So much pain in every part of his body.

Aches and tremors of agony. Sozin didn't know anything could ever hurt so much. The pain bled into the deepest parts of his mind like some sort of sickness. It was the worst beating he'd ever gotten from his brothers, but at least it was finally over.

Now he had a chance to rest, and he wanted nothing more than to just fall asleep in the very spot where he laid and forget all about the pain plaguing his every bone and muscle. Beneath drooping eyelids, he saw that the man who had saved him was already at his side again. Sozin smiled at him, but he was beginning to slip in and out of consciousness. He managed to stay awake enough to realize that the man was trying to help him. The next thing he remembered was being carried out of the alley by the stranger and moved somewhere else.

The buildings all around began to turn into trees and any remnants of light remaining in the air disappeared behind the horizon, replaced by darkness. Flickering between exhaustion and brief bouts of attentiveness, the surroundings were a blur for most of the journey as pain and fatigue wrapped around Sozin like a cold blanket and held the center of his attention.

Eventually, the man brought Sozin to a quiet corner of the forest on an old, less frequently traveled dirt road. The silvery moonlight struggled to penetrate the thick canopy here. There was a narrow, windy path that started at the edge of a dense bamboo thicket framing the side of the road—barely wider than a person and easy to miss for anyone who didn't know what they were looking for. The path led out to the other side of the thicket where there was a small pocket of cleared but sequestered forest. Multiple shanties, all connected to form one big, crudely built house, were nestled neatly inside the clearing. The forest canopy broke just above the house and allowed moonlight to bathe softly upon its overgrown walls.

To Sozin's eyes, all of it was like some kind of beautiful, dilapidated oasis. He mustered up a weak chuckle as the man carried him inside the house. "This is where you live?" he said with a tone of admiration.

"It isn't much," the man said, "But it's mine."

The door shut behind them, and the man promptly set Sozin down on a bamboo bed in what he presumed was supposed to be the living room, or, at least, a rudimentary attempt at one.

"Take your shirt off and wait here. I'm going to get something that'll help you feel better," the man said before disappearing into another room, floorboards creaking with every step. The clarity and steadiness in his voice was enough to leave a lasting impression on Sozin's ears.

Grunting, Sozin maneuevered himself into a more comfortable position on the bed, hearing the frame protest noisily under his weight. Glancing around, this particular room looked like everything in it just wanted to break away and fall apart at the slightest notice of a breeze. If it weren't for the fact that he was seeing it with his own eyes, Sozin almost wouldn't have believed that the person who had saved him actually lived here. It was a little bit unexpected—the man's clothes didn't give away any indication of him being poor.

Sozin heard something being grinded in the nearby room, and then the man returned in short order. He came back with a deep-set plate that was coated on the inside with a blue powder of some sort. The man set the plate down on a low table next to the bed. The powder shimmered softly in the darkness of the room.

"What is that? Some kind of drug?" Sozin asked.

"No," the man said, kneeling down between the table and the bed. "It's a powder made from a crystal that produces special kind of medicinal fire. It won't heal your injuries entirely, but it'll help reduce the pain and inflammation."

The man reached over the table retrieved an unlit candle from the other side. Briefly, he pinched the candle's wick between two of his fingers until a thin stream of smoke began to billow out from between them, and then he let go, leaving a flame in its wake. Setting the candle back down, the man plucked the tip of the candle's flame—a small dab of fire—and casually dropped it into the plate he'd brought like lint into a waste basket. Instantly, the inside of the plate burst into a lake of blue fire that lit up the room in an arcane glow.

"Whoa..." Sozin stared at the twisting flames in silent awe.

The man grabbed two handfuls of the blue fire. Rubbing his hands together, he then spread it smoothly over Sozin's chest, causing the boy to wince in astonishment. The flames were surprisingly cool on his skin. They quickly dissipated into the air, taking the aches and pains of his body with them. While Sozin watched, the man retrieved more of the blue fire and spread it over the rest of his battered torso until it was all gone from the plate.

"There. You should find it easier to move now," the man said in a low voice.

Sozin ran his hand down his midline. "It's painless," he said, flexing and twisting his torso.

"Moujin crystals. Easy to use for healing if you can bend fire, but unfortunately, very expensive and hard to find."

"Expensive?" Sozin said. "Oh, I didn't know... Sorry for making you waste your crystal."

"Why do you say sorry?" the man asked.

"I don't want to be a burden to you—I'm not worth it," Sozin said glumly. "If I had known, I would've told you not to bother. Doesn't seem like you can afford to be giving much charity out to others anyway."

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

"You shouldn't speak like that," the man said. "Don't be sorry. There's no waste nor wrong in helping others and money is of no concern to me. If you learn how to live happily on little, you can be happy anywhere."

Sozin scratched his head. "Sounds like a tough philosophy to live by."

"It is, but it's a rewarding one."

"So you live here by yourself? Are you some kind of medicine man?"

"Yes and no," the man said. "I'm a monk. My name's Ikijo."

The boy spoke from beneath his black hair. "Sozin," he replied.

"Well, Sozin, you got yourself into some serious trouble... You're lucky I came across you when I did."

"Yeah..." Sozin said. "Thanks for helping me back there. I don't know what I would've done if it weren't for you."

"Don't worry about it," Ikijo said with a glancing nod as he stood up. In the middle of the room, a kettle hung over the firewood of the an unlit hearth sunken into the floor—an irori—and the man ambled over to it, grabbing another shard of flame from the candle on the table as he passed by. "Would you like some tea while you're here?" he said warmly as he lit the wood in the hearth.

Sozin stared mindlessly at the ceiling. "Sure..."

"Those boys were really laying into you. What did they want?"

"I don't know. Revenge, I guess..." Sozin murmured, lacking any enthusiasm. "Half the time I don't know why they do what they do."

"This isn't the first time they've bothered you?"

"No..."

"Mmm," Ikijo hummed, his eyes falling. "Boys will be boys. Not much you can do about that." The man shook his head. "How are you feeling? Can you walk on your own now?"

"Yeah, I feel a lot better after you treated me with that blue fire stuff."

"Good..." Ikijo said. "You should go home after tea. Your mother is probably worried about you."

"Go home?" Sozin said like it was a bad idea. "I don't know if I can do that."

"What is it?" Ikijo ran his eyes over Sozin in an attempt to decipher the boy's expression. "Do you fear they may come after you again? I can walk you home."

"No, that's not it. It's just... Those boys... They were my brothers."

"What?" Ikijo murmured in surprise.

"The taller of the two is Hakoda—he's my oldest brother. Ukon is the other one and the second oldest," Sozin said. "Please don't make me go home, mister. They'll just beat me up again like they always do. It'd be even worse if you walked me there. I have no idea what my father would do if he found out what you did to them, and I don't want to see you get hurt."

"You shouldn't worry about me," Ikijo said, his expression softening. "But your father? He condones this behavior?"

Sozin let out a pitiful chuckle. Self-pity was something he found himself resorting to a lot these days. Whenever he laughed in situations like this, he knew it was never appropriate. Laughing was supposed to be filled with happiness and joy. He could pretend that it was making him feel better to laugh even if it was fake, although deep down, he knew that it wasn't true. No matter how much he tried to pretend that things were right, they really weren't. No amount of laughter could conceal the hollowness that came out in his voice.

"He turns a blind eye every time," Sozin said. "My mother too now. She doesn't care about what happens to me. Neither of them do."

"I see..." Ikijo muttered. "Well, if you're going to stay, then you should rest. Your body must heal."

Sozin felt a wave of relief wash over him. "Thanks, mister... I'll have to go back eventually, but I'd rather save that ordeal for tomorrow"

"Mm," the man grunted in acknowledgement.

Taking another gander around the room, Sozin's eyes fell upon a curious little something that his eyes had failed to notice until just now. Mounted upon the far wall, there was a battle-worn katana faintly illuminated by the glow of the hearth. It didn't seem to add up considering the Buddha statue that was nearby and the fact that the man had said he was a monk after all.

"Hey, you said you were a monk, right?" Sozin asked.

"Yes..." the man said.

"If you don't mind me asking, what's a monk doing with a sword? Aren't monks supposed to be martial artists only? And pacifists?"

Ikijo chuckled. "Indeed—you are correct—but I wasn't always a monk. I suppose you could say I converted... I used to be in the army, fighting and killing people... nothing at all like the man I am now... The sword is still mine in body, but in spirit, I am no longer the shinobi that it once belonged to. I left that life of death behind me a long time ago. Ever since I abandoned the Interior Ministry."

"Hold on a second, you're a shinobi?" Sozin exclaimed. "That's insane! I thought my father and my brothers were the only ones in town. That would explain why you took them down so easily," Sozin said.

"These days, I only use my skills in self-defense or to help protect others. Nothing more and nothing less..."

"Have you ever wanted a student?" Sozin asked.

"I don't teach."

"You don't?"

"No," Ikijo said. "And besides, I think you're too young to learn such things. How old are you anyway?"

"Well, I'm twelve, but my father has been training my brothers since they were little kids. He doesn't teach me though. He only sees potential in my brothers." A dejected look washed over Sozins' face.

"Is that so?" Ikijo hadn't expected to hear that and was surprised on the inside. He decided to reconsider. "Why do you wish to learn? The shinobi arts... they are not to be taught lightly."

"I guess I've always wanted to learn since I was young boy, but my reasons have kind of changed. Up until recently, it was only to make my father proud—he's a master shinobi—but now... Now, I'm just tired of getting beaten up," Sozin lamented. He couldn't hold back his sorrow any longer and its cold tendrils seeped through his voice. "I wish I could take care of my self so I wouldn't have to worry about my brothers or anyone else anymore. I don't have any friends. No one has ever really helped me, especially not my father. I don't know why I ever cared about him so much, but I figure if no one else is going to take care of me, then I should at least be able to take care of myself. I just want to be able to wake up in the morning and say that I can do something. Like my brothers can. Like everyone else can." Sozin paused as realization flickered across his face. He was suddenly aware of how much he had opened up. His eyes darted awkwardly. "Oh... I'm rambling... Sorry if this is all a lot to hear, mister. I don't mean to trouble you with my problems."

Ikijo paused to think about the boy's words, and then he smiled. "Don't worry about it," he said. "I don't get a lot of visitors these days, so the company's always nice. In fact, I could use more of it now that I think about things. If you're really serious about training, I might be able to help you, and you might be able to help me. How does that sound?"

"Really? You mean you're willing to train me?" Sozin exclaimed, brightening into happiness.

"That depends," the man said curiously. "How bad do you want to learn? I've never had a student before, so you should make it worth my while."

A visceral drive lingered in Sozin's eyes. "Bad enough to do whatever it takes."

"Very well then," Ikijo said. "I'm going to hold you to that statement. We'll start tomorrow morning. You can sleep in that bed."

Sozin smiled the widest smile he ever had. All of a sudden things were looking up for him. "I look forward to it," he declared, clenching his fist in excitement.