Chapter Text
Martin was fourteen when the White Lotus came to his house. There were only three of them, two men, one woman, but each one was as tall and burly as a professional wrestler. Simon, Caitlin, and himself watched from a distance as their parents let them in, bringing them to the kitchen to talk.
Hiding on the stairs, the kids were too far away to hear the conversation properly. They crowded together, straining their ears, trying to catch snippets of their parents were saying.
"...not a bender..."
"... never had a bender on either side of family..."
"... tests we can perform..."
"... what if..."
"...first we confirm then..."
There was pause, then Martin's father said out loud, "Martin, come into the kitchen, please."
When it was found Martin could water bend, Simon had been joking Martin had been adopted and that the people visiting today were going to take him away to his real parents. Or back to the orphanage.
Both Simon and Caitlin shared horrified looks, and they were all thinking the same thing: what if Martin was adopted? It would make sense- why else would he have the ability to water bend when no one else in their family tree could?
His parents called for him again. Wiping the sweat off his hands on his trousers, Martin stood up from the stairs, stepped down and walked to the kitchen.
His parents were standing off to the side, while the White Lotus sentries sat at the table. It felt wrong. This was his home, not theirs, his parents should be the ones at the table, not them. There was a cloth on the table as well, covering a portion of it.
"Hello, Martin," the woman said softly. Though her body was hidden under her white and blue robes, her shoulders were as big as a truck. "So your parents tell me you can water bend."
"Yes, ma'am," Martin said.
"And you're the only one in the family who can."
He nodded.
"Can you show me?"
She reached back and brought forward a glass of water. She held it out for him.
Just because he could water bend didn't mean he was trained in it. It was just an accident when he froze his hot chocolate that day two weeks ago. Nobody in the neighbourhood was a master to teach him. Well, there was Mr. Rurick, but he was an arsehole.
Martin held out his hands towards the water. Concentrating, he flexed his fingers and tried to will the water out of the cup.
It felt like he was holding a long stick with a heavy weight stuck to the end of it. A stick he couldn't see and the longer he held it, the heavier it got. Grudgingly, the water rose from the cup, up into the air.
The sentries were studying him, not approving but not disapproving either. Merely watching. Martin tried to hold it, but the weight was too much. With a exhausted grunt, he dropped his hands, and the water splattered all over the floor.
"Interesting," said the woman. She waved her hand to the right, collecting the water off the ground, sloshing it back into the cup flawlessly. "Martin, come to the table."
He rubbed his arms which were now sore and felt noodle-like. He hoped they weren't going to ask him to write something, he doubt he could hold a pencil right now.
The woman stood up and step back, pulling the sheet she draped on the table away. Underneath, scattered across the top were little nicknacks and things. There were pens, tiny glass figurines, framed pictures, cufflinks, gold earrings, diamond rings, cigar cases, an empty bottle of perfume, small books, and other such items which his mother would've thrown away by now.
"Choose one," the woman said. "And it's yours."
Martin blinked up at her. "Really?"
She nodded. "Really."
This felt like a test. It was like Indiana Jones, and he was afraid if he chose the wrong thing, he was going to age a million years in four seconds.
Immediately he went for the diamond ring. He could sell it, buy himself a new bike. Maybe he could take the whole family to the Misty Palms Oasis or Kyoshi Island. Or maybe build a pool in the back. If Martin was going to water bend, he might as well have a large body of water nearby to practice on.
Just as he was about to pick the diamond ring up, he stopped. Off to the side, sitting beneath a silver lighter, was a small aeroplane brooch.
It was a tiny thing, tarnished and old. It was a World War Two plane with movable propellers. Without even thinking twice, Martin brushed aside the lighter, picked up the brooch and said, "Um... I'll take this."
The sentries shared a look. They smiled knowingly.
"What?" Martin said. He stepped back, clutching the plane tightly in his hand. The pin poked at his palm. "What? What's going on?" He looked to his parents for help. His mother had her hand covering her mouth in shock while his father looked on proudly. He was almost crying.
Oh god, he WAS adopted, wasn't he?
He jumped when all three sentries suddenly went down on bended knee in front of him, bowing their heads. "What? What?"
"It's an honour to meet you," the woman said. "Avatar Martin."
Martin dropped the brooch. From behind, Simon cried out, "NUH-HUH!"