives you more experience and knowledge.
At the very least, you could write your own thoughts about what you see.”
“…When’s the next eclipse?” The bird looked at the calendar and nodded thoughtfully.
“I’ll consider whether to clear my busy schedule for such nonsense.”
“Good.” I put my hands in my pockets and headed for the exit.
The owl studied my clothes and the gourd of sand on my back.
“…You’re finally leaving?”
“Yes.
As I said, there’s much in the world you can’t learn from books.”
“Hoot-hoot.
Don’t forget to share new knowledge.
And if you watch that solar eclipse, send me a scroll with your thoughts.”
“Greedy bird.”
Smiling, I raised my hand and gave a thumbs up.
It was time to leave the desert.