Avatar The Last Airbender: Water and Fire [ON HOLD]

Chapter 32 - Home

Home

A Walk Down Memory Lane

Riding my young Eelhound, I sought after my old home. The weather was good and I was following instructions on a map. We were on a small street, it was quiet and deserted. I don’t think anyone had used this road for years. It led to a house, standing alone on the top of a hill with a huge barn next to it. The property lay on the outskirts of the Fire National Capital, but the heart of the city was no more than a few minutes away. All around the property were tall walls of rock. A familiar sense of protection returned to me when I remembered how these walls had given us time to escape.

I looked around for a way inside, and found a gap where the gate had been. I gazed at it, grieving, as more memories returned. The soldiers had arrived outside and demanded that we surrendered. But we ignored them and continued to pack. When they became impatient, they began to take drastic actions. Soon, they had called over a Komodo-rhino, and it easily pulled the gate out of the wall. The soldiers flooded through, but by then we were gone.

My dad’s Eelhound climbed over the walls with no difficulty, landing gently on the other side and sprinting for miles without rest, until we were safe. They were amazing creatures, one that I owed part of my life to. I was proud and grateful that Azula had given one to me; one to call my own. I smiled to myself and patted my new friend. He closed his eyes contently as I rubbed his forehead. I dismounted and began making my way inside, with my Eelhound trailing closely behind.

The pavement was worn-down, looking more like a mosaic of scattered rocks instead of a path. Everywhere, the front yard was riddled with wicked weeds and wild grass. The flowers and bushes that once bloomed in the garden, filling it with colours and aromas, were long withered and forgotten. The fountain that stood in the centre of the front courtyard was no more than a static monument, filled with putrid water and mud. The trees that produced fruits no longer contained an air of magic. They were burned as the soldiers entered the property.

The door was like everything else; scorched, bashed, torn off its hinges and stepped on by hard heavy boots. I gestured for my Eelhound to wait outside. I approached the porch, staring into the dark void. Entering the house itself required a bit of bravery. It was a familiar structure, but it was masked by an eerie darkness. A cool breeze seemed to circulate through the hallways, sending a shiver through my spine. I stood in the doorway, looking all around, wondering where to start. I decided that I’d investigate downstairs first. I started walking straight ahead, towards the living area.

Amazingly it wasn’t really damaged; the rugs were eaten through by who knows what, and a few windows were smashed. But the chairs and tables were the same as I had remembered. A huge cabinet in the corner was supposed to showcase my father’s awards; medals and expensive gifts. But its drawers and doors hung limply open; it was empty. I suppose that either the soldiers had confiscated all the valuables, or some desperate thieves had made the most of this undefended house. I moved towards the windows and pulled the curtains apart. The heavy skin of dust on the material flaked off like snow. I ducked away quickly, holding my breath while trying to brush myself clean. Then, when I least expected it, I let out a loud sneeze! I took a handkerchief from my pocket and blew my nose, sniffling from the outburst. I sighed and moved on into the kitchen.

The kitchen was in a relatively similar state; some windows broken, some pots and utensils missing, floor boards infested, and a layer of dust on every surface. I wasn’t too surprised. The dining area next to the kitchen never had much in it; tables and chairs, that was all. And it was all gone. After all, the table and chairs were part of a set, passed down through the generations of our family when my dad’s forefathers started out as carpenters. Furniture that was carved from so long ago is rare in today’s age. The style itself was so authentic and unique; it was made only for the highest in society. The dining set had been with our family for so long. Where it was now, I didn’t know. I felt as though I had failed. I pulled more curtains apart – this time being more careful to avoid the bucketfuls of dust – and allowed the light to stream in.