Avatar The Last Airbender Fan Fiction ❯ The Mother Who Couldn't Be ❯ HeartBreak ( Chapter 2 )
[ T - Teen: Not suitable for readers under 13 ]
By: crescentmoon 
Read and review please.
Non Anime: Avatar The Last Airbender Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Angst / Drama | Type: One Shot | Uploaded On: 05.30.2009 | Updated On: 05.31.2009 | Pages: 1 | Words: 3.4K | Visits: 281 | Status: Work In Progress
Read and review please.
Non Anime: Avatar The Last Airbender Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Angst / Drama | Type: One Shot | Uploaded On: 05.30.2009 | Updated On: 05.31.2009 | Pages: 1 | Words: 3.4K | Visits: 281 | Status: Work In Progress
Disclaimer: I don’t own Avatar: The Last Air-bender, the very talented team of Mike and Brain own the show and characters. Umaio, her parents, Fiyo, Fana, Hitsi and Elnan are my characters please respect that. If you wish to use them please talk to me about it and give me credit for them. The rating maybe wrong but I did try to get it right.
By: year of the snake (at fanfiction) aka. crescentmoon (at mediaminer). And now Opal-Dreams on DeviantArt.
The Mother Who Couldn’t Be
Chapter Two
As the time came that Umaio’s baby would grow to the age of two Umaio began packing and the nuns were found often praying for her and other mother’s like her more and more. They prayed that she was making the right choice. In a few months they would be gone. Then the test of character would get even harder for that mother. They knew it but they knew that it is hard to let go of love when one has so little.
Umaio was becoming a little bitter towards the nuns who had to follow the guidelines set out for them even if it meant turning a girl away with a baby. They didn’t always like the rule but they were sworn to follow it. Honor is one of the most important things in this world.
The temple got a return note from their brother temple, the Southern Air-Temple; they would be sending some monks down to pick up twin boys just older than Umaio’s son. They would arrive in approximately a month. Umaio’s thoughts on their coming were less than kind. ‘Let’s see these devil men that want to take my son.’
She glared out at the men through her almost closed door. Umaio hid her son behind her; these men would never know he was here if she had her way.
Her boy was asleep almost as soon as they landed. So she slipped out of the room through a small opening between the door and doorframe. Today the happy bison dancing on the walls did nothing to lift her mood. She snuck close enough to see the men.
One was old, wrinkled and bent nearly to his knees. He looked like he had no business dealing with children. He was so sour looking. His wrinkles caused his face to pucker no matter how he moved it. She didn’t think she wanted to know how old he was.
Next to him on one side was a man not quiet so old. He had all white eyebrows and his bald head was the only part that had any wrinkles at all. He was probably in his late sixties or early seventies.
On the other side of the oldest man was the youngest of the men. If he had hair it would probably be brown and healthy. He was probably in his forties somewhere. ‘He could be my dad.’ she scowled at the thought. ‘Old kangaroo-goats!’
There was a boy behind them. He was more bone than muscle. The boy was a monk-in-training it looked like and he was fourteen the same age Umaio was when she had her son.
She glared harder; they were already teaching this boy to take children away from their mothers. If it weren’t for the fact she wasn’t suppose to be there at all she would have marched in there and rattled them with a few choice words they’d probably never heard before.
Two of the middle-aged nuns brought the baby boys out. The feeling in the room swiftly changed from all business to a more excited, loving atmosphere. One of the boys pushed violently away from the nun holding him and slipped from her grasp. Faster then Umaio could catch the movement one of the monks sent a wave of air to cushion the boy’s landing. It was the monk that could be her father. “Wow! Sifu Gyatso that was amazing!” the monk-in-training praised his master.
The nun who had been holding the boy lifted him off the air and placed him on solid ground. ‘Gyatso’ acknowledged his pupil as she did so. The other twin seeing his companion running around free struggled to be let go. His nun too placed him on the floor.
The monks just sat down and watched the boys play. This was to help get the boys more comfortable before introducing them and so the monks could get a better grasp on the boys’ characters so they could name them soon.
Umaio left, she had to, this was boring and who knew if her son would stay asleep very long. Plus she didn’t want someone to catch her there. That’s just what she needed, more trouble.
Throughout the time they were there Umaio caught glimpses of them. Each time she did her gaze was less condemning. They were kind to the children. The youngest monk and the monk-in-training played with the two boys when they could. She didn’t allow her own son near the boys anymore and he was throwing fits about it. He wanted to play with his friends.
One day as she was walking down the hall she saw that Gyatso was in front of her and the girls were getting their break from reading class. The girls came barreling down the hall. Two of the girls were racing and didn’t watch where they were going. Both of them ran into Gyatso and knocked him to the ground. The girls quickly apologized and waited for what the man told them to do. The man picked them up and Umaio thought he might spank them but instead he swung them around until they laughed hysterically. He put them down and whispered to them that that was what flying would feel like when they finally learned how. Then he sent them on their way with a reminder to look where they were running.
Gyatso spotted her and smiled at her and bowed. She looked at him curiously, with a dash of suspicion. She bowed back very little, which shows little respect, her small bow could be considered rude. She knew that. Then she turned and marched away. She’d get what she needed when he was gone.
A few nights before they would be returning to the Southern Air-Temple Umaio had to get up for some water and heard one of the twins crying. She went to them. The monks slept in the room with them so Umaio only peeked in. She saw Gyatso cradling the screaming child in his arms. The boy kept screaming but it was getting quieter. Soon the boy was calm and Umaio could hear Gyatso breathing tales of the adventures of one brave Flying-Lemur who rescued his people by pretending to be a Cobra-Hawk. The boy fell asleep before five minutes into the story.
As Umaio was gliding back down the hall she heard Elnan’s youngest sister, Hitsi scream. Hitsi frequently had night terrors. She wouldn’t wake up but she’d thrash around and scream things that made no sense. The nuns had to put her in her own room with just one of the nuns for company because she woke the other girls with it.
She could hear faint rustling from the room where the monks were so she hid. A handful of seconds later Gyatso walked past her to the door where Hitsi’s screams where coming from and knocked. The nun inside opened it then they both went in. Peeking in the door they left open Umaio saw Gyatso lean over the bed and pray. Then he got up and began to talk about sweet flowers blooming and bunny-frogs crawling around the flower stems. He talked and described a beautiful garden in full-bloom spring. The little girl quieted as the nun rubbed her stomach.
Gyatso looked up towards the door and Umaio dropped out of the frame. But she realized she had been seen. She thought that any second he would be out to reprimand her but no one came. She went back to bed with a head full of the kindness that was Gyatso and the confusing thoughts of why he didn’t even come out to ask why she was lurking around there.
As she crawled into bed a thought came to her, ‘Would it be so bad to have your baby raised by him?’ Umaio was angered by the thought and pushed it away with a violent, whispered, “Yes!” Yet even as she said that something deep down knew it wouldn’t be so bad for her son, just for her.
The next day she was tormented by the argument that had never played in her head before, the argument to give the baby up. Each calm little thought that came and told her one of many good reasons to give the baby to Gyatso was met was a kick in the rear out an air-temple window. To bad those thoughts were air-benders and just came right back. That day while her boy napped she went out on the far side of the air-temple and yelled as loud as she could. The thoughts that she couldn’t get rid of were driving her crazy. One of the thoughts that came to her most often was that fact that it like her son would be an air-bender, who would train him in air-bending? Some magical air-bending fairy maybe? To bad they didn’t exist.
‘No! I don’t want to give him up! I don’t want to give him up! He’s mine! He’s mine! I love him and he’s mine!’ she yelled in her head to the worrisome thoughts.
As the second day of those bothering thoughts wore on the things she could use against giving him to these men lost their power and the ones saying that the best thing for the boy she loved would be that man got stronger. By the end of the day she was emotionally exhausted. She just started bawling. Her baby was saying his version of ‘Your okay.’, “oo’s okay.” and patting her arm.
Umaio held him at arms length and looked at him through soggy eyes. ‘Doesn’t he deserve the best you can give him? The best you can give him is about to leave tomorrow.’ “Sweetheart,” Her voice cracked so she tried again. “Sweetheart, I love you most!” Then she hugged him close and cried into his back.
That night after her toddler was asleep Umaio picked him up and took him down the hall to where the men were staying. She went in the room silently and nudged Gyatso with her foot. “Young monk,” she addressed him painfully when he woke, “I give you my boy. P-Please…” she breathed heavy and tried to keep the tears from falling on her son. “Please raise him gently, like a true father.”
Gyatso stood and looked her dead in the eye. He swore to her, “On my honor I will.”
She closed her eyes squeezed her son close and kissed his forehead and nodded. Following that she forced arms that cramped with the struggle to release her boy to hand her precious gift to the man in front of her. To a man she didn’t even know.
Then she turned before she could renounce her willingness and steal her son back. Umaio fled out of the room and down the hallways. She didn’t go back to her room. She went back to the bison barracks instead.
In the bison barracks Umaio fished a writing utensil and a paper she always carried around to have something for her son to do should she need it and began the first of what later in her life would be two of the hardest, most emotional letters she had ever written. The first words were,
‘Dear Sweetheart,
I am your mother and I love you.’
It went on to say many great things and hard things that she and he had shared in their brief time together. It also told how she hoped he understood or would come to understand that she gave him to the monks in love. And for herself she wanted nothing more than to keep him. But she couldn’t put him through that life.
Umaio stayed up all night and into the morning to write it. When the men were going to leave she rushed out to them and kissed her baby one more time. It would be the last time she would kiss him. She gave Gyatso the letter asking him to give it to her son when the time was right to know about his mother. She once again extracted the promise of him raising her boy with all the love he had. Then she let them leave.
Next the tears came. Tears that shouldn’t have the reserve of water needed to create them came and trickled down her face. Her emotionally and physically drained body collapsed to the stone floor. She cried in a heap there for hours before eventually falling to sleep.
It was hard for Umaio with her baby gone. And while the understatement of a lifetime has just passed by your eyes it was true many times over. The first month or so was the hardest.
Umaio spent that entire first month crying. If she wasn’t crying physically she was bawling emotionally, if she wasn’t bawling emotionally she was wailing mentally. Even when the tears no longer could possibly form she often kept convulsing with the tears that didn‘t wet her cheeks. It was exceedingly painful to want her son, to love her son and have him be so far away. And with the knowledge that she would probably never see him again weighing her down more it was remarkable she could stand at all.
As she walked down the halls she could appear to be the walking dead, the okay type walking dead but the walking dead. Then suddenly tears would fountain from her tear ducts. It was hard for the nuns to watch but they understood they had to let her grieve in her own way.
Another thing that worried the nuns was that she never really ate. In fact sometimes she would cry so hard she would dry heave.
Umaio didn’t even last a week before she could hardly stand the separation anymore. She went to where the nuns were gathered to pray and said, “Please help me… Please don’t let me go after my baby. Don’t let me take him away from the good life he will have! Physically restrain me if you have to but don’t let me go after my boy!”
Mother Superior went up to her and hugged her. Many of the other nuns followed suit.
Nun Fana said, “If that is what you wish and it becomes necessary we will.”
The Mother Superior raised an eyebrow then had to cover her mouth to keep from laughing during this serious time. Being a fun loving and happy-go-lucky person by nature it was hard for the Mother Superior to not find humor in serious things.
The other nuns looked at Fana oddly as well. They blamed her more ‘coarse’ behavior on being raised in the Earth Kingdom or on being at one time a thief.
They did actually have to lock Umaio in her room five times because she tried to steal a Sky-Bison and go after her son. One time they actually had to go after her on another Sky-Bison and bring her back. That time she got some good blows on the nuns before they dragged her back. But once she got over the current overwhelming wave of pain she was thankful to them for stopping her.
The first month ended as did Umaio’s ‘rescue’ attempts. She still thought of her baby all the time. ‘How big is he getting? What’s he learning? What did they name him?’ and many other questions on her son pounded in her brain all day long. But she could feel herself stretching to fill the role of a true mother, a mother who would give her very heart, her life for her child. She knew she would always love and miss him, but Umaio would sacrifice her will for the betterment of her son.
Every morning and every night she prayed for him. She prayed that he would be healthy and strong. Umaio prayed that he would learn quickly and well. She prayed for all good things on her son and his caretakers.
Umaio rarely thought of the clear fact that she would never see her son again. She wasn’t ready to deal with that reality. As she grew more ready she would deal with it but for now she would pretend that she had just sent her son away to school like many parents around the world did. The pain of that thought was just too much for her to deal with so soon.
As her son would be okay she needed to make sure she would too. Should they ever meet again she wanted him to be able to be proud of who she had become. So she began training to be a nun at the air-temple.
Slowly she came around to the viewpoint that his training with the monks would make it so the blessing he was to her would engulf the world. Someday with his training spearheading it, he would be recognized as a blessing to the entire world.
Still everyday she wished that she could give him the family all babies need, long for and crave.
A year later Umaio got a letter from Gyatso. The letter said that her son was the Avatar and nothing else.
When Umaio read that she was stunned. She plopped down on her bed in the nuns’ room and just stared at the letter in her hands. ‘My baby is the Avatar?’ It was mind boggling. ‘How could MY baby be the Avatar? I mean the Avatar should come from great parents not me and Fiyo.’ The answer came to her as a trickle of thought in the back of her mind. ‘The Avatar came to you because you would love him enough to let him be raised by monks. And because you needed him.’
The next thought was that the world was in his hands. That’s a heavy burden for anyone to bear.
Umaio began to cry and pray more earnestly then she had since she had to decide whether to do what was best for her baby or what was best for her. ‘Please let my baby be safe! Please help him on his journey. He isn’t just my greatest treasure anymore he is the world’s greatest treasure. Please, please spirits of heaven and earth, water and fire, protect and guide my baby, my boy.’
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Hi there everyone! I don’t really know what to say… Not a lot of people are paying attention to this story, as far as I know. But that’s not going to stop me. I can’t really blame people for not wanting to read a sad story. They’re not really at the top of my list either. They usually aren’t at the top of my writing list for that matter. I like to write fun happy stories. Usually my stories have romance in them too so yeah.
Anyway I would like to thank all who have read this. I want to thank even more the people who reviewed, after all they are the ones who tell me things like if they liked the story, favorite parts of the story, what they didn’t like, mistakes and many other things that help me/make me happy. So THANK Y’ALL!
I will get the next chapter out soon… probably.
By: year of the snake (at fanfiction) aka. crescentmoon (at mediaminer). And now Opal-Dreams on DeviantArt.
The Mother Who Couldn’t Be
Chapter Two
As the time came that Umaio’s baby would grow to the age of two Umaio began packing and the nuns were found often praying for her and other mother’s like her more and more. They prayed that she was making the right choice. In a few months they would be gone. Then the test of character would get even harder for that mother. They knew it but they knew that it is hard to let go of love when one has so little.
Umaio was becoming a little bitter towards the nuns who had to follow the guidelines set out for them even if it meant turning a girl away with a baby. They didn’t always like the rule but they were sworn to follow it. Honor is one of the most important things in this world.
The temple got a return note from their brother temple, the Southern Air-Temple; they would be sending some monks down to pick up twin boys just older than Umaio’s son. They would arrive in approximately a month. Umaio’s thoughts on their coming were less than kind. ‘Let’s see these devil men that want to take my son.’
She glared out at the men through her almost closed door. Umaio hid her son behind her; these men would never know he was here if she had her way.
Her boy was asleep almost as soon as they landed. So she slipped out of the room through a small opening between the door and doorframe. Today the happy bison dancing on the walls did nothing to lift her mood. She snuck close enough to see the men.
One was old, wrinkled and bent nearly to his knees. He looked like he had no business dealing with children. He was so sour looking. His wrinkles caused his face to pucker no matter how he moved it. She didn’t think she wanted to know how old he was.
Next to him on one side was a man not quiet so old. He had all white eyebrows and his bald head was the only part that had any wrinkles at all. He was probably in his late sixties or early seventies.
On the other side of the oldest man was the youngest of the men. If he had hair it would probably be brown and healthy. He was probably in his forties somewhere. ‘He could be my dad.’ she scowled at the thought. ‘Old kangaroo-goats!’
There was a boy behind them. He was more bone than muscle. The boy was a monk-in-training it looked like and he was fourteen the same age Umaio was when she had her son.
She glared harder; they were already teaching this boy to take children away from their mothers. If it weren’t for the fact she wasn’t suppose to be there at all she would have marched in there and rattled them with a few choice words they’d probably never heard before.
Two of the middle-aged nuns brought the baby boys out. The feeling in the room swiftly changed from all business to a more excited, loving atmosphere. One of the boys pushed violently away from the nun holding him and slipped from her grasp. Faster then Umaio could catch the movement one of the monks sent a wave of air to cushion the boy’s landing. It was the monk that could be her father. “Wow! Sifu Gyatso that was amazing!” the monk-in-training praised his master.
The nun who had been holding the boy lifted him off the air and placed him on solid ground. ‘Gyatso’ acknowledged his pupil as she did so. The other twin seeing his companion running around free struggled to be let go. His nun too placed him on the floor.
The monks just sat down and watched the boys play. This was to help get the boys more comfortable before introducing them and so the monks could get a better grasp on the boys’ characters so they could name them soon.
Umaio left, she had to, this was boring and who knew if her son would stay asleep very long. Plus she didn’t want someone to catch her there. That’s just what she needed, more trouble.
Throughout the time they were there Umaio caught glimpses of them. Each time she did her gaze was less condemning. They were kind to the children. The youngest monk and the monk-in-training played with the two boys when they could. She didn’t allow her own son near the boys anymore and he was throwing fits about it. He wanted to play with his friends.
One day as she was walking down the hall she saw that Gyatso was in front of her and the girls were getting their break from reading class. The girls came barreling down the hall. Two of the girls were racing and didn’t watch where they were going. Both of them ran into Gyatso and knocked him to the ground. The girls quickly apologized and waited for what the man told them to do. The man picked them up and Umaio thought he might spank them but instead he swung them around until they laughed hysterically. He put them down and whispered to them that that was what flying would feel like when they finally learned how. Then he sent them on their way with a reminder to look where they were running.
Gyatso spotted her and smiled at her and bowed. She looked at him curiously, with a dash of suspicion. She bowed back very little, which shows little respect, her small bow could be considered rude. She knew that. Then she turned and marched away. She’d get what she needed when he was gone.
A few nights before they would be returning to the Southern Air-Temple Umaio had to get up for some water and heard one of the twins crying. She went to them. The monks slept in the room with them so Umaio only peeked in. She saw Gyatso cradling the screaming child in his arms. The boy kept screaming but it was getting quieter. Soon the boy was calm and Umaio could hear Gyatso breathing tales of the adventures of one brave Flying-Lemur who rescued his people by pretending to be a Cobra-Hawk. The boy fell asleep before five minutes into the story.
As Umaio was gliding back down the hall she heard Elnan’s youngest sister, Hitsi scream. Hitsi frequently had night terrors. She wouldn’t wake up but she’d thrash around and scream things that made no sense. The nuns had to put her in her own room with just one of the nuns for company because she woke the other girls with it.
She could hear faint rustling from the room where the monks were so she hid. A handful of seconds later Gyatso walked past her to the door where Hitsi’s screams where coming from and knocked. The nun inside opened it then they both went in. Peeking in the door they left open Umaio saw Gyatso lean over the bed and pray. Then he got up and began to talk about sweet flowers blooming and bunny-frogs crawling around the flower stems. He talked and described a beautiful garden in full-bloom spring. The little girl quieted as the nun rubbed her stomach.
Gyatso looked up towards the door and Umaio dropped out of the frame. But she realized she had been seen. She thought that any second he would be out to reprimand her but no one came. She went back to bed with a head full of the kindness that was Gyatso and the confusing thoughts of why he didn’t even come out to ask why she was lurking around there.
As she crawled into bed a thought came to her, ‘Would it be so bad to have your baby raised by him?’ Umaio was angered by the thought and pushed it away with a violent, whispered, “Yes!” Yet even as she said that something deep down knew it wouldn’t be so bad for her son, just for her.
The next day she was tormented by the argument that had never played in her head before, the argument to give the baby up. Each calm little thought that came and told her one of many good reasons to give the baby to Gyatso was met was a kick in the rear out an air-temple window. To bad those thoughts were air-benders and just came right back. That day while her boy napped she went out on the far side of the air-temple and yelled as loud as she could. The thoughts that she couldn’t get rid of were driving her crazy. One of the thoughts that came to her most often was that fact that it like her son would be an air-bender, who would train him in air-bending? Some magical air-bending fairy maybe? To bad they didn’t exist.
‘No! I don’t want to give him up! I don’t want to give him up! He’s mine! He’s mine! I love him and he’s mine!’ she yelled in her head to the worrisome thoughts.
As the second day of those bothering thoughts wore on the things she could use against giving him to these men lost their power and the ones saying that the best thing for the boy she loved would be that man got stronger. By the end of the day she was emotionally exhausted. She just started bawling. Her baby was saying his version of ‘Your okay.’, “oo’s okay.” and patting her arm.
Umaio held him at arms length and looked at him through soggy eyes. ‘Doesn’t he deserve the best you can give him? The best you can give him is about to leave tomorrow.’ “Sweetheart,” Her voice cracked so she tried again. “Sweetheart, I love you most!” Then she hugged him close and cried into his back.
That night after her toddler was asleep Umaio picked him up and took him down the hall to where the men were staying. She went in the room silently and nudged Gyatso with her foot. “Young monk,” she addressed him painfully when he woke, “I give you my boy. P-Please…” she breathed heavy and tried to keep the tears from falling on her son. “Please raise him gently, like a true father.”
Gyatso stood and looked her dead in the eye. He swore to her, “On my honor I will.”
She closed her eyes squeezed her son close and kissed his forehead and nodded. Following that she forced arms that cramped with the struggle to release her boy to hand her precious gift to the man in front of her. To a man she didn’t even know.
Then she turned before she could renounce her willingness and steal her son back. Umaio fled out of the room and down the hallways. She didn’t go back to her room. She went back to the bison barracks instead.
In the bison barracks Umaio fished a writing utensil and a paper she always carried around to have something for her son to do should she need it and began the first of what later in her life would be two of the hardest, most emotional letters she had ever written. The first words were,
‘Dear Sweetheart,
I am your mother and I love you.’
It went on to say many great things and hard things that she and he had shared in their brief time together. It also told how she hoped he understood or would come to understand that she gave him to the monks in love. And for herself she wanted nothing more than to keep him. But she couldn’t put him through that life.
Umaio stayed up all night and into the morning to write it. When the men were going to leave she rushed out to them and kissed her baby one more time. It would be the last time she would kiss him. She gave Gyatso the letter asking him to give it to her son when the time was right to know about his mother. She once again extracted the promise of him raising her boy with all the love he had. Then she let them leave.
Next the tears came. Tears that shouldn’t have the reserve of water needed to create them came and trickled down her face. Her emotionally and physically drained body collapsed to the stone floor. She cried in a heap there for hours before eventually falling to sleep.
It was hard for Umaio with her baby gone. And while the understatement of a lifetime has just passed by your eyes it was true many times over. The first month or so was the hardest.
Umaio spent that entire first month crying. If she wasn’t crying physically she was bawling emotionally, if she wasn’t bawling emotionally she was wailing mentally. Even when the tears no longer could possibly form she often kept convulsing with the tears that didn‘t wet her cheeks. It was exceedingly painful to want her son, to love her son and have him be so far away. And with the knowledge that she would probably never see him again weighing her down more it was remarkable she could stand at all.
As she walked down the halls she could appear to be the walking dead, the okay type walking dead but the walking dead. Then suddenly tears would fountain from her tear ducts. It was hard for the nuns to watch but they understood they had to let her grieve in her own way.
Another thing that worried the nuns was that she never really ate. In fact sometimes she would cry so hard she would dry heave.
Umaio didn’t even last a week before she could hardly stand the separation anymore. She went to where the nuns were gathered to pray and said, “Please help me… Please don’t let me go after my baby. Don’t let me take him away from the good life he will have! Physically restrain me if you have to but don’t let me go after my boy!”
Mother Superior went up to her and hugged her. Many of the other nuns followed suit.
Nun Fana said, “If that is what you wish and it becomes necessary we will.”
The Mother Superior raised an eyebrow then had to cover her mouth to keep from laughing during this serious time. Being a fun loving and happy-go-lucky person by nature it was hard for the Mother Superior to not find humor in serious things.
The other nuns looked at Fana oddly as well. They blamed her more ‘coarse’ behavior on being raised in the Earth Kingdom or on being at one time a thief.
They did actually have to lock Umaio in her room five times because she tried to steal a Sky-Bison and go after her son. One time they actually had to go after her on another Sky-Bison and bring her back. That time she got some good blows on the nuns before they dragged her back. But once she got over the current overwhelming wave of pain she was thankful to them for stopping her.
The first month ended as did Umaio’s ‘rescue’ attempts. She still thought of her baby all the time. ‘How big is he getting? What’s he learning? What did they name him?’ and many other questions on her son pounded in her brain all day long. But she could feel herself stretching to fill the role of a true mother, a mother who would give her very heart, her life for her child. She knew she would always love and miss him, but Umaio would sacrifice her will for the betterment of her son.
Every morning and every night she prayed for him. She prayed that he would be healthy and strong. Umaio prayed that he would learn quickly and well. She prayed for all good things on her son and his caretakers.
Umaio rarely thought of the clear fact that she would never see her son again. She wasn’t ready to deal with that reality. As she grew more ready she would deal with it but for now she would pretend that she had just sent her son away to school like many parents around the world did. The pain of that thought was just too much for her to deal with so soon.
As her son would be okay she needed to make sure she would too. Should they ever meet again she wanted him to be able to be proud of who she had become. So she began training to be a nun at the air-temple.
Slowly she came around to the viewpoint that his training with the monks would make it so the blessing he was to her would engulf the world. Someday with his training spearheading it, he would be recognized as a blessing to the entire world.
Still everyday she wished that she could give him the family all babies need, long for and crave.
A year later Umaio got a letter from Gyatso. The letter said that her son was the Avatar and nothing else.
When Umaio read that she was stunned. She plopped down on her bed in the nuns’ room and just stared at the letter in her hands. ‘My baby is the Avatar?’ It was mind boggling. ‘How could MY baby be the Avatar? I mean the Avatar should come from great parents not me and Fiyo.’ The answer came to her as a trickle of thought in the back of her mind. ‘The Avatar came to you because you would love him enough to let him be raised by monks. And because you needed him.’
The next thought was that the world was in his hands. That’s a heavy burden for anyone to bear.
Umaio began to cry and pray more earnestly then she had since she had to decide whether to do what was best for her baby or what was best for her. ‘Please let my baby be safe! Please help him on his journey. He isn’t just my greatest treasure anymore he is the world’s greatest treasure. Please, please spirits of heaven and earth, water and fire, protect and guide my baby, my boy.’
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Hi there everyone! I don’t really know what to say… Not a lot of people are paying attention to this story, as far as I know. But that’s not going to stop me. I can’t really blame people for not wanting to read a sad story. They’re not really at the top of my list either. They usually aren’t at the top of my writing list for that matter. I like to write fun happy stories. Usually my stories have romance in them too so yeah.
Anyway I would like to thank all who have read this. I want to thank even more the people who reviewed, after all they are the ones who tell me things like if they liked the story, favorite parts of the story, what they didn’t like, mistakes and many other things that help me/make me happy. So THANK Y’ALL!
I will get the next chapter out soon… probably.