93 years after the genocide of the Air Nomads.
A small women's monastery, located near the northwestern coast of the Earth Kingdom.
"Ah, right there, mm, just a bit to the left—I've never felt anything like this before," I moaned in bliss as the skilled hands of a nun worked wonders on my back. I'm not one to hide my feelings, so all my comments were voiced aloud, causing the other nuns to blush and giggle.
"What are you doing here, you scoundrel? Seducing my girls?" boomed the stern voice of the head abbess of this small monastery.
"Just giving well-deserved compliments to the golden hands of your apprentice, abbess," I replied, in high spirits. "And why have you been hiding such a treasure? I've been coming here for spirits for a year and a half, and only today did you offer me a massage," I continued, now slightly offended that I hadn't experienced this sooner. No Thai or Qigong massage could compare.
"Only the most deserving customers get this treatment, be proud, 'just a traveling Earth Kingdom earthbender named Roku,'" she said sarcastically, emphasizing the most implausible part, making my ears turn red.
I'm just not good at coming up with names! In a few months, you can't understand how the people of this land live, their quirks, and the small details everyone knows but no one talks about. Of course, these minor differences gave me away as an outsider, but the abbess didn't press the issue. As long as I'm not causing trouble and I'm paying, it's fine.
I found this place entirely by accident while exploring the Earth Kingdom. This neutral monastery's main income comes from selling perfumes and ointments, which are in high demand across the nearby provinces. All the women in my circle were captivated by the fragrances made here, so I often return for new scents.
The provinces are like states within a state. In the early days of the unified Earth Kingdom, each province had its own ruler, its own laws, and its own order. Centuries passed, but instability on the continent remained. Wars between rulers were commonplace. This ended with the rise of Ba Sing Se, whose rulers gradually and relentlessly brought all other lands under their control. Only Omashu retains slightly more autonomy, still having its own ruler, though ultimately under the authority of the Earth King in Ba Sing Se.
For two years now, I've been flying over the Earth Kingdom, but I've only explored about thirty percent of its area. I didn't rush, sometimes staying in one place for over a week. For peaceful travel, I created a new identity: Roku, with black hair tied in a ponytail and unusually bright purple eyes. Finding the dye was easy, and it lasts about two weeks—enough for visiting villages and towns.
Only here did I get to familiarize myself with the currencies of different nations. Money hadn't been a concern until now, or maybe I just hadn't paid much attention to it. The Northern Water Tribe has its own currency: round coins painted blue with a circular hole in the center, differing in denomination. Since the war began, they're not widely used; the North Pole prefers bartering. Some Earth Kingdom provinces still accept our coins, but I doubt it'll last…
In the Earth Kingdom, coins are round with a square hole in the center, resembling the national symbol. Gold, silver, and copper coins differ only in value. Among the wealthy, small gold ingots are common. Their currency resembles ancient Chinese coins, and their architecture and history remind me of China during the Warring States period. Now, it's relatively peaceful here, thanks to a strong external enemy.
In Fire Nation colonies within the Earth Kingdom, both Earth and Fire Nation coins are accepted. They look like angular metal plates of varying values, differing greatly in shape, weight, and size. All bear the national symbol: flames.
I'm not sure if the Air Nomads minted their own coins, but I've heard they traded with the Earth Kingdom using its currency.
"Alright, I won't disturb you further. I just wanted to say thank you—you know what for," the abbess said before leaving. "Bandits are getting out of hand, stealing the last bit of money from a poor monastery," she muttered faintly as she exited.
And how else am I supposed to get local money? By taking it from scum like them—they'll never need it again, heh. Such gangs exist in every province. Governors here only protect their own settlements; one more or one less village doesn't matter. Once a year, there's a crackdown, but usually only the slowest and youngest get caught—those without connections to the ruler's inner circle to warn them of the raid.
Often, their camps held village women with grim fates. Sometimes, bandits kidnapped wealthy merchants or local aristocrats, demanding ransoms. With each rescue, rumors about me spread: "Roku, the Bandit's Bane." The fame was pleasant at first, but it came with a downside. People in power began trying to hire me—with persuasion or threats. A strong earthbender is always useful, but they don't understand the word "no." Some are reasonable, but most at the top have longer pedigrees and deeper pockets. I had to remind them that an unfriendly bender is a danger to their health—even lethal.
There were also genuine psychopaths with bizarre tastes. They didn't last long; bloodbending leaves no trace. Eliminating them felt almost physically just, as if I'd made the world cleaner and brighter. There's no right or wrong here—the world is for real people, not monsters in disguise.
These events gradually hardened me, but they also brought me closer to the mindset of this world's inhabitants.
*
Every solstice, I left the human world to hunt in the Spirit World. I didn't always land in a good spot, sometimes returning empty-handed.
The desert is a dangerous place where an unprepared person can't survive. In the Spirit World, it's even more perilous, even for a powerful three-element bender. Constant thirst, no water sources, scorching days and freezing nights—plus relentless attacks from spirits for whom the desert sands are an advantage. It was tough. Waterbending was only for drinking; firebending barely harmed the spirits, and even earthbending was limited. I fought as best I could, hoping to leave this zone soon. Annoyingly, I only faced sand, scorpion, lizard, and spider spirits. Spider-Man's friends took a liking to me, visiting every three hours.
I didn't want to return to the human world, not because of any mental issues, but because I had a good reason to stay. By the way, you can't leave the Spirit World and re-enter it in a different location—I tried that once and wasted a visit.
Everything in the desert was infused with sand energy, which I had to use to my fullest. Mastering even basic sandbending was a priority. The faster I learned, the sooner I could leave. Figuring it out alone was hard, but the sand spirits' constant attacks showed me how to do it. I finished just two hours before the solstice ended.
That time I left the Spirit World early was my second failure that year, and I gained nothing from it. Luck turned its back on me again the third time—depending on how you look at it, of course. I ended up in a Salvador Dalí painting, or at least a similarly surreal landscape. Unrecognizable fragments of things, terrain seemingly glued together, trees growing and dying in seconds. My mind struggled to make sense of it, but it kept failing.
I didn't want to leave empty-handed, so I searched for the source of this chaos. After trying every detection method, I gave up—and that's when I saw it. The more I tried to find them, the more the overall picture slipped away. Only when I calmed down did I feel small spherical spirits flying, swimming, and teleporting around me. Some seemed to warp space itself, while others, near objects, rewound or restored their freshness.
Spirits of time and space! And all of them were higher-level! I wanted to leave, but when I stopped panicking, I realized none of them were harming me. Even passing through me, they had no effect. There must be a reason for my invulnerability—I don't believe in luck; there's something else…
It was hard to focus on them; as soon as I did, they vanished from my senses. Because I was too focused on the spirits, I nearly missed the end of the solstice. But I did understand what was happening. Half the spirits were various dark shades, while the other half were pure white. Each light spirit had a dark counterpart. They created the surreal landscape through their endless conflict. One side wanted to restore time and space to their natural order, while the other sought to plunge everything into chaos. They simply didn't care about me. Now I know such spirits exist—worth remembering.
My fourth visit in two years was uneventful—no dangers, but no growth either. This time, I was thrown among light spirits, gathered in unimaginable numbers for thousands of kilometers. It felt like all peaceful spirits were there. Their vast numbers were due to the aura of two ancient spirits living at the center, on a mountain peak hidden among clouds.
Talking to curious spirits, I learned that a pair of phoenixes—one commanding fire, the other ice—had lived there for millennia. A pair of ancient spirits! Their energy had saturated the area so much that even lone ancient dark spirits feared to come too close, let alone higher or mid-level ones. Now I understood why I felt exposed upon arriving—they scanned me, deemed me peaceful, and let me be.
The place was fantastic. Different areas showcased Earth's beauty: tropical forests, mesmerizing glaciers, and crystal-clear waters. Spirits of the same element gathered in groups, transforming parts of the territory to suit their element. Spirits and humans think too differently. Mid and low-level spirits found it comfortable here, but for humans and higher-level spirits, it would be boring. Few higher-level spirits were here because once you reach that level, you realize you don't want to just go with the flow. This place is like a starter village in a game—safe, where you grow stronger before seeking adventures!