3 Chapter 2. Growing Up. Part 1.

Why here? Why in the world of Avatar?

Honestly, I vaguely remember it. Vague is an understatement; only the broad strokes of the story, which I somehow know, surfaced in my mind. Though, how else - from my previous life, evidently. These colorful fragments that popped into my head were enough for me to understand that I live among the Fire Nation. There are also the Earth Kingdom and the Water Tribes.

Where the first is experiencing the Chinese Middle Ages with a slight upgrade in the form of bending, and the second is outright tribal. This, while in my nation, industrialization is in full swing. It's still unclear why they haven't moved away from monarchy or autocracy, but! But! It's all better than living, essentially, as some Water Tribe, smearing animal fat on things to keep warm and entertaining oneself with hunting or fishing. Or hunting. Or fishing. You get the gist.

But this is still not the standard of living I'm accustomed to! I can't quite remember it, but there's a clear understanding that I might find a lot here displeasing and even repulsive. Or maybe not. Who knows what the rules and culture are like here.

Why couldn't I end up in...

Well, I can't remember the names right now, but I'm certain there are far more favorable places for existence.

So, what now? What to do? The answer, as always, is pretty simple - deal with problems as they arise. And first off, I need to learn to read and speak, thankfully my family has a library. Then, I can tackle some global issues. Maybe I'll just lay low. After all, I've always muddled through somehow, even if I don't remember it.

So, first, let's learn more about the world around us, and for that, we need to listen and read. The local language, though complex, became increasingly understandable and memorable to me. A child's brain absorbs information very quickly, and it's enough for the nannies around me to simply speak for me to quickly memorize words. It's a strange feeling.

"Master Akimaru, how many times must I tell you, everything in its own time. When you go to school, they will teach you to read," a nanny said in response to my latest request to learn to read.

Yes, my name is Akimaru. Aki for short. Without much thought, I was named after the season I was born in, and they took some, well, derivative of it. So, they call me Akimaru. Akimaru, son of Jiro. Yep, that's right, no surname. There's a strange approach to this here, specifically, the high aristocracy does not have a second name or a surname. They have certain phonetic tendencies in their name, not always a direct sequence, but nevertheless, that's how people from certain aristocratic families are recognized. For more authenticity, they mention the father's name, well, so everyone clearly understands that this lean face in combination with the sounding name is no coincidence. It's hard to explain, but the locals accept and understand such a concept.

Interestingly, my name lacks the required phonetics. It's even slightly amusing - did my father decide I was defective in my childhood or only after this local ritual did he determine that I wasn't worthy of the "family" name?

So many questions and yet so few answers.

The main thing is that this ritual wasn't about my bending. Yes, as someone reborn in Avatar, I hope to have at least firebending. But I have a sneaking suspicion those damn candles weren't just randomly placed around me.

Though am I really a visitor from another world? I was born here. Typically, being a visitor implies crashing into a fully grown body, evicting its previous occupant. There was none of that, so it seems I'm more of a reincarnate.

And if I indeed don't possess any bending in this world... it might be simpler to jump into a volcano. Or just hide away and wait for some global turmoil to pass.

"School is still far off! And I want to read now," I snapped back from my thoughts, continuing to try and coax the nanny. I desperately wanted to read books.

***

By the age of five, I had finally mastered spoken language and even started reading slowly. No, the nanny didn't give in, but she must have complained about my insistence to my parents. And she must have complained bitterly because it seems they had no choice but to hire someone who explained to me, long and hard, the local script.

Well, they didn't have many options. They couldn't scold me for thirsting for knowledge. Despite their more than chilly attitude towards me, they try to take care of me somehow. The nannies, that is.

My reflections were interrupted by a knock on my door. As usual, I was sitting at my desk, writing. Either practicing calligraphy or making notes. Essentially, that's all I've been doing for a long time.

My room wasn't exactly large, but it wasn't small either. An ornate bed, a writing desk piled with homework from my teacher, my own notes made in the language of my past world, and books. There was also a door to the bathroom - yes, there was a decent toilet and even a shower made of metal, not ceramic, and a door to a half-empty wardrobe.

Without waiting for a response, a young woman, whom they somehow call my mother, entered the room. I refer to her as "the woman who gave birth to me." At least to myself. Throughout my conscious life, except for perhaps the first few months, I haven't seen a shred of empathy from her. Sure, sometimes she spent time with me, but it could more accurately be described as "sat in my room, busied herself with her tasks."

"Akimaru, do you remember that we're all dining together this evening, and you need to be there?" she said formally and importantly, casting almost imperceptible glances at what I was doing.

As always, I was writing various observations about my surroundings. No, not about people - it would be too much of an honor for this vain segment of humanity to waste paper on them - but about technologies and whatever I could remember from Avatar.

For example, I was just finishing up about the Avatar himself from what I remember:

"Avatar - bald guy with arrows. Can enter a state of rage where his eyes and tattoos glow, and his power greatly increases. Doesn't control this state, apparently.

Supposedly, the main peacemaker among all nations and tribes, but it's really unknown.

Main goal - peace throughout the world (ironically), and the finale - overthrow the Fire Lord.

Appeared after being trapped in an iceberg for a hundred years (When?)."

Something like that. And even this significant portion of the... note was helped by books, where as I read about the Avatar, I recalled bits from my past life.

The key question posed at the end: when will the Avatar awaken from his slumber? After all, the events in this world revolve around this monk in my head.

Quite the dilemma. Maybe if I remembered more, I could somehow correlate the dates, but alas, what's not there is not there.

Damn, how I wish I could remember everything all at once. I surely had a normal family, some friends. Maybe even a wife or girlfriend. I loved someone and perhaps was loved in return. Likely had a job, maybe even a hobby. And now, I remember nothing. Absolutely nothing. It's incredibly frustrating. And I so want to learn at least something. Anything's better than this. The world is fascinating, but only from an outsider's perspective. I really don't want to oppose a bender with lifetimes of experience, nor the Fire Lord and his army. And to stay out of the conflict? Something tells me that as the fifth son of the third wife, well, the second son of the uncle to the head of the family, and also somewhat different, they'll send me far and long. To fight and defend the family's honor. And they won't grieve much if I perish.

Maybe I'm exaggerating, but their behavior pushes me towards such thoughts. They've completely disregarded me.

"Of course, I remember," I nodded, not looking up from my task. With that, my mother simply exited the room, not forgetting to close the door behind her. Hmm, maybe being in such a "family" has its perks for someone like me. Perhaps they even outweigh the cons.

This evening, we have some important family dinner. What they want to announce, Agni knows (I found in the books, the local equivalent of the word "God"). But this buzz is not without reason. Though it's unlikely to be anything dire. If I were to think like an idiot, incapable of any thought, I might assume they've chosen a wife for me. But with a little brainpower, it becomes clear that's unlikely. They won't discuss something like that with a five-year-old. Even if they have chosen, they'll likely discuss it among themselves first, and then start introducing me to the bride-to-be.

The gathering's significance probably concerns everyone but me. Unless they're announcing school. Which isn't exactly a great secret - I'm nearly six. At this age, local kids start school. And I'm no exception, though perhaps my school will be more elite. Or, if I'm lucky, the most elite.

Alright, I've got to grips with the local attempts at steampunk. Well, as much as I could: started observing, inspecting, remembering. It turns out, the system exists simply because of ma-ag-ic. Well, more precisely, firebenders, who may not be everyone but are a significant percentage of the Fire Nation's population, ignite a special installation in the basement with their flame, maintaining a strong and importantly, hot fire for some time. Not too long, ten to fifteen minutes, then it can be left under a normal fire. And thus, quickly evaporating a huge amount of water. Steam is delivered through pipes wherever needed, in turn, powering various devices. From flushing toilets to kitchen appliances.

And they don't seem to worry about efficiency at all. Like, what's the problem if there are more losses than benefits? Just fire it up again. Meanwhile, it's unclear where this fire comes from. In terms of, no, firebenders don't eat more, don't drink more, their life processes are utterly ordinary. But they still draw energy from somewhere. And if the laws of physics are not different in this world, following the first law of thermodynamics, energy only changes form; it doesn't come from nowhere nor disappears.

So far, I haven't found any major differences in basic physics, so it's unlikely there will be in advanced physics either, leaving the question: where does the energy come from? And why is fatigue in benders mostly physical rather than "mental," "emotional," or otherwise?

Yes, as you can see, a lot has come to my mind while reading various books. Surprisingly, the books were good and competent. I mean, there's stuff for entertainment, but if I take a treatise on philosophical sciences, unlike the name suggests, it was a summary of all precise sciences. And such speculations on ten pages: strictly dry conclusions, proofs, and examples. Though, of course, not without musings on the eternal.

As it stands, there isn't a separate study of mathematics, physics, or chemistry yet. The terms have already appeared, but these subjects aren't studied independently, except maybe in advanced institutions, which I honestly know nothing about. There likely are such places, but it seems here the principle of "from Master to Apprentice" prevails, as this concept is quite common and widely used.

It's a strange combination, to be honest. In some places, students sit around a sensei, listening to the wisdom of the elder, while in others, they write in notebooks, bored during lessons, and watch what the angry teacher draws on the board.

But in any case, people are very literate en masse, unlike the Earth Kingdom or the Water Tribes. And if I mention the word "multiplication" somewhere in my country, people won't fall into sacred awe. Nor will they put me on the stake. But in other countries, anything could happen...

Before dinner, I documented everything I could remember about various fields. It wasn't going well. When I read something and knowledge surfaced in my mind, it was easy, but when I had to recall what surfaced and write it down... It felt like being asked to tell a joke, and even if you had read a collection of the world's best jokes before, your mind would still be blank, and you'd just blink at the requester, trying to conjure up something from that emptiness.

So here I am, spending hours trying to extract something from myself. So far, just bits and pieces, which I'll likely sort on some board, like cops in American investigation movies... there it is again. To write it down or not? Better not, but...

In general, I'll meticulously connect the dots about the world I found myself in with red strings, something about natural sciences, like the Earth being round, with green, and so on. If I'm not too lazy.

Falling into this world didn't suddenly give me a second wind to wake up at five in the morning, go for a run, do exercises, and then work till night. Everything's usual: barely open my eyes by ten, only start doing something by noon, and by half-past one, I'm all consumed with thoughts about the meaning of life and existence, just to avoid doing anything.

And here I am doing this just to delay that damned dinner a bit longer. Brrr, how I despise these ceremonial family feasts.

Well, it must be done, so it must be done. Thus, standing up and (almost) neatly stacking all my efforts today into one pile, I headed to the very "traditional" hall.

The whole family had already gathered there. And when I say all, I mean everyone. Not long ago, I found out that this house belongs to my entire family, including my uncle and his wife and son. We live in different parts of this huge estate, so I didn't really see them much, nor were they in a hurry to see me, so I got the impression that this house belonged exclusively to my father and mother.

And there was only one traditional room, unlike the regular dining rooms, of which there were several, where we usually ate separately. But tonight was some important evening, where class announcements would be made: "Wow, how interesting" and "Thanks, Cap".

Standing in front of the door, I sighed heavily, opened the gates of hell... opened the door, only for all the family's eyes to immediately focus on me. And not in a pleased way, rather the opposite.

"Akimaru, you're late again," my uncle dryly stated the fact. By the way, he's simply called Ji. To me, it sounds like an abbreviation of something, but in reality, such a name is held in high regard. Who knows why. Maybe it's somehow related to fully matching the phonetic part of our lineage. Anyway, he named his own son Ji as well. Ji, the son of Ji. Sounds like the nickname of some rapper.

Yo, it's Young Ji, are y'all ready? I can't hear you?

God, what nonsense comes to mind. It's all because of this unstable memory, I tell you.

"Sorry, uncle, I just got caught up in reading," I slightly bowed. Yes, there is etiquette here built around bows and such, but, like everything else, it's more a nod to tradition than something truly important, and, rumors say, even the palace overlooks inaccuracies. Though they can still give you a figurative slap for it.

The only thing that remains an important part is to somehow signify a bow or at least a nod of the head, and to make the gesture of a fist plus an open palm in front of oneself.

To my attempt at manners, my uncle just grimaced and gestured for me to sit at the table. My place is the closest to the door at the edge of the table. Whether this means something or just happened that way, Agni knows. I haven't figured out the local traditions that much. And I'm not too keen on doing so.

Something tells me that in my lifetime, they will finally lose their value.

Here, who would have thought, they eat with chopsticks. Though forks and spoons are also universally used, chopsticks have not disappeared and are very much present. Well, I don't mind. After all, not eating with hands is already good.

Alright, let's listen to why we've all gathered here today.