Tanza
The moment she fell into that milk-drunk stupor, time lost all meaning. For weeks, Tanza drifted smoothly in and out of consciousness, her world reduced to a blur of cozy transitions. She would stir briefly to find herself cradled securely in Laya's arms, only to blink and awake inside the soft fabric of her wicker crib.
Other times, she floated awake to the rhythmic swaying of her mother's stride, snugly bundled against Laya's chest in a woven carrying sheet. Each brief awakening was a warm, hazy reassurance that she was safe, loved, and entirely protected by her mother.
As the months blurred together toward her first birthday, Tanza grew from a helpless infant into a curious toddler. She began crawling across the nursery, exploring the space Laya let her roam. Other baby girls her age played nearby, but Tanza's focus never lay with the brightly colored wooden blocks or standard toys.
Instead, she crawled herself to the nearest window, and sat against the sill. She lived for glimpses of the massive sky bison and the nomads soaring effortlessly on their gliders. Knowing she was an Airbender filled her with quiet anticipation, she knew what her future body would be capable of, and perhaps more, if she could master the deeper secrets of the wind.
Laya found endless amusement in this habit. Whenever Tanza migrated to the window, her mother simply smiled, sitting nearby to let her watch the sky in peace.
But as her first birthday approached, a subtle, melancholy shift settled over Laya. Her mother's tight embraces felt longer. Her soothing hums carried a faint, wistful edge.
Tanza was unsure why her mother was reacting in such a way, perhaps an old master of her's passed away, or something else that she does not know of yet. All she knew was something was changing for the relationship between Laya and her.
Then, Tanza realized one crisp morning. She was sitting on a woven mat, watching Laya meticulously fold a tiny set of orange and yellow robes, robes that were standard issue for the temple's communal nursery.
Finishing her chore, Laya knelt beside her and lifted Tanza into her lap. There were no tears in her mother's eyes yet, only a profound serenity that looked incredibly difficult to maintain.
"My sweet little breeze…" Laya whispered, her voice carrying a forlorn edge as she leaned down to press her forehead gently against Tanza's. "Your time with me is almost full. The elders and the master nuns are ready to guide your steps now."
Looking up into her mother's eyes, Tanza's adult mind pieced it all together. These Air Nomads truly were like the Shaolin monks of her old world. Mothers raised their babies until their first birthday before handing them over to the community, freeing them from the burdens of earthly attachment. 'Of course they have these detachment teachings here, too', she mused.
But despite her lifetime of spiritual training, Laya still possessed enough of a human heart to let a single tear slip down her cheek.
"To love you is to let you belong to the world, not just to me." Laya cooed softly with a softly grim smile, her voice trembling slightly before she caught herself. She smoothed down Tanza's wisps of hair. "For one beautiful year, you were my sky. Now, you belong to the wind."
Tanza, 19 BG
Leaving the nursery behind, Laya carried her up a flight of stairs and across an open stone walkway toward a neighboring inverted temple. There, an elderly woman stood waiting, her face creased with deep, defining wrinkles that crinkled into a kind smile as they approached.
Tanza, bundled snugly enough to keep her arms pinned against her chest, watched her mother's lip tremble. Laya took a steadying breath and began the ritual vow.
"From the wind we arrive, to the wind we give. I release my duty and earthly attachment to my daughter, now and until the end." Laya bowed her head as the elder gently took Tanza into the crook of her arm.
The old master smiled warmly down at the baby before looking up to meet Laya's eyes. "Go now, my child. Your daughter is with the wind. Be free of the earth, and master yourself within the gale." She rested Tanza securely against her side and offered Laya a comforting pat on the shoulder.
Laya let out a tiny hiccup. Glancing sideways, Tanza caught one final glimpse of her mother's bowed head and a stray tear splashing onto the stone. Then, with a sudden gust of breeze, or as Tanza knew it, Airbending, Laya leapt across the chasm to the neighboring temple and disappeared without looking back.
'Not the worst mother.' Tanza mused as the elderly woman shifted her into a more comfortable hold and shuffled inside. 'If anything, she simply follows the monk life I've been born into. Human emotions really are what cause us to falter from logic, even when trying to uphold a spiritual lifestyle.'
Yet, as the warmth of Laya's presence vanished, a sudden, violent ache flared in Tanza's chest. Her tiny heart began to hammer against her ribs. Tears, hot, involuntary, and entirely driven by infant biology, prickled at the corners of her eyes.
She clamped her jaw shut, furious at her own anatomy. Her adult mind knew this departure was reasonable for a monk lifestyle. But her primitive, one-year-old nervous system only knew one thing, the source of her food, warmth, and safety had just vanished across a canyon.
A small, pathetic whimper escaped her lips before she could stop it. 'Quiet!' she commanded her own brain, forcing her breathing to slow against her body's instinct to wail. 'It's just a reaction of this infant body of mine reacting to the loss of her! A cortisol spike! I am fine!'
The old lady caught the sound immediately. "Aw, there, there," she comforted, gently rubbing the small of Tanza's back. "Now come along, dear, let's get you some mashed beans for lunch!"
The elderly woman smiled down at her before focusing on the path ahead. The brief chemical spike soon vanished, allowing Tanza to collect herself and analyze her surroundings as she was carried deeper into the temple.
While they walked through the building, Tanza observed dozens of other elderly women caring for a sea of toddlers and infants. Her new life had officially begun.
As her temporary caretaker settled her into a child-sized wicker chair, Tanza continued to muse on a lingering thought. 'Here I am, being spoon-fed by a nun again... though this time, it's the monastery variety.'
Her aversion to religion was deeply layered, and the reasons behind her atheism made her look at this new environment skeptically. 'At least I'm not being raised by church nuns this time. If these monks share parallels with Taoism and Buddhism, then it's... not the worst.'
She watched as the elderly lady returned with a wooden bowl of mashed beans, a small spoon resting inside. 'If these monks share parallels with the Shaolin monks, this might actually work!' Tanza reasoned. Her new caretaker dragged a stool over, sat down, and began stirring the food. 'A church demands submission to a deity I cannot see. They want your blind obedience and your soul.'
The old woman smiled kindly. "Be a good girl and open up! Granny Pemi has some yummy beans," she cooed.
Tanza dutifully opened her mouth, swallowing the bland mash without complaint.
"That's a good Tanza!" Pemi praised.
Keeping herself from grimacing at the baby food, Tanza resumed her internal analysis while Pemi continued to spoon-feed her. 'But Shaolin? That is entirely about personal mastery! It is natural physics, kinetic efficiency, and physical conditioning. They don't want my blind faith, they want my discipline. In a system based on objective skill, I can actually thrive!'
Tanza
From her first birthday onward, Tanza pushed herself to become mobile as quickly as possible. While the other babies and toddlers contentedly rolled on the nursery floors, she forced her weak legs to stand. Fortunately for her, the massive nursery windows constantly let in heavy mountain breezes.
The caretakers constantly fussed over her, calling her a wondrous girl as she crawled and shakily walked toward the ledges to watch the flying bison and the older girls sweeping past on gliders. Granny Pemi wasn't her only handler; a rotating cast of elderly women including Paarru, Reshi, and Silon took turns watching over Tanza and her peers, ensuring the communal upbringing was shared equally.
Beyond mastering her own balance, Tanza focused entirely on the airbending she had discovered. The first time she intentionally summoned a breeze, she received warm praise from Reshi and amusement from Silon.
"Impatient one, that girl is, hehehe! The gale certainly runs wild in her!" were Paarru's exact words when she first witnessed Tanza's bending.
At the time, Tanza had been eyeing the hanging bamboo decor that dangled from the ceiling. To successfully airbend on purpose as she previously learned; first, relax and completely calm the mind. Next, fill her lungs with a deep inhale, finally, release a harsh, focused gale from her lips. Seeing the bamboo wind chimes clatter violently in response confirmed her success.
But that itself was simply the beginning, she wanted to know more and what else she could do with this airbending. The possibilities were numerous with what one can do with power over wind!
Throughout her first year, some of the elderly caretakers noticed how vastly different her nature was from the other toddlers. Tanza was always silent, perfectly willing to eat her meals, and went down for her naps and bedtime without a single tantrum.
While a few of the sisters looked concerned by this eerie compliance, most concluded that she simply possessed the deeply spiritual old soul of an advanced airbender.
The fact that the elderly ladies chalked her rapid progress up to spiritual maturity, allowing her to walk, talk, and airbend ahead of schedule, confirmed Tanza's suspicion that these monks believed in reincarnation. It didn't surprise her. After all, their aesthetic and philosophy felt entirely reminiscent of the Tibetan monks from her past life.
This realization would only assist her in future endeavors. On the plus side, she wouldn't have to work hard to mimic the clumsy ignorance of a normal child; she could simply act like herself and let them label her an old soul. This misunderstanding played entirely into her favor!
By the time she neared her second birthday, Tanza had mastered walking completely on her own. However, a few months prior to that milestone, a sudden physical failure had led to an accidental breakthrough.
She had been walking across the room when her wobbly toddler legs unexpectedly gave out beneath her. In a flash of panic, she instinctively swept her hands out in front of her. The movement triggered a sudden rush of air from her arms, creating a soft cushion of wind that completely caught her fall.
As she lay safely on the woven mat below, her eyes widened in a mix of wonder and victory.
'It's not just from the lungs,' she realized, staring at her tiny palms while she laid on her stomach. 'I can direct airbending through my limbs!'
This discovery solidified her theory. If airbending could be channeled through bodily movements, these monks must possess specialized fighting or martial styles designed around the element. It was the only logical conclusion.
But while she laid there on her stomach stewing over her own thoughts, A soft, sharp gasp broke the silence of the room.
Tanza looked up. Granny Pemi stood a few paces away, a wooden bowl clutched tightly to her chest. Her wrinkled face was frozen in absolute shock, her wide eyes darting from Tanza's hands to the slightly disturbed fibers of the woven mat.
For a second, Pemi just stared. Then, she slowly set the bowl aside and dropped to her knees, shuffling over to Tanza. Instead of picking her up like a helpless infant, Pemi gently took Tanza's tiny hands in her own, her fingers trembling slightly with reverence.
"The wind truly watches over you, little one." Pemi whispered, her voice thick with wonder. She pressed her palms together and bowed her head slightly to the toddler. "Your spirit remembers what your young body has forgotten."
Coming out of her shock, Pemi smiled warmly, lifted Tanza onto her feet, and stabilized her balance. "Now go on, let those legs of yours walk, young one! Granny Pemi needs to look over the others." She patted Tanza's cheek affectionately before shuffling off to tend to the other children.
As Tanza watched Pemi leave her to her own devices, she felt a profound sense of relief. She was internally glad that circumstances had landed her in a monastic community. Having to forcefully act like an ignorant, fragile child had been utterly infuriating. Now, her path was clear.
Tanza, 18 BG, two years old
Leaving the indoor nursery behind was the first real victory of her new life. By her second birthday, Tanza had graduated to the temple's outer terraces, massive, open-air platforms carved directly into the mountain peak, bordered by thick, wind-weathered stone railings.
As she walked up to the edge of the platform, her tiny hands gripped the cool stone of the railing. For the first time, she could see the bigger picture of where she was.
The sheer scale of the Eastern Air Temple stretched out before her analytical gaze. Inverted spires clung to the undersides of the cliffs like massive, architectural stalactites, defying gravity through pure design. The canyon below was a vast, swirling abyss of mountain fog, and the air up here was thin, crisp, and fiercely alive.
Above her, older girls sliced through the thermal currents on wooden gliders, their flight paths seamlessly carried by a combination of natural wind and precise airbending. All the while, massive sky bison drifted lazily between the spires, their heavy tails slowly padding the atmosphere as they navigated the open sky.
'From one life with mages, to a different world altogether with flying beasts...' Tanza noted. The fact that the bison possessed six legs left her to ponder what other strange and illogical fauna existed across this globe.
In a traditional church setting, she would be trapped in a dark pew, listening to a sermon about things she couldn't see. Here, the power was raw, visible, and completely objective. She breathed in the mountain draft, feeling the energy of the wind dancing against her skin. She didn't need faith. She just needed to master the 'how' of the gale.
As if answering her thought, a sudden, high-pitched chatter echoed from the stone railing just a few inches from her hand.
Tanza tilted her head. Perched on the edge of the precipice was a small, agile creature. It had huge, intelligent green eyes, oversized ears, and a long, ringed tail. The most jarring feature, however, was the dark, leather-like membrane stretching from its wrists down to its ankles, literal wings attached to its arms.
'Lemur?' Tanza questioned herself as she locked eyes with it. "Flying Lemur?" she quietly corrected herself aloud, testing her toddler vocal cords.
She watched the animal lift its arm and casually clean its wing with its tongue. 'A mammalian hybrid!' Tanza's brain immediately put together, watching the creature stretch its wings. 'Part primate, part bat!'
The lemur let out a soft trill and hopped closer, entirely unafraid of her. It sniffed her hand once, locked its curious, wide eyes onto hers, and then leapt off the railing, instantly catching an updraft and gliding away through the open air.
A small, rare smile crept onto Tanza's lips. Hopefully, she could figure out her own method of flight soon, whether with a traditional glider or an entirely new method. She had always craved the rush of flying during her years as a mage soldier.
The raw adrenaline, the absolute freedom of the atmosphere, the tactical advantage of air superiority, she missed everything about it. In her past life, mankind had always dreamed of conquering the skies. She couldn't deny that she had deeply enjoyed soaring through the clouds without the clunky assistance of an airplane, relying only on her own body and a computational orb.
But here, she had something even better. She didn't need artificial technology anymore. She had the living element of airbending right at her fingertips, waiting to be completely mastered.
Tanza shifted her gaze across the vast canyon chasm. On a distant, sun-baked stone platform jutting out from a neighboring spire, a group of senior female monks were gathered in a wide circle.
They were training. Unlike the playful initiates in the nursery, these women moved with synchronized, absolute grace and footwork. Tanza watched it all, her eyes tracking the sharp, rhythmic steps of their footwork. They glided across the stone platform in circular patterns, their hands carving fluid arcs through the air, followed by sudden, sharp extensions of their legs.
With every collective twist of their bodies, Tanza could see the air distorting around them, sending visible ripples of compressed wind slicing across the terrace.
These monk nuns do indeed share enough with Shaolin fighting style, it proved to her that she wouldn't have to suffer as bad as in a church and hear the droning on nonsense about some higher power that she refused to submit to. 'Their fluid movement reflects enough to allow it to be paired with airbending!'
By the looks of how they twisted their bodies and danced with the wind, their techniques allowed them to gather wind at focal points and in broad strokes of air.
She looked down at her own tiny, two-year-old hands. Her body was still far too small to replicate those massive, sweeping forms. But she didn't need a large body to start practicing the footwork.
Looking back out toward the distant terrace, her mind locked onto the repetitive motions of the older girls. Footwork was clearly the foundation of their airbending. As key evidence of this, she watched one girl shift effortlessly from using her hands to executing a series of precise kicks and rolling flips. The momentum compounded her bending, compressing the atmosphere into a tight ball of air before she unleashed it as a roaring blast of gale force.
Tanza certainly couldn't attempt any of that advanced acrobatics just yet, but it wouldn't hurt to memorize the movements and practice the basics.
As such, she parted from the stone railing and remembered some of the brief footwork she saw one of the girls perform. The girl was idling while the other girls used the main floor while she waited her turn.
Stepping away from the stone railing, she focused her memory on a much simpler sequence. She had spotted one of the older girls idling at the edge of the terrace, quietly rehearsing her basic steps while waiting for her turn on the main floor.
Before she began her mimicry of what she saw, she looked up to see the other toddlers.
Unlike Tanza, who stood alone, the other two-year-olds were acting exactly like the children they were. A few of them were chasing hollow, woven wicker balls stuffed with bright feathers, giggling hysterically whenever their uncoordinated movements triggered accidental bursts of air. One clumsy girl stumbled, throwing her hands out instinctively; a sudden, chaotic pop of wind shot from his palms, sending his wicker ball bouncing wildly off a stone pillar.
Nearby, two girls were running in circles with wooden rings attached to long silk ribbons. When they laughed, tiny, uncontrolled drafts swirled around them, making the colorful fabric dance and loop in the air like living ribbons of wind. Over by the doorway, another toddler sneezed, accidentally blasting a small wooden pinwheel in his hand so fast it became a blurry streak of color before flying right out of his grip.
Tanza caught herself trading glances with one of the elderly caretakers. Granny Pemi was sitting nearby in a wicker chair, watching her with a warm, simple smile. She had a knowing look in her eyes, having watched Tanza mind her own business to explore the terrace and study the older girls practicing on the opposite peak.
Pemi let out a weathered, grandmotherly chuckle. "See something interesting out there, little Tanza?"
Already familiar with the way the nuns attributed her quiet nature to an enlightened wind spirit, Tanza simply offered the old woman a slow, wise-looking nod. It was enough to satisfy the caretaker. Turning away, Tanza immediately refocused her attention back on herself.
Recalling how the idling girl had used her foot to conjure a draft, Tanza lifted her leg and gently swung it in a smooth arc, as if rolling an invisible ball beneath her sole. She made sure to completely relax her mind, maintaining just enough physical tension to keep her fragile toddler balance from collapsing. Channeling her energy, she let the airbending flow down her leg to gather right beneath her foot.
Within a few seconds, a small, excited grin of victory appeared on her face. A miniature sphere of compressed air was visibly molding beneath her toes. With a sharp snap, she kicked it forward, unleashing a tiny but distinct gust of wind across the stone platform.
'Success!' she cheered internally.
The tiny pocket of air she kicked didn't travel far, but it slammed directly into a small stack of empty wicker baskets near the railing, sending them rattling across the stone floor with a sharp clack.
The sudden noise instantly shattered the playful peace of the terrace.
A few paces away, three toddler girls froze mid-play. One of them dropped her feathered chime ball entirely, her mouth hanging open as her wide, curious eyes darted from the rolling baskets back to Tanza's still-raised leg. To a normal two-year-old brain, this wasn't an exercise in centripetal acceleration, it was a magical trick.
"Tanza fly!" one of the little girls babbled, pointing a chubby, sticky finger at her.
Instantly, the trio abandoned their toys and began waddling over to her corner of the deck, their uncoordinated footsteps slapping loudly against the stone. Before Tanza could reset her martial stance, the girls completely swarmed her, getting entirely too close to her face. Inspired by what they had just seen, they began clumsily lifting their own legs, swinging their limbs wildly and tripping over one another in a pathetic attempt to mimic her kick.
'Imbeciles…' Tanza thought, her victorious grin falling to a grimace as she caught a flailing toddler arm to help the girl from falling. 'They are like moths to a flame. I destroy my own solitude the moment I demonstrate even a fraction of skill.'
From her wicker chair, Granny Pemi let out a loud, weathered chuckle that crinkled the deep lines around her eyes. She rested her chin in her hand, thoroughly entertained by the sudden, clumsy chaos unfolding in the corner.
"Oh, look at that," Pemi called out, her voice warm and teasing. "It seems you've gathered a following, little Tanza. The gentle draft always draws the leaves together."
The other caretakers, Reshi and Silon, looked over from the doorway, smiling fondly as the three toddlers continued to tumble over their own feet in an effort to copy Tanza's stance.
Pemi gave Tanza a reassuring nod. "Do not be vexed by the storm around you, young one. A true master of the wind learns to find their center, even when the breeze gets a little crowded."
Tanza kept her expression perfectly flat, but her analytical mind seized the old woman's words. 'Find my center when the breeze is crowded...'
She looked at the bumbling toddlers around her. Pemi meant it as a simple lesson in spiritual patience, but Tanza recognized it as a genuinely worthwhile piece of knowledge. It bled perfectly into the core of this monk culture, their unique way with words and their methods of teaching. She could use it. It wasn't just a moral lesson, it was a lesson for maintaining focus under pressure.
Before the flailing crowd of toddlers could completely throw Tanza off her balance, Sister Silon stepped onto the stone terrace, holding a woven basket filled with colorful silk streamers.
"My, my! Look at all these little storms brewing out here!" Silon called out, her voice bright and full of amusement as she took in the sight of the children clumsily copying Tanza's kick.
Silon didn't try to stop them or make them sit down. Instead, she immediately adapted to their chaotic energy. Walking right into the center of the swarm, she knelt down and pulled out several silk ribbons, handing them to the toddlers who had been crowding Tanza.
"If you want your feet to dance like Tanza's, you must first let the wind carry your arms!" Silon instructed gently. She swept her own arm in a slow, dramatic circle, causing the ribbons in her hand to loop gracefully through the air. "See? Follow the circle. Swirl like the breeze!"
Entranced by the bright colors, the bumbling toddlers instantly shifted their attention away from Tanza. They began waving their ribbons, giggling as they tried to replicate Silon's circular sweeping patterns.
Tanza stepped back into the shadows of the stone railing, her dark eyes narrowing as she watched Silon manage the crowd. 'Fascinating!' she thought, analyzing the interaction. 'She isn't teaching them martial arts mechanics yet. She is preparing their muscle memory. She is gamifying the basic circular motions of airbending forms so that when they are older, their airbending will already feel natural to their bodies!'
It was brilliant and disguised as child's play. Tanza took a deep breath, entirely grateful for her regained solitude.
But as she turned to mind her own business once more and practice the idling girl's footwork, her gaze caught someone she had not seen since the day she was handed off to the elders. Out on a distant terrace, a group of young women flew in on a sky bison. Among them was her mother, Laya.
A small part of her felt a pang of recognition, but she immediately quashed it. She was two years old now, no longer a helpless infant subject to involuntary chemical panic. She had full control over her body.
As Laya bounded off the large saddle with a graceful gust of wind and landed perfectly, she began chatting animatedly with her friends. Then, her eyes strayed across the canyon, locking directly onto Tanza.
Laya instantly froze, the lively conversation dying on her lips. Her friend quickly noticed the sudden silence and tracked Laya's gaze across the chasm. Spotting the toddler, the friend gently but firmly grabbed Laya's shoulder, pulling her around to break the eye contact and redirect her attention away from Tanza.
That brief, heavy trading of gazes left Tanza with a clear realization: her mother felt the lingering ache of attachment too, but was doing her absolute best to ignore it with the help of her peers.
'It is for the best anyway,' Tanza supposed, turning back to her empty corner of the stone deck. Her mother had fulfilled her biological duty and transferred her to the community. She had sacrificed a period of her life to nurture the next generation, and now she was free to pursue mastery in her own right.
Such was the ruthless, efficient reality of a Shaolin-like monk culture.