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Kindle Notes & Highlights
by
F.C. Yee
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February 9 - March 11, 2024
There was no force in existence stronger than a child’s righteous fury at being robbed.
He smiled. The two of them were adorable together. He could have watched them all day,
“What you do when no one is guiding you determines who you are,”
Kyoshi quickly did the math in her head—and, yes, if that had happened, Rangi wouldn’t have been born. “You did the right thing,” she said, with more ferocity than she intended to show.
She knew from experience there was no trouble so great that she couldn’t pack it away. Kelsang wasn’t certain, therefore she didn’t need to worry.
Kyoshi caught herself gawking, having never seen her friend out of uniform before.
The faint, flowery scent that filled Kyoshi’s lungs made her head swim and her pulse quicken. Kyoshi kept still like it was her life’s calling, unwilling to make any motion that might disturb her friend’s fitful slumber.
Kyoshi closed her eyes. She did her best to ignore the pain of her arm losing circulation and her heart falling into a pile of ribbons.
More like a lion dance at the New Year, Auntie Mui once said, fanning herself, with a dreamy smile on her face. Stable below and wild on top.
“You did good, kid,” said a man with a husky voice and an accent like Master Amak’s. “They’ll be telling stories about this for a long time.” Kyoshi spun around, afraid a pirate had gotten the drop on her, but there was no one there.
“So much wasted time,” Jianzhu said. “I could have taught you sooner, if only I hadn’t been distracted by that little swindler.”
But they weren’t fighting the same fight. Kelsang meant to blast his friend away, to knock the madness out of him, to overwhelm him with the least amount of harm done, in the way of all Air Nomads.
Jianzhu’s expression flickered with a sadness that was deeper and truer than what he’d given to Yun, as he watched his friend fall. Kelsang collapsed to the ground, his head bouncing lifelessly off the hard-packed earth.
The sunrise after the storm had no idea what Kyoshi had been through. It shined its warm hues of orange through the clouds like a loud boor of a friend insisting that everything would work out.
“Rangi.” Kyoshi tried one last time to growl in threat. Instead the name came out like a dedication of thanks to the spirits for this fiery blessing of a girl. It was futile trying to mask how Kyoshi felt toward her.
There was a struggle in Kyoshi’s chest that had nothing to do with how hard she was running, notes of longing and fear played in one chord. She tamped the feeling down, not wanting to confront what it meant right now.
each trying to show the other how upset they were through aggressive gnawing.
“Topknot’s got it,” Lek said, pointing at Rangi. “Look at her, boiling away with Firebender rage. See if you can pull that off.” “I’m not doing anything,” Rangi protested. “This is my normal face.”
“You think you don’t deserve peace and happiness and good things, but you do!” Rangi yelled. “You, Kyoshi! Not the Avatar, but you!”
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.
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“Must have been nice,” Kirima said, barely able to contain her laughter. “Sleeping under the stars. Just two friends. Having a close, private moment of friendship.”
If this was what being true to herself felt like, she could never go back. Her heart was nestled somewhere above her in the nearest cloud. She wanted to scoop up Rangi in her arms and run, stepping higher and higher using that technique she still had to learn, until they found it.
“I like your focus,” Rangi said. “But see if you can withstand this.” She slid between Kyoshi’s arms and gave her a head-tilting, knee-buckling kiss, as powerful and deep as the ocean after a storm. Kyoshi’s eyes went wide before they shut forever. She sank into heavenly darkness. Her backbone turned to liquid. “Maintain,” Rangi murmured, her lips like a feather on Kyoshi’s before she attacked again, with added ferocity this time. Kyoshi never wanted the torment to end.
Each night, Kyoshi looked at the moon growing fuller, as if it were gorging on her dread.
“Exactly! Those who grow, live and die. The stagnant pool is immortal, while the clear flowing river dies an uncountable number of deaths.”
“I’m not thrilled you’re wearing daofei colors,” Rangi said, biting her lip as she smiled. “But you look beautiful.” “You look terrifying,” Lek added. A lifetime ago, Kyoshi had never thought she would be either of those things. “Then it’s perfect.”
“Please,” he said. “My father was governor before me. I just acted in accordance with what he taught me. Please!” That was all anyone in this world did. What they saw their predecessors and teachers do. The Avatar was not the only being who was part of an unbroken chain.
“Sorry,” she said. “But this is something I decided on, long before I laid eyes on you.” Kyoshi thrust an arm behind her and blasted Lao Ge down the tunnel with a ball of wind.
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.”
“You will never be perfectly fair, and you will never be truly correct,” Lao Ge said. “This is your burden.”
Nothing. All nothing compared to seeing his last friend in the world laid low. This sacrifice had been the hardest.
Like I once explained to a former pupil, strength is bending people to your will, not the elements.”
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.”
It seemed so bounded and finite. How could such a container have held the volume of her anguish, her wrath?
As much as Kyoshi wanted to stay with her, in a single, frozen pool of moments, the current carrying them forward was too strong.
