He released his arms, letting them sag to his sides, as he dropped back to level ground. As his feet returned to solid ground, he spun around, the soles of his feet pushing through the dirt. He raised his thigh up and kicked into the ground, another boulder rising from it. He lowered his body and pushed his foot upward into the stone, shattering it. He slumped to the ground, pulling up earth from behind him, creating a wall. Leaning back, he raised his forearm to wipe the sweat dripping from his hairline, dropping it again to rub the soles of his feet. His feet ached, but he knew that to become a better earthbender, like Sifu Toph, he needed to learn how listen. How to see with his feet. She was blind and she was the greatest earthbender of her generation.

He glanced around. Taking in the appearance of his home. The lavish garden surrounded by tall walls. One of the many guards, his many minders, approached him, making a small “Hmmf” when Blaine did not acknowledge him. Blaine turned, producing a look even the Avatar would turn away from.

“Yes?” he said belligerently, turning back, pushing his foot down pound small rocks at the wall facing him. The guard walked in front of him, taking a stone to the chest. “Your father wants to see you in the living room.”

Blaine remained seated, curving rocks around the guard. “And try not to keep him waiting.” He got up, and begun moving slowly towards the house. What did he want this time? Another lecture about how he is a disappointment, blah blah blah. If this was another one of his political nonsense lectures, Blaine was out of there.

He entered the room, bowing to his father, who was perched on the over extravagant throne, placed against the wall facing the sliding doors Blaine had just walked through. Two other men joined him in the room, both clad in what looked like Old Earth Kingdom uniform. He hadn’t seen these since before the war ended, 8 years ago. Two guards also followed the men into the room.

“Blaine, welcome the men behind you, they are of great importance.” Blaine turned, and bowed, taking in the two men. One was tall and slender, with jet black hair, the other, broad and muscular. They bowed in return, also eyeing the curly haired boy before them. Blaine was still confused why he was asked here.

“These men are part of a group of frontrunners in the Earth Kingdom Revival. It is my wish for you to join them. You are a competent young earthbender, and your skills are needed, Son.” Blaine’s father looked down at him, almost pleading with his son to not disappoint him.

So, this was another one of his father’s political schemes. “What do you mean by ‘Earth Kingdom Revival’? What is this all about?” Blaine questioned. His father stirred in his seat, uncomfortably. He sensed the tall, black haired man nod behind him, towards his father, willing him to go on.

“There is a movement,” again, he shifted uncomfortably, “Lets call it Revivalism-that is fighting for the Earth Kingdom’s former glory to be returned. It cant be denied that the Avatar has done great wonders for the four nations, but if anything, he has created a nation that has no elitism. We aim to change this.” At this, the stockier of the two gentlemen scoffed. His father finished by glancing at the so-called Revivalists behind him, who in turn glanced at the two guards present.

Blaine spoke out defiantly. “No! You can’t. The Avatar brought peace. This can only end in war.”

Before Blaine could turn around to leave the room, metal cuffs were binding his wrists, arms wrenched behind his back. He struggled, forcing out a confused yell. His father had known he would not cooperate, that is why the guards were there. He was going to join, whether he wanted to or not. He was pushed to the ground, his knees crushing into the cold marble slabs which lined the floor of the room. The cold sting of metal hit his face as one of the guards slapped his face, with the armour surrounding his fist. Blood began to slide down his cheek, as the metal armour tore gashes into his face. A strangled feral moan curled out of his throat.

Blaine thrashed his legs upwards, aiming for the guard nearest him. Losing all momentum, his feet slammed into the guards chest. The guard staggered. Blaine screamed in agony as the guards encased his hands in metallic gloves, preventing any attempt at earthbending, and he was dragged out of the room and into the hallway, pulling away violently. As the coppery amalgamation of tears and blood ran into his gaping mouth, he spat at the two Revivalists, deep red liquid spluttering out of Blaine’s mouth, seeping through his bared teeth and trickling over his lips, falling onto the pale white marble stones beneath him.

Turning towards the door, the guards pulled him through the door roughly. Blaine thrashed wildly, in attempt at escape, but to no prevail, got nowhere. The guard grasping the left side of his body took a swing at him, his armoured fist crashing into Blaine’s temple, causing a blinding pain to rush past Blaine’s eyes. Another jab to the temple and he was plunged into unconsciousness. His limp body was tossed casually on to the back of a cart pulled by two ostrich horses.

---------------

The cart jostled violently, waking Blaine. He was still bound behind his back, unable to reach up at the throbbing pain in his forehead and cheek. His face smeared with his own blood and the dust from the floor of the cart. Pain tore through his cheek as he rubbed his face against the wooden panels of the cart. He lifted his head, peering over the side of the cart. The guards held the reigns of the two ostrich horses tightly, Blaine noted this as a weakness. He could escape. He could roll out of the cart. No, how would he hoist himself over the edge of the cart by simply rolling? How could he get out of the restraints?

If he was going to try, the moment was now. He took a fleeting glance at the guards as he pushed his body up and jumped to his feet swiftly. He gathered his composure and adjusted to the constant swaying of the cart, staggering to the back of the cart. He steadied himself and jumped upward, flipping his body forward and pulling his legs over himself. He landed with a quiet thud, dust from the road billowing around his bare feet.

Although he couldn’t use his hands, he scooped his foot around to right, bringing it forward, facing the cart traveling slowly away from him. He closed his eyes, pulling his foot back, thrusting forwards again, pushing the earth beneath him forwards, pummeling towards the cart. He opened his eyes quick enough to see the two ostrich horses collapse, with the guards failing to remain upright.

The path they had been moving down was surrounded by a forest with a slight hill to his left, and a drop to his right. He ran towards the drop and threw himself of the ledge, falling and tumbling down on the slight slope. Although he was getting away, he still had no idea how he was going to get out of his restraints, and eventually the guards would catch up with him. He continued to roll, stopping himself by pressing into the leaf sodden ground with his foot, the muscles in his thigh tensing. He bounded forward, breaking into a steady run, branches whipping at his exposed shoulders and forearms. He quickly dashed through the maze of tall trees, falling out into a clearing.

He took a moment to survey his surroundings. He could hear the disgruntled sounds of the guards, pushing through the foliage violently. He could also hear the distant sounds of splashing. He could see the river, but not the source of the splashing. He walked quickly out, nearer to the river, looking to his left, then to his right, suddenly seeing the source of the sound. He gazed over to the river, where a man, around his age was submerged, waist deep in the hazy blue water. The man flicked his arms forward, turning his body around gracefully, seamlessly pulling a stream of water out of the river, curling it around his bare torso. His hands moved slowly around the tube, compressing it, his arms rising over his head, twisting his arms intricately, his broad shoulders tensing. Gliding forward, his body shifted, moving around to whip the water outwards. His chestnut brown hair hanging low over his eyes, wet from the river.

Fully captivated by the mysterious waterbender, Blaine had failed to gauge the proximity of the two guards approaching quickly. The sound of foliage crunching beneath the solid boots of the guards snapped him back into reality.

“Help! Help!” Blaine cried out to the man, running closer, nearing the river bank. The man snapped up his head, his hair elegantly sliding out of his eyesight, returning the water whip to the river with a “Slap!” Now that Blaine was closer, he could see the deep blue of the man’s eyes, ripples shimmering from the light of the sun reflecting off of the river. He surveyed his face, feeling his stomach pull tightly as he took in the colour of the man’s alabaster skin. He looked up, noticing a small cut on his left eyebrow, surrounded by a purple smudge. The man gasped, taking in the pained and desperate expression on Blaine’s face.

“I need you to help! There are men after me. I have to get to Republic City.” Blaine cried, pleading with the man. The man looked taken aback, confused. He did not want to help Blaine.

“How do I know you’re not dangerous? A prisoner?” He said pointedly, raising his arms, pulling another stream of water from the river, as before. However, this time with more force, pushing towards Blaine’s chest, but stopping short of making any contact. He was armed. He was defenseless against him. He could earthbend, but not efficiently enough to get away unscathed if things took a turn for the worse.

“You don’t. You have to trust me. Can you brake the bonds? I will explain when it is safe, I need to get out of here.” Blaine said hurriedly, panting. Regretting asking, he asked himself sarcastically “I could always try metalbending.” Only Sifu Toph was that skilled.

“God! What am I doing?” the man questioned, as he motioned for Blaine to turn around. “This might not work, but I’ll give it a shot.” There was something about his voice that Blaine couldn’t read. It was higher than his own, but remained defiant. He smiled graciously as he turned, unable to feign the relief once the stream of water was whipped away from him, and around the man’s hands. Suddenly, his own hands were surrounded, by the other man’s, with a feeling of intense cold, wrapping around the metal gloves tightly, pushing outwards. He felt the man compress his hands tighter, as they became frozen solid. They sagged down, becoming too heavy for Blaine to hold up. His wrists were encased now, ice pushing up against the metal of the braces, wiling them to break.

The sounds of the guards drew nearer, as Blaine thought “God! We are running out of time!” The first guard pummelled into the clearing. Noticing Blaine, he shouted, “Stop! Your father will not be happy about this! He is paying us a great deal to hand you over to the Revivalists!” Then he felt it. Release. His hands broke free from the ice, the metal bonds snapping loose, and clinking to the ground as the man slumped into the water, exhausted.

“GUH! MY FATHER? He is never happy!” bellowed Blaine in disgust, pulling his forearms backwards to his chest, sliding his right foot across the ground in front of him, pushing the dirt upwards. He stretched his right arm outwards, the muscles in his shoulders tensing and seizing. The ground rumbled beneath him. With a final leap forward, landing in the same position as before, he kicked his right leg down, pounding into the earth, extending his right arm forward, pounding his fist into the newly freed boulder levitating in the air. Blaine propelled the boulder into the first guard’s chest, knocking him down, hopefully unconscious.

The waterbender pulled his body swiftly forward, his arms rising upwards as a jet of water streamed out of the river. He twirled his body around in the river, his hands and arms quickly raising over his head. He flicked himself forward, the water turning to icy shards, which flew towards the second guard, slicing through his armour and piercing his skin.

Blaine looked to the man, breathing heavily. “Are you coming with me or not?” Blaine questioned, not knowing quite why he was asking the stranger to come with him. But he had helped him, surely that meant something. He did not reply, but offered his hand to Blaine. He grasped firmly at it, pulling him out of the water. The man dropped down, grabbing a bag. How did Blaine not notice that before? They began to run to the left of the clearing, back into the forest, hands firmly grasped together.

“I’m Kurt, by the way.” The man said breathlessly.

“Blaine.”