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Kindle Notes & Highlights
by
F.C. Yee
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February 25 - February 28, 2024
Like a certain friend of theirs from the Water Tribe always said, it was better to ask for forgiveness than wait for permission. And as far as Jianzhu was concerned, the time for waiting had long since passed.
Earth Avatars were traditionally identified by directional geomancy, a series of rituals designed to winnow through the largest and most populous of the Four Nations as efficiently as possible.
“What you do when no one is guiding you determines who you are,” Hei-Ran said. The motto was probably engraved over a door somewhere in the Fire Academy. “The results of your training are far less important than your attitude toward training.”
the Water Avatar had been unable to translate his personal talents into effective leadership on the world stage. He’d squandered his time, pursuing pleasures around the Four Nations, and died early.
About the only things Kyoshi hated more than gunk on her skin were the warped, infuriating values that older folks like Auntie Mui held around complexion. It was yet another contradiction of the village, that you should make an honest living toiling under the sun but never in the slightest look like it. In the game of rural Yokoyan beauty standards, Kyoshi had lost that particular round. Among others.
“I visited consequences upon them,” Jianzhu said. “Because that’s what justice is. Nothing but the proper consequences. I made it clear that whatever horrors they inflicted would come back to haunt them, no more, no less. And guess what? It worked. The remnants of the daofei that escaped me dispersed into the countryside because at last they knew there would be consequences if they continued down their outlaw path.” Jianzhu glanced at the exit, in the direction Tagaka had gone. “Perhaps the reason you’ve never heard about this from decent citizens of the Earth Kingdom is because they see it
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“We perform this test on newborns in the Fire Nation to see if they’re capable of firebending,” Hei-Ran said. “We have to know about our children quick, as you can imagine, or else they risk burning the neighborhood down.”
Inside were two ornate metal war fans the color of gold alloyed with bronze. The weapons were packed in a softer wood frame that held them open while protecting them from rough treatment like the sort she’d just doled out.
“Nope!” Kirima said, regretting she’d asked. “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.”
“Both sides” was a rhetorical weapon used by hypocrites and the ignorant.
“Never wait to find out what the trouble is,” Wong said, already jogging away from the source. “By then, you’re already too close.”
“Supposedly it can track its quarry across stone, water, dirt, thin air. In the old days, Earth Kings would use them to execute their political enemies. For the traitor, let them be hounded by shirshu until they drop where they stand, far from their homes and the bones of their ancestors.”
“He was an ancient philosopher, a contemporary of Laghima’s. Not as popular though. He had a proverb: ‘If you meet the spirit of enlightenment on the road, slay it!’” She wrinkled her brow. “I can see why he’s not popular.” “Yes, he was considered heretical by some. But wise by others. One interpretation of that particular saying is that you cannot be bound by petty concerns on your personal journey. You must walk with a singular purpose. The judgment of others, no matter how horrific or criminal they label your actions, must hold no meaning to you.”
He lowered his stance, shook his waist, and whirled his arms. From base to top, every stone he could see violently sprouted thin spikes the size of jians, like they’d instantly transformed into the same species of Si Wong cactus. He heard more screams from the archers who remained hidden in their cover behind the rocks.
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.
“That’s where you’re wrong. 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.”
“That’s all right,” she said. “I doubt I’ll be bothering the Chins again anytime soon. Is that the last of the news?”
