Solitude <Shai City, North Pole>

[taartoq]

It was too much to bear. After the siege, adapting to normal life again, and to top it off, the dreadful news told by his wife. He needed to get away. His mind needed to be cleared, his soul at rest. It simply couldn't happen if he were down deep in a dusty old archival building, or at home with a pregnant wife whose moods changed more often than the tides themselves. An escape sounded so good. He knew Padma would worry, but it was tradition in a way. Three days and three nights outside the city's walls, traveling the wilderness. No one but himself and the polar bear-dogs that pulled his sleigh for the entire time, resulting in one thing that may bring him happiness. Solitude.

Taartoq knew he would feel infinitely better after his return. Away from everyone and everything that caused him grief, maybe he would learn to cope much better than at present. Perhaps he wouldn't take exception to most of what people said. He may see things in a different light, even. Whatever it was about the city proper, he had to leave for now. It was almost a wonder that his loved ones supported his decision, though they knew such things would change Taartoq for the better. He would no doubt be humbled by his trek through the tundra, doing his best to survive. He had hoped book knowledge and simply hearing how people could survive out in the wild would work well enough. If not, he always did have a few books on the matter, as well as sleeping bags, extra rations, and plenty of other supplied.

Snapping the reins, Taartoq was off on his journey. He had bid his farewell to his parents, wife, and everyone else who mattered. Dressed simply, he only wore (over several layers of robes for warmth) a plain deep blue tunic with a mandarin collar, its base edged by a narrow, tan fur lining. Its sleeves were long, but its hem reached only to his thigh to allow for better mobility. His legs, covered by thick woven leggings and heavy azure trousers, would be kept warm excellently. His anorak covered everything else, including the simple fur-lined, cup-shaped azure hat on his head that covered his long, unrestrained hair. Perhaps more notably was how he wore no jewelry; no earrings, no necklaces, no armlets. He would dress humbly, plainly, simply. Nothing unnecessary.

Barring a healthy degree of ridicule about him being 'changeable' and 'fickle', Taartoq would stick to his word and not turn back. Three days and three nights on this new frontier, starting now at the break of dawn. He wouldn't turn back. His sleigh soared across endless fields of white effortlessly.

[taartoq]

Hours had passed, but Taartoq was altogether undeterred. There was a certain fascination with this sea of white that outweighed all the minor occurances that would otherwise keep reminding the waterbender that they existed. Flying snow kept stinging his eyes, but seeing masses of powder glitter in the sunlight as it blew off the tops of the dunes was something one just didn't see very often in the city. The sun, broken through the heavy clouds of the morn, now started to glare off the endless tundra, but at least it meant the day wouldn't be so cold as if it were dark and overcast.

By now, he had already passed plenty of high, jutting stony cliffs, of which he had only read about. They were incredible once took the time to admire them in the distance. Like mountains buried under centuries of snowfall, towering above the snowy plain on that clear day, no clouds or fog to hide them from view. Taartoq took every note of such picturesque beauty. Not once did he think about himself or his own concerns.

In no time had he reached the face of a particularly high peak, a dark excresence mottled with plenty of snow, and stopped his dogsled at the very edge of its shadow. His first footsteps onto the land were unflattering, causing him to literally fall face-forward into the deep snow. To him, it felt like he was a child again, walking outside his home after an unusually heavy snowstorm the night before. His feet sank in an instant, but he was quick to pull himself up again. He knew well that deep snow required a certain gait, a distinctive walk so one's weight would be even across the powdery surface. Maybe even the pair of specialized shoes he'd actually rembered to pack. Fumbling and tumbling over the snow in a manner most clumsy, Taartoq untied the dangling pear-shaped instruments and dislodged them from the rest of the supplies, eventually tying them to his feet as they ought to be. Snowshoes, they were apparently called, used very often a good time ago when his people hadn't yet built the large city of Shai.

His walk from there to the cliff's edge was awkward at best, unsure how to go about such things. He still remained above the snow's surface, not sinking, but he felt like he was going to tumble backward at any given moment. It was so disconcerting to feel that way, when Taartoq fancied himself a graceful and poised person. How humbling, though he knew the polar bear-dogs would be the last to judge him. Animals weren't like humans, who seemed to pounce on every opportunity to make themselves seem superior to the next human. It was almost sickening.

Looking upward at the indefinitely high peak while running his hand over the rocky wall, Taartoq felt his stomach twist a bit. It was too high to climb, not that he'd ever dream of such things, yet he did wonder if a single human had ever set foot on the place. Probably the airbenders of so long ago, rest their spirits, would no doubt have had a lovely picnic atop the small mountain with those flying creatures they viewed as companions. Nowadays, only migrating snow cranes would probably nest above the place in the relative warmth of summer, basking in abundant sunlight. If Taartoq recalled correctly, those birds would be returning soon since it was springtime. Continuing his upward gaze, a shiver ran down his spine. He had to stop before he passed out. His mind simply couldn't comprehend being so high in the air.

[taartoq]

He'd try not to do that again. Even an obsessively well-placed water whip like he delivered to the rocky face of that cliff made a fair amount of rock and snow tumble down his way, prompting him to dive out of the path, but the handfuls of rough stones he obtained were interesting indeed. Although a dull black like charcoal, they also seemed to sparkle in the proper light; not blue and smooth like the prized stones used to make betrothal necklaces at all, nor were they similar to spark rocks shipped in from the Earth Kingdom. He wondered what use they could have. If only he had read up on such things before hand, he would probably have remembered every boring detail about them whether he liked it or not - chances were, he would, but that wasn't important. They could be used for something or another, he supposed.

After a short walk back to the sled, those beasts of burden waiting patiently as they watched him return, Taartoq removed his snowshoes and sat back in place. Soon came another snap of the reins and a jolt to his neck, head jerking back painfully as it kept doing before. He really wasn't accustomed to such things, understandably, nor did he think he would ever be. It wasn't a life for him, but he had to admit the silence and peace of the vast tundra was very relaxing indeed. Quite tranquil, and fine for the very purpose of his journey. He hadn't much time to ponder again whether or not he would return a better person as the flying loose snow resumed stinging his eyes. That was so bothersome, sledding into the wind like that, no matter how gentle the breeze was that morning.

The journey led him straight ahead, over each and every dune that shone white like cabbit fur. Faster and faster went his sleigh, though his eyes still cared to remit every detail to his mind. Many times had he weighed the problem of finding a viable way back home, yet there were a few things he could rely upon. Namely, there was instinct of the creatures that pulled his sled or the key details he committed to memory. He was grateful he could even study the position of the stars the night before, comparing them to charts borrowed from the archival building, then taking careful note of the sun's path in the sky. Although, even if he headed in a straight path, there was still the danger of losing his way. There was always danger when one traveled by one's self in such a desolate wilderness. He had to keep his eye vigilant.

Another hour of travel made Taartoq take greater note of his growing hunger. He knew he had to stop and eat soon.

[taartoq]

Attitudes and circumstances may improve, but Taartoq was soon finding every single little flaw he hated about his little journey and focusing on them with great scrutiny. The way he bounced from his seat when the sled went over a hill, the way his hair tickled and scratched the back of his neck when tucked under his hood, the way something jingling noisily behind him prevented him from enjoying the relative silence interrupted only by the gentle crunching sounds of polar bear-dog paws on the snow, and especially the loose snowflakes that kept flying into his eyes. He thought the brief meal of eel jerky and seaweed bread made by his wife would lift his spirits, but he was wrong. He was even able to craft a suitable structure where he could eat, bending from the snowy ground a solid dome with a small hole in the roof for sunlight, a level floor, and a decent-sized plateau of a lump in the center that served as a table, but even then he wasn't completely happy. He was starting to think the idea was a bust and that no reward waited for him at the end. Then again, there was no honor in quitting. Anyone who knew Taartoq knew he never took the easy path (unless the situation involved people), which heading home certainly would be. Hardship makes for a man character, Taartoq kept assuring himself.

When his feelings were taken into consideration, this ordeal would probably leave him with the strongest personality that ever existed. The world would cringe in his shadow.

The terrain was slowly but surely changing before his eyes. Rocks crested from the tundra more and more, black silhouettes contrasting a pure white backdrop. Not many from his tribe saw such things, particularly those upper class folk content to stay at their nice, warm, comfortable homes. A nice, warm, comfortable home sounded excellent, actually. Taartoq knew something would ache when he awoke the next morning, no matter how padded his sleeping bag was. He had grown too accustomed to the furs stacked upon his own bed to adjust to sleeping with little cushion between himself and the floor - especially in such a short time. No doubt he would spend a good deal of time shivering before he could nod off to sleep. Perhaps if he had a fair bit of body fat across his form would things be more favorable, since his thin frame currently did him no good whatsoever for so many reasons. His hip muscles were even starting to hurt for sitting and trying not to tip over for so long. It wasn't even afternoon yet...

[taartoq]

It struck him long ago how he hadn't said a single word all day. Padma was still sleeping before he left, and she had been basically the only person he cared to acknowledge at all that morning. The more he thought on it, the more he realized how nice it felt neither to talk, nor to have any need to. No one to exasperated him by requiring some tedious explanation for fairly simple things, no one to deliberately insult him just because they felt entitled to such, no one to suddenly change moods and wreak havoc on his psyche. There wasn't a soul around for miles, other than Taartoq and his sled dogs. It felt sort of nice.

It almost outweighed all the annoying things that were befalling him that day. Petty problems cropping up from nowhere, most of which left in due time, seemed to plague him consistently. They were wearing down his nerves as much as life back at the tribe would. This excursion was being second-guessed almost to the point of extinction. There was so much for him to appreciate, but he overlooked it in favor of everything that applied at that exact moment. He didn't look beyond the most obvious (as he may usually do), but kept to a tiny little box full of everything that annoyed him.

But Taartoq's viewpoint was quickly going to change, and had already done so to a greater extent than he realized. Being so isolated in the wilderness and heading on a fast track to a faraway place made him quickly learn to adapt. It was in the spirit of his people to do so. He had to tolerate, to understand, and to coexist with his minor problems whether he liked it or not. Unwittingly, since he hadn't yet examined that fact to death, he was on the fast track toward taking in the very essence of his tribe. He just hadn't enlightened himself to the fact yet.

In the widest scope, he was still facing whatever happened to bother him back at home. He was easily frustrated no matter how stolid he often seemed, and these circumstances most certainly were no different. Whether he was in a crowded city full of people or alone on a desolate snowy tundra, he was still Taartoq. No matter where he went, his attitude was still the same. Nothing would change until he changed himself. Plenty of classic philosophies applied to the waterbender at that moment. The changing scenery that he could admire was enough to draw his train of conscious thought elsewhere, but his mind was too preoccupied with himself to even come to realize such things.

It would dawn in time...

[taartoq]

It was like nothing Taartoq had ever seen. He had watched for over half a hour easily, possibly longer, but only in sheer wonderment. It showed clearly the true power and majesty of water. MelBAD!er from the heightening temperatures of spring was flowing through a glacier, effortlessly cutting a path through the ice like a powerful river, like a mighty waterfall that tore down every obstacle in its path. That clear and strong stream of glistening water sank down into a cavernous shaft of blue, graduating to darker shades the deeper it went. A true spectacle of nature struck him with a sense awe.

His face still never changed in expression. It was merely what he felt inside that counted. Taartoq stood and watched, trying to keep his composure on the icy surface.

It made Taartoq forget about himself, even if it in some way applied to him, and to a much grander extent, his people. They were strong and could take to most any environment they pleased without any great issue. It was then he thought to apply such things to himself. Of course, he felt a pang of guilt strike at how he'd acted. Maybe soon, depression would fade from his mind. It was selfish of him not to want to welcome that new life borne to him and Padma into the world. It was sacred as any of nature's creation, any works of the spirits' capable hands, and deserved exactly as much wonder and awe as anything else. Running a hand over his forehead, whisking back any loose wisps of hair, he sighed. That miracle he and his wife made by themselves would be there before he knew it. He would be ready by then, as much and as strongly as his mind once protested.

Flaying out his arms, Taartoq looked to the stream that sparkled in sunlight as it tore down deep into that crevice. He knew it was a powerful force, but figured that he as a waterbender could try his best to stop it. To prove to himself the excelling force of water would be a valuable lesson, of which he assured himself very much. Gently, foreward came his hands as he felt the small, speeding river come into his grasp.

He thrust forward his hand, trying to halt or even reverse the flow of this cascade as best he could. By will alone, his feet sunk into the ice below for a better stance, edges creeping up past his ankle to root him in place. Letting out a deep breath, Taartoq focused himself. He closed his eyes and held the steady stream in place, even when pressure built up as more and more water came his way. Standing in the way of nature's force felt like a futile effort, but Taartoq was sure it would be good training in many ways.

As his sled dogs sat off in the slow patiently, Taartoq continued his effort as the hours flew by. It certainly wasn't often he could waterbend like this.

[taartoq]

It was almost like a sort of meditation, but a fine way to strengthen his waterbending. The entire time, he drew a usual blank expression, facial muscles relaxed and devoid of any discernable emotion. Nowhere on his features were happiness, fear, anger, annoyance, or defeat. Simply a tranquil mood, focused on this task that few had the opportunity to perform.

His ankles were glued firmly in place, but the rest of him could only last for so long. Through the hours, though, his fingers and wrists, down to his side and hip muscles, began to ache. It could very well have been a sign to quit this task of trying to stop or slow such powerful forces, but Taartoq kept at it. There was no sense quitting once it became difficult. A lesson lay in how it was easy to keep at a seemingly trying task, until it became a burden. In the calm fog of his mind, Taartoq realized that maybe, just maybe, that had slowly become his viewpoint toward people. They were difficult, surely, but patience served greatly in any situation. He just had no patience with any human being, except for a select handful. Even then it was almost exhausting to handle such people. They just kept changing and moving, progressing or regressing.

It was tiresome to keep track of what brought them joy or pain, what granted them fear or sadness. He gave up on trying to please people. Taartoq still believed it was a futile effort to please everyone, but figured patience could fortify him in even greater ways. If he was going to be a father, it would take time and exertion to train his children to be tolerable people. After this first one was born, Padma no doubt wanted more young ones pitter-pattering about the place. It still wasn't his favorite idea, but he had to place himself in her proverbial shoes. It was her dream, no matter how painful it was to him. He would be a tyrant to deprive Padma of that ray of happiness that shone into her life.

The glowing sun was carefully climbing down the blue sky, alerting all to the fact that soon, night will be there. As much as Taartoq would have enjoyed this sort of ascetic training to which he subjected himself, it had to end soon. Night would drop the environment to freezing temperatures, and Taartoq couldn't leave himself out in the dark past the hour of sunset. He had to make shelter for himself.

Being a waterbender was an advantage in this situation, since he could make a simple, yet passable dome of a hut with a flick of his wrist. Anything more was a bit more work, but a worthwhile cause.

Freeing his feet from its icy cast, the androgynous waterbender closed his eyes for a second or two. His ears heard every gentle roar of the waterfall, assuring him of its power. It allowed him to learn and to develop. It gave him a gratuitous spirit, enough to the point where he offered a polite bow to the cascade itself. Nature was to be respected.

Returning himself quickly to his sleigh, Taartoq kept on his way toward the setting sun. Craggy spires of pitch-black stone framed his path.

[taartoq]

That night of sleep wasn't his best. Variations of the same dream he had whilst passed out in the Spirit Oasis afflicted his mind as soon as he shut his eyes, and rarely did more than an hour pass before he jolted from sleep once again - thankfully, he could return to slumber easily, tired out from the day and trying to keep stable on his dogsled. Inside his dome of ice, which included a small vestibule where the polar bear-dogs could sleep, another stoage compartment for his sled, and a sealed-off door to lock in heat. Nothing taken with him was left outdoors, simply to keep it safe. From the inside, the floor was a solid layer of packed snow, where two thick hides lay stacked upon each other, then a certain indigo sleeping bag decorated with baby blue beadwork in the center of these; and on the inside of this sleeping bag was a certain waterbender whose sleep was far from easy.

Taartoq woke with the sunrise. From the small ventilation hole in the roof of the dome was he able to perceive the presence of dawn before he actually opened his cyan eyes. From where he lay, he could see a beautiful coral hue flecked by cloudy strips of gray spreading across the sky. His first night in the wilds was a success - he didn't die, neither were any appendages missing from his body. He was, however, quickly losing traces of petty and selfish fear that kept afflicting his mind for weeks beforehand. The future was no longer a black hole of no escape, but now a fascinating frontier - or it would at least be that way by the time he came home.

Until the sun ascended fully beyond the edge of the land, Taartoq watched. He remained in a sort of makeshift foyer, guarded from cold winds, which made him able to forego his parka and stay outside. The air would be still, but a freezing touch would still prevail. It didn't take him long before he retired to the domed hut after feeling too cold to go on. Inside, now that the sun had risen, the small abode was bright even without the aid of whale-oil candles. He had no need to change his clothes or wash his hair, no matter how strongly he desired. He felt like filth was crawling up his skin and throughout his sable tresses, but knew he had no other option than to grimace and bear it.

Gathering his belongings from the tiny domicile, Taartoq lowered the wall between the main hut's body and that of the area where his sleigh was stored. A quick bite of seaweed bread and whale jerky, the latter of which hadn't preserved very well, would no doubt give him energy for the next few hours. Shortly after that, he was off again. He was a spear's throw from the top of the world, whether he knew it or not.

[taartoq]

Day two of Taartoq's journey was in full flight, but every earthly and menial care was wavering swiftly from his mind. The wild, not himself, was starting to take up a great majority of his mind and attention as sights grew so diverse. It was like another world and felt so far from home, when in reality, it was so close. Most anyone he knew, if they made the proper effort, could be in the very same place if it was their strong and earnest desire.

Taartoq started to feel strongly that life in a city, even if (like Shai) it wasn't the greatest or most populous, wasn't productive for any human being. Sadly, he knew it was somewhat necessary in wartimes like the present, to fortify themselves in such a stronghold. Although, perhaps the most frightening fact lay in that the Fire Nation troops were now becoming airborne and were virtually unstroppable. If the Avatar didn't act soon, then what hope could there be fore the world? That very question weighed on the world's mind in some way or another.

Maybe after the war was over, the scene of the north could change considerably. Islands outside the massive sea wall (which in itself could easily be eradicated) could house homes, perhaps large, palatial estates. It had always been something of a dream for Taartoq to inhabit his own island, but the wealth and influence of his father could probably make it a reality. The day the world at large was at peace would bring a slew of ingenious ideas to Taartoq's head. The sooner, the better.

Gliding on the snowy dunes, to Taartoq, felt like he was soaring above the clouds faster than any other man or woman; like the earth was far, far below and the sky not high above his hooded head. The white world ahead seemed so endless as long as his cyan eyes peered distantly, still stung by the occasional fleck of flying snow. It was still something of a bother, but the minor annoyance afflicting virtually the only part of his body exposed to the biting cold was something he was willing to overlook.

From where Taartoq stopped his sled, he could see the sun was exactly his forefinger's length from the hilly crests in the horizon once his arm was extended. Indeed, it was setting quickly and the day seemed like it was ending before it had begun. A day of meditative thought and idle thoughts about the snowy and rocky landscape around him brought him thus far, but he still felt like there was more to be had.

Again, when his sled was parked away in a smaller compartment and the dogs in another, and after another brief meal was consumed, Taartoq stood outside his artfully-crafted, yet still temporary hut and watched the sun fade from sight. To think he'd seen the sun rise and set in the same day really did feel like an accomplishment, especially since there was only so much one could witness when they lived in Shai proper for their entire lives. It was more a question of when the sun would rise or set over the wall encircling the city, rather than seeing it straight on the horizon.

Perhaps the sun would awaken him kindly the next morning. He had insured the roof above his head was mostly thin and transparent ice, which was, while somewhat impractical, superb if he wished to be awoken by the sun. There would be no illumination otherwise, since no aperture existed in his dome for light to travel through.

That night, his sleeping bag felt very comfortable and welcoming.

[taartoq]

An odd sensation woke the waterbender, as did the eerie glow looming through the translucent ceiling providing shelter. It was almost like he could hear bells ringing softly in his ears, but the hushed whimper sounded the collective of polar bear-dogs in the room beside him was perhaps more alarming. If some insane, rogue waterbender had found them in the stark wilds outside the northern capital, then Taartoq feared he would never return and see his wife again; his child would also never know their father. It was chilling to think, but so much of a stretch of imagination that he deemed it highly unlikely. When he bothered to open his eyes and decide for himself whether or not it was a dream, the greenish haze seen through his shut eyelids amplified, telling him a different tale entirely.

Before his eyes and above his head, he saw the most vague traces of the northern lights, the boreal dawn, through the clear canopy directly upward. It was without question that he pried open the glassy ceiling arcing about three feet above his head, even if it meant a temporary loss of heat on his part. He was still wrapped like a coccoon in his sleeping bag sandwhiched between blankets and furs, so worry hadn't a fighting chance to make him think he would freeze. His face, however, was the worst place to be bitten by cold - but it was worth it.

Very...

There was something about the cold, clear air outside of Shai that made it seem so brilliant above his head. Every color of the rainbow dancing slowly, like ripples in a pond, waves in an ocean, or in terms he couldn't even think about, was as clear as day even in the dead of night. His eyes beheld every movement captured in an artistic beauty. It was truly incredible.

It was a foolhardy chance, but a blanket-wrapped Taartoq made his way about two feet outside his hut into the clear evening, waterbending the snow below his feet to further density that allowed him not to sink. Even his heavy clothes and blankets aided little, but his awestruck mind wouldn't let his curiosity die down so soon. Though a thick scarf covered most of his face, he smiled quite sincerely.

Even a few minutes in the harsh cold and haunting still of the night couldn't drive him back to his hut, but the dancing lights seemed to fade from the sky in good time. Afterward he would return to his dome and sleep soundly, with images of legend-inspiring lights swaying and squiggling in his mind. There was little else of its kind in the world.

[taartoq]

The grand finale actually began before dawn, when the sun issued its light to the world. Taartoq had woken to meditate, delving deep into his inner psyche and acheiving an inner calm, preparing him for the world to which he would return. If only the wilderness could be called his home, he thought he would be happy; but he never considered the great joy the ameneties of his tribe's city brought. Excellent gourmet foods and exceptional quality clothes were among these things, even if they were wholly material in nature. Wealth and status could grant him contentment for a while, but he knew his heart would forever be roaming the cold and lonely tundra. Being truthful, it was the way he preferred.

It would bring back countless memories and tales to tell - but only if Taartoq were the sort of person to relate such things. No doubt someone or another would hear him regale his feelings, but after awhile, life in Shai City would dull the magic and return him to the humdrum of the capital. It felt like an inevitability he wanted to escape, like death, but it couldn't be avoided. If he were granted the chance, there would be no hesitation on his part to return to the wild; especially if it were for an even longer period. For now, Taartoq felt satisfactorily changed - even if he was essentially the same person as before. Now that his selfish depression had left him, though, it was enough of a difference in his opinion.

Since his departure would be soon, he would be home well before nightfall.

Taartoq has ended this thread