HERE STANDS ROUYI UO OF THE SOUTHERN WATER TRIBE, TWENTY THREE YEARS OLD AND THE SECOND BORN OF JANGBU UO
uo houses the best. longstanding prestige. warriors of the southern tribe. that much has always been known to be true through many different chiefs. and stands to remain true for centuries to come.
so far.
rouyi is born on the darkest of nights, 23rd of december, a babe so chillingly silent that her mother feared a passing spirit had stolen her soul.
(unlikely so, but with each passing second a mother’s sanity wanes.)
she takes her first breath two minutes after birth.
rouyi uo, slower than average, a reoccurring theme throughout life.
this is proven true when age seven hits and she could bend as little as a drop of sweat off her private teacher’s forehead.
same again and again.
ten and twelve.
a crushing feeling (a nonbender?) that taints the legacy. demotes her to decoupage to the name; flower without a scent. a descendant of warriors that cannot bend. humiliating.
in all honesty, it leaves her nothing short of broken.
mother prays for reprieve. late in the night, with a red hot sting on her cheek, she leaves with rouyi in hand. traveling up north to their sister tribe in vain attempts to seek help. penance for unknown sins.
she takes her to the moon and ocean spirits and pleads her case for days.
(rouyi watches from behind, mother’s hands raw and forehead red, and spits on the spirits for the neglect. father for the nerve.)
thirteen.
it’s ironic. the year she’s given up on the notion is the year her body blossoms, the year water in mother’s favorite vase freezes around her. the year they finally return to the southern tribe.
(don’t be mistaken. pardon is only granted because of her newfound ability to bend.)
the southern tribes hasn’t catastrophically changed in the year she’s been gone. only that her siblings are different. her friends are different. none of which rouyi has the time or mental capacity to worry about before being thrown into training.
(ten years isn’t a small amount to make up for.)
twenty and so on.
there is a significant difference she’ll never get used to. a laughable gap even all these years, that’ll continue to baffle her so, the difference between a bender and a nonbender. to be useful in the eyes of father than naught.
it didn’t matter that rouyi’s mastered the art, that she’s caught up to her siblings, that she’s garnered praise from her father and other warriors in the tribe. recognition that she deserves. nothing matters past year twelve.
anything she does now is for the sake of her mother.
to hell with the rest of them.