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April 20, 2012
Jima was careful not to disturb her sleeping daughter as she lithely airbended the wooden door to a close. Gracefully, the new mother made her way to her newborn, and began gently stroking her hair. Jima did so, noiselessly, and heard a melody in the background. This melody was gentle, not like the tsungi horns heard throughout the temple. It was more graceful and nimble, and reminiscent of a music box Jima once had as a child. This melody was quite infectious and gave off the same tired-feeling received from eating a fruit pie. The baby yawned and the mother smiled. She began to sing. Her voice, so angelic, was analogous to the melody.
"Follow me in the wind. Your dreams are made in this haven. Darling, fly in the sky. You'll find your home in mother's arms. Be a feather. Grow forever. Soon you'll be in your mother's arms." Tears began falling from Jima's eyes. Not the tears that pour from sobbing, but the ones that flow uncontrollably. This was her goodbye. If only her daughter could stay in her mother's arms.
"I'll call you: Yangchen." Jima whispered as she wrapped a satin blanket around the girl.
"Alin, it's on the balcony!" Susan inadvertently exclaimed as boisterously as she could. Jima rolled her eyes. Her sister was not fit to be an airbender. Susan was the opposite of her older sisters. She was attached, loud, and disconnected. She was often isolated from the rest. Isolated. That is how Jima will feel. Jima must leave Yangchen behind. Air Nomads are not to be attached, not even to their children. "I think that's all of it".
Even more agilely, Alin airbended the door open and crept inside. "Come now, Jima. It's time to go. You can't develop feelings for her." Alin cautiously tip-toed over to her sister.
"I know, but... She's my baby." Jima cried.
"You aren't to use that word, Jima. Sister Cho taught you better than that!" Alin's voice rose as she took Yangchen from the newly made mother's arms. Alin pondered something. The blanket was not folded in the traditional way around the newborn girl. "What's this?" she said, stripping a piece of parchment from a cease in the blanket.
"It's nothing, Alin. Just leave it be," Jima pleaded nonchalantly.
Alin began reading the parchment aloud. "Her name is Yangchen. Whoever's hands she falls into, keep good care of her. When it is time, request that she be taught by one of the following from the Eastern Air Temple: Jima, Alin, or Susan." Alin perched her lips and furrowed her brow. "I don't see any harm in this note," she tucked the parchment back into the blanket. Jima smiled and gave her daughter one last kiss. One last embrace. One last memory. The last time they would ever be together.
"It's time to go." Susan airbended the door open with a loud thud. "Woops! Sorry!" Susan smiled as she left the room.
"If she ever becomes anyone's airbending teacher..." Alin shook her head and rolled her eyes; not feeling the necessity to finish her sentence. Then Alin and Jima left the room to head back home to the Eastern Air Temple, leaving Yangchen alone.
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