Book of Blood part 1

The night was cold and the air was dry. A cloud of breath fogged the air before Tahno’s face. He took one look back at the village he had grown up in. The village that he had called home. The village that was now casting him out. An entourage of the village’s best warriors had been brought to escort him to the edge of the village, where he would be exiled into the cold wasteland of the antarctic. He looked at them now, with their faces wrought with fear and revulsion. There was Kassuq, who had hunted the wolf that Tahno now wore to keep out the cold. And there was Mo-Lee, who had once asked him to dance. They were regretting their kindness now. Now that they knew who he really was. He took one last look, then turned his back on them. He headed straight for the wasteland, without fear. This was the villager’s last chance to accept him, and welcome him back. But no such cry came. No shout to return, that it had all been a misunderstanding. They were silent and convicted, and so was he. 

Tahno had expected this. He might have even, deep down, wanted this. He was done living in fear. Living with the lies, and silent nights, and the strange hunts. He was finally ready to show the whole world what a true southern waterbender could do. He smiled. The village was far enough away now that he could no longer see the light from the torches, in the return the moon had lit up the way now, assisted by the stars. He knew where he was going, but he didn’t want the village to know, not yet. As he made his way forward, he used waterbending to obscure the tracks made in the snow. No villager would be able to track him, not even the best among them would think anything other than he had simply vanished into thin air. 

It was several hours before he finally came across his destination. It was another village, but this one was not known to any of the elders of the southern water tribe. It was as unmarked as you could get, easily able to be torn down in the night and relocated somewhere else entirely if the situation demanded it. He had known of this village for a long time, and had been planning on running away to it at some point, though the villagers of his old village had certainly hastened that along. These new villagers didn’t know him though, but that was good. Had word gotten around of what he really was, then opinions might have been formed without his knowledge or input. 

He recognised the signs that he was being watched, presumably by a sentry of some kind, but made no effort to conceal himself from whatever eyes might be following him. He wanted them to know about him. Wanted them to be weary, cautious, and maybe, even, slightly scared. 

“Halt!” Came a man’s voice. He was wearing a thick set of clothes that protected him from the extreme cold, and also obscured his face. He was carrying a bow and arrows, and already had one arrow nocked in the bow. It was little more than a hunting bow, but at this range it could still injure him and then they could finish him off with their axes. “Come no further!” He cried again, though he was backing up as Tahno walked forwards. In an instant, Tahno had dropped his pack and waterbended the ice below them, trapping the guard in a wave of ice. He had not been fast enough to stop the guard from loosing an arrow though, as he saw one stuck in the ice when he walked past the guard into the village. 

Some more villagers had surrounded him now, looking shabby, but deadly. Most brandished clubs, or readied themselves in weak waterbending stances. But one, Tahno noticed, wielded a metal sword. Such a sword could not have been native to the southern water tribe, and it was probably stolen. The man holding the sword did not appear to know how to use it correctly either, as it was clearly meant to stabbing your opponent, but the man held it like he was going to slash with it. A female waterbender stepped forward and pushed a wave of ice towards him, but Tahno simply redirected it back towards and the woman, clearly unable to defend herself, was knocked down by the ice. If this display had caused others to waiver in their convictions, they did not show it. Two men with clubs ran towards him, but he brought up a wall of water and froze the two solid before they realised what had happened. Lastly the man with the sword attacked, and as Tahno had guessed, swung wildly with it. Tahno easily dodged the haphazard slashes, and elegantly froze the man in such a way that the sword ended up sticking right out of the top. He pried the man’s fingers off the handle of the sword, and held it himself. It was surprisingly well balanced, and more curiously, it had water tribe markings on it. Perhaps it was meant as a gift from a visiting earth kingdom dignitary. Whatever the sword’s unusual provenance, it’s blued blade and markings made Tahno feel as though he had just gained dominion over the whole of the antarctic. The other villagers clearly felt intimidated by him now, and Tahno felt that the time was right to say his piece. 

“People! You are downtrodden and weak! If I can best you, what hope do you have when a hunting party arrives! But fear not, I can teach you. Teach you to be better waterbenders,” he indicated towards the woman that was frozen in her own ice, “and teach you to be better soldiers!” he indicated towards the club wielding men. “I can teach you how to rule. All I ask is that you rule in my name, and follow me with unwavering loyalty! I can lead you to greatness!” At this he caused all the ice he had created and trapped people in to melt, letting the people free. They made their way towards him, tentatively and wordlessly. Tahno knew what needed to be done. He looked for the most rebellious of the bunch, a boy who was clearly a waterbender. Tahno stuck his sword into the ground, then readied his stance. He reached out, and grabbed the boy by the blood. The boy began to writhe and make sounds of anguish, but Tahno ignored this and drew the boy closer to him. The infernal puppetry made the boy go forwards, until he was right in front of Tahno and the sword. Then, Tahno made the boy pick up the sword and stab himself through the heart. It was quiet, as Tahno had not let the boy scream, but his face showed agony that none had experienced before. Tahno drew the sword out of the boy, with a sound not dissimilar to that of skinning a wolf. The boy dropped, his clothes becoming stained with his own blood and when the fur had absorbed all it could, then a small pool of it began to collect on the ice below him. 

“Bloodbending!” Tahno cried to the astonished crowd. “The most noble art of the southern water tribe. I was cast out for practising this ancient art, but we will show them how wrong that was. I will teach you, and in return, march with me!” 

There was a cheer when Tahno had finished his speech, though the cheer quickly turned into a war cry. 

“My friends,” Tahno cried, waving for silence with his arms, “We must rest today, for tomorrow night we conquer!”