I had no idea what I was missing to gain control over such a rare and powerful magic as metalbending.
Control?
Given the number of sand tentacles I could create, mine was excellent.
I could control individual sand grains with near-perfect precision.
Yet metalbending remained out of reach.
Only one ability that could have helped eluded me.
Seismic sense.
I had the barest rudiments of it.
I could feel vibrations in the earth but couldn’t tell where they came from.
I knew someone was nearby but not how many.
In the cave, I’d developed this ability just enough to sense when something was digging nearby.
Without a teacher, I’d only grasped the basics needed for survival.
And books didn’t cover this subject.
Toph would never write down her thoughts, and even if she did, she couldn’t.
This ability would certainly have helped me feel metal more clearly, all its impurities and details.
So I had to ignore all that material for practice.
Instead, I walked through the camp buildings, trying to find anything useful while my legend spread through the Earth Kingdom.
I searched for everything from strategic data and reports that could help the Earth Kingdom army to food supplies.
Afka helped, greedily drooling over Fire Nation scrolls as if she wanted to carry everything back to the library.
Not surprising.
All this intelligence was undoubtedly lost.
“Give me the map.
If you’re a spirit, is it really so hard to go steal rare books from the Fire Nation?” I was tugging on a rolled parchment, trying to pull it from the fox’s greedy jaws.
“Rrr…”
“Such a grump.
But what’s your excuse?
Ha, gotcha!” I threw a small clump of sand into her mouth along with the scroll.
Afka immediately started coughing and spitting, freeing the map, which I calmly unfurled above my head.
It was a map of the territories around Omashu, showing my current location, the city, and various Fire Nation garrisons.
Useful.
Logically, I should have gotten a choice from Anubis about what to do with it, but nothing appeared.
That usually meant one thing.
I could do whatever I wanted.
“I could wait and take out the garrisons while rumors about me spread.
That would make getting into Omashu easier, don’t you think?”
I looked down and realized the fox was gone.
She was walking through the building, piling books in one spot.
When our eyes met, she froze and looked away.
I had to apologize by helping her pack the books into a bundle for easy carrying.
Since there were no other forms of entertainment besides their own people’s writings, the fox spent a long time deciding which books to take.
Carrying everything was difficult.
Military books described historical campaigns of various generals, sometimes briefly mentioning techniques used on different fronts.
There were also many books about firebending.
In such an ideological nation, everyone probably wanted to master it.
As they wrote, the key difference between firebending and other types was the ability to create fire independently.
They used their chi, excelling at channeling energy outward.
Since I could successfully mimic Waterbenders, I decided, after reading these firebending texts, to try replicating their techniques for energy release just for fun.
“I definitely won’t create fire.
But maybe something else?” I repeated a few movements, looking at the stone and sand beside me.
“Hoo?”
The effect was completely unexpected.
Hand movements produced no effect.
Nothing happened.
But when I repeated a few foot movements while standing firmly on the ground, the stone turned to sand, and the sand to stone.
I’d created a simple transformation technique I’d been practicing all this time.
Chi should have been released from my body to do this, but I felt nothing.
Probably because of my weak connection to it.
Interesting.
To prevent the enemy from reclaiming the camp, I pelted it with stones.
The nearby mountains allowed for a “power” training exercise of long-distance throwing.
Most of the buildings, roads, and walls ended up with holes or serious dents.
That was all I could do without true metalbending.
So instead of half-measures, I went for a run, hunting down Fire Nation garrisons and fueling rumors about myself.
I had to wear a mask and hood again.
That image was easier to remember.
Squads of various sizes usually occupied well-guarded, defensible positions to monitor the surroundings.
They had catapults and animals for quick transport.
Dealing with them and making them flee was much easier than with a full camp.
The catapults were useless at close range.
My travels took several days while Afka was away.
By the time I attacked any camp for training, I was already recognized and feared.
“Run, it’s that sandbender!” soldiers would shout, seeing grains rising from the earth.
The trapped soldiers would watch in terror as I walked toward them with bare, dirty feet.
The ground shook.
Small stones rose without any hand movements, turning to sand as I experimented with releasing chi through my feet.
Firebender movements made it easier to twist the earth and manipulate whole layers of matter.
I never imagined making stone from sand would be this simple, though it made sense.
Direct contact with the earth was the foundation of earthbending.
But only Firebender movements allowed you to release chi in abundant flows.
Whether that chi carried some nuance could only be understood by increasing my skill, but the trend was interesting.
With enough desire, every other bender’s style could be adapted.
I adapted by fighting Firebenders, learning their movements firsthand.
But when all the enemies were gone, and no garrisons remained…
“Like a moth in a swamp.
I’ll only get more details from actual Water Tribe masters.
They understand chi better than anyone.” I couldn’t progress without lessons.
Maybe it wasn’t worth it yet.
Omashu had something that would surely occupy all my attention anyway.
“Let’s go.
Time to uncover the secret of abrasives.”
Afka, still sulking, perked up her ears and followed me.
Crossing peaks through secret Fire Nation paths, we reached a giant cliff with a stunning view of a mountain range. This story is hosted at novelping.com.
At its center, resembling the mountains themselves, sat Omashu.
Its perfect location protected it from invasion.
Attackers could only use catapults.
A single wide road led forward, wide enough for a cart but cramped for a squad of soldiers.
“This is how you build with earthbending.” I felt inspired.
Afka was equally thrilled, her tail wagging.
We moved forward, stepped onto the suspension bridge, and accelerated slightly, turning the stone under my feet into sand.
When I got closer, I realized the city wasn’t completely isolated.
Guards examined the queue of people and let them in.
Others were turned away.
“Next time for sure,” a disappointed old man muttered, walking away.
When my turn came, everyone looked suspiciously at the hooded, masked stranger.
Pulling stones from the ground, the guards suspended them above my head.
“Remove your mask.
Who are you?”
“I’m one of you.” I lowered my mask slightly and released a small stream of sand from my gourd.
The frozen soldiers studied the magical trick tensely, then exchanged glances.
“Is this the one from the rumors?”
“Passing civilians gave us a clear description.
Hey, kid…
what’s your name?”
“Dagot.” I returned the sand to my gourd and nodded to the guards.
“I’m the one you’ve heard about.”
“…Impostor!” The guards suddenly shouted.
“We have reports from civilians.
The sandbender is three meters tall.
His muscles are like stone.
Thousands of scars cover his body from endless battles.
He’s a monster who destroyed most of the enemy garrison.
And this brat dares to claim he’s the hero?!”
Seems I overdid the intimidation.
“Just admit it.
You’re an earthbender who learned to control some dust.
Couldn’t join the army, so now you pretend to be a hero?”
Damn you, Anubis.
Why didn’t you warn me it would turn out like this?
“Either way, pass through.
The real sandbender cleared out the filth.
You should be grateful.
Because of him, all civilians can enter the city, especially earthbenders.” Spitting contemptuously on the ground, he ordered the gates opened.
I had no idea what was going through their heads or what logic they followed, but I accepted it gratefully.
After taking a few steps forward, I turned back.
“Why was the old man turned away?”
“His cabbage wasn’t fresh.”